Gen’s Daily Life

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After leaving the training ground, Gen felt like his facial muscles were stuck in a permanent smile. Maintaining a gentle expression at all times was exhausting.

For some reason, he suddenly thought of Aizen from Bleach. When Aizen was a Shinigami, he often guided students at the Shin'o Academy to boost his reputation.

Shaking off the thought, he headed home. As expected, the little maid had already prepared dinner and was waiting for his return.

When she saw Gen arrive, the little maid knelt gracefully by the door and greeted him with a crisp and cheerful voice, "Welcome back, Master Gen!"

Gen set his sword, Ama-no-Murakumo, aside, washed his hands, and sat at the table. Accepting the food she served, he began to eat. He had grown quite accustomed to this pampered lifestyle. Sometimes, he wondered if he could survive living alone and doing everything himself again.

As he ate, the little maid kept glancing at his face, clearly wanting to say something but hesitating.

"Master Gen, are you unhappy?" she finally asked timidly, summoning her courage.

"Hm?" Gen put down his chopsticks and touched his face, puzzled. "I thought I was hiding it pretty well. How did you notice?"

He was certain he'd kept his usual smile, with no outward changes. How had she seen through him?

The little maid quickly lowered her head and softly replied, "Master, your expression is the same as usual, but your footsteps were much heavier when you came in today. Normally, they're light. Also, you didn't change into your loose robes before dinner, and you casually tossed your sword aside. Normally, you take great care with your tools."

Gen stared blankly at Chiya Yō, surprised she had noticed such subtle details—things he hadn't even been aware of himself.

"Mas… Master!" The little maid blushed under his gaze, her head lowering even further.

"Stop bowing. Any lower, and you'll be an ostrich," Gen joked lightly, feeling his mood improve. "Also, I don't like the term 'Master.' It feels too distant. Call me something else."

"Oh!" She nodded quickly, then hesitated. "What should I call you?"

"How about Brother Gen?" he suggested, conveniently ignoring the fact that she was technically a year older than his current body.

The little maid shook her head vigorously, refusing the suggestion.

Gen tried a few more options, but she rejected them all. Finally, he sighed and mock-glared at her. "If none of those work, you think of something."

On the verge of tears, the little maid whispered, "How about… Master?"

Hearing her soft, clear voice calling him "Master" sent an involuntary shiver down his spine, making him think of some inappropriate scenarios. He coughed awkwardly, trying to clear his thoughts.

"I'm not a perverted loli enthusiast!" he muttered under his breath.

"Fine, call me whatever you want," he said aloud.

"Master!"

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Master!"

"What now?"

"Still nothing."

"…."

The little maid seemed to thoroughly enjoy the term, repeating it incessantly until Gen scolded her into stopping. Even then, she looked thrilled.

Gen sighed, giving up. He pulled out a bag from his robes and tossed it to her. Curious, the maid opened it and gasped. "Master! So much money!"

"It's yours to manage now," Gen said nonchalantly. "From now on, you're in charge of all household finances. If I need anything, I'll come to you."

Her eyes sparkled as she hugged the money bag tightly. "Really? I'm still young—you're not tricking me, are you?"

Gen laughed. How had he never noticed that his little maid was such a money-grubber?

With her newfound responsibility, the maid became even more diligent, bustling around with enthusiasm. Watching her busy figure warmed Gen's heart.

After bathing, Gen felt refreshed and lay on his futon in a light robe. The night was still young, and he wasn't tired yet.

"Yō, come in," he called out.

A moment later, the maid opened his door and entered, her head lowered shyly. She had clearly just bathed as well, her thin robes clinging to her figure. Her damp hair hung down her shoulders, emitting a faint floral and milky scent.

Too bad I'm not into lolis…

Rolling over, Gen lay on his stomach. "I'm feeling a bit sore. Give me a massage."

The maid nodded and began kneading his back with her small hands. Her touch was soft and soothing, though a bit too gentle.

"Use more force," he instructed.

She tried but didn't make much of a difference.

"Just stand on my back and use your feet," Gen suggested.

The maid paled, shaking her head frantically. She wouldn't dare.

Only after he sternly scolded her did she reluctantly climb onto his back. Surprisingly, her weight was just right, and the pressure from her steps felt perfect.

As she walked back and forth, Gen closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation.

Pulling up the system interface in his mind, he examined his points, pondering what to exchange for next.