Persona: Shibuya Stories

Someone once said that life becomes brilliant when you make the right choices.

Unfortunately, reality isn't a game. There's no save/load function. Even if you know whether a choice was right or wrong, you can't go back to the moment you made it.

And that's just tragic.

Right now, Jin was facing one of the biggest choices of his life.

In his shaking hands, he held a flyer for a maid service.

A person holding a flyer for a maid service was already halfway there.

So why was Jin locked in a brutal mental battle, treating this decision like it was the defining moment of his existence?

It all started half an hour ago.

First of all, maids.

In recent years, they had become one of Japan's cultural icons—a symbol of the moe phenomenon. Naturally, with anything that popular, people flocked to it. Some genuinely loved the aesthetic, some just liked wearing cute outfits, and others simply wanted to make money. Whatever the reason, the maid industry boomed.

And when a field gets flooded with workers, competition becomes brutal.

Or, to put it more fashionably—involution.

Maid cafés started popping up everywhere, and so did their marketing tactics. It was common to see maids standing on the streets, handing out flyers, hoping to lure in customers.

Jin had casually taken one of these flyers on his way home.

As soon as he stepped into his apartment, he realized something.

Master Liu—the elderly man next door—wasn't home. The proof? The usual electromagnetic static-filled Peking Opera that constantly leaked through his walls was gone.

The silence made Jin reflect on his situation.

Not what happened earlier that day—none of that mattered anymore.

This was more urgent.

"Kasumi, did I give someone my home address today?"

"Yes."

"Does that mean I basically invited them over?"

"Yes."

"And… does that mean we are completely unprepared for guests?"

"Yes."

Three existential questions.

Three merciless yes answers.

Jin's apartment was a disaster zone.

Not "mildly messy." Not "a little untidy."

It was the physical manifestation of procrastination.

Dust coated every surface. The table had years of oil stains—despite the fact that he couldn't cook. Luckily, Master Liu often shared food with him, but eating at home meant the occasional soup spill… which, over time, became a permanent feature of the table.

Then there were the clothes. Piles of unwashed, worn-out clothing crammed into the corners of the room. Random junk stacked haphazardly in every available space.

For Jin, his apartment had one purpose—sleeping. As long as the path from the entrance to the bed and dining table was clear, that was enough.

Cleanliness?

Irrelevant.

But if he wanted to invite someone over… that was a different story.

(Unless someone lives in a utility closet, no one's place is lower-class than mine…)

Jin thought about cleaning.

He really did.

But after twenty minutes of circling his apartment, trying to figure out where to start, his brain simply shut down.

And that was when his eyes landed on the flyer.

Maid services weren't just about playing games or serving tea in a café. Historically, maids were servants. Cleaning was part of the job.

So, in theory—this was the perfect solution.

Jin couldn't clean it himself.

He needed help.

It wasn't a waste of money—it was practical!

So why was he struggling with this choice like it was some deep philosophical dilemma?

The answer was simple.

The nomination fee.

5,000 yen per session.

Converted to Chinese yuan, that was roughly 250 to 300 RMB.

More importantly, in purchasing power, that was three or four trips to a buffet.

Three or four all-you-can-eat meals… or a clean home?

That was the real question.

—If only! If only it was that simple!!!

Because deep down, Jin was still a guy.

And the maid aesthetic had been deeply ingrained in his brain by years of anime, games, and pop culture.

Who wouldn't want a gentle, caring, and cute maid?

Every overpowered isekai protagonist had one.

But reality… was cruel.

Yes, there were cute, young, adorable maids.

But given the sheer number of maids in the industry, there were also…

The older ones.

The average-looking ones.

The ones with zero concept of "moe."

And statistically, those maids were the majority.

Reality was cruel.

Jin's current mood was like a gambler playing Russian roulette—four chambers already emptied.

Of course, he wanted a maid to clean up. He was even willing to pay.

But if he rolled the dice and got someone like Ruhua from that Stephen Chow movie…

That would be tragic.

He turned to Kasumi, searching for guidance.

The instant she realized what he was thinking, she transformed into a perfect maid outfit.

…Too bad she was useless when it came to actual housework.

The only thing she could do was the magical maid incantation—"Make it delicious!"

Which, unfortunately, did not help him right now.

"Alright! I've made up my mind!"

Jin snatched his phone and dialed the number.

(If someone ugly shows up… I'll just let them clean while I go outside. I'll pretend Kasumi is actually the one helping me. That way, I win either way!)

Self-delusion at its finest.

The Ah Q spirit that Lu Xun described? Alive and well inside Jin.

A polite female voice answered.

"Would you like to request a specific maid?"

Jin froze.

Did he know any of them by name? Of course not.

"Uh… just send… a cute one."

There was a pause.

"Understood."

The call ended.

Jin let out a long breath.

And then realized he was sweating.

His mouth was dry. His heart was racing.

It felt like he had just done something exciting… forbidden.

Maid services… are terrifying.

They were also fast.

Like food delivery, but for human beings.

Barely ten minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Then, in a perfectly rehearsed, sugary-sweet voice—

"Hello, Master~ Betty will be serving you tonight! Please open the door~!"

Jin froze.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

What awaited him on the other side of that door—hope or despair?

With shaking hands, he reached for the doorknob.

Let's hope for the best...

Any healthy man has, at some point in his life, imagined a romantic encounter with a beautiful woman.

Jin was no exception.

At the same time, anyone with even a shred of common sense knows that reality is cruel. It never lives up to fantasy. The higher you set your expectations, the harder the fall. Keeping your hopes low is the most effective way to avoid heartbreak.

Jin was no exception.

No matter how much mental preparation he had done before the maid arrived—no matter how many disastrous scenarios he had envisioned, even considering the possibility of being scammed—the reality before him had still managed to exceed all expectations.

Not in a good way.

Hearing the knock on the door, Jin had instinctively gone to open it.

"Master~ Hello, meow~ Today, your ser—Jin!?"

"Ah… M-Ms. Kawakami…?"

There were many things that could go wrong when calling a maid for the first time.

You could get an ugly maid.

You could get a maid who completely destroyed your fantasies.

But ordering a maid for the first time and having your homeroom teacher show up at the door?

That was next-level catastrophe.

Jin was sure that at least 90% of high school boys had never experienced something this humiliating.

Kawakami, dressed in full maid attire, had her black, curly hair tied into twin tails, her eyes opened wide in a forced attempt at cuteness.

It was painful to witness.

Twin tails could be cute—but only if the person wearing them was cute.

And considering that Jin had just met Ann Takamaki earlier that morning—a young, stylish, half-Japanese model who made twin tails look like art—seeing his overworked, perpetually exhausted homeroom teacher trying to pull off the same look was like watching a train derail in slow motion.

Of course… from Kawakami's perspective, things weren't much better.

Getting caught by a student while working a maid job?

Wearing this outfit?

If the school found out, she was finished.

Working a side job was already questionable for a teacher, but being a maid? A job that revolved around youth appeal?

If Kamoshida caught wind of this, she'd be gone by morning.

Meanwhile, Jin's own situation wasn't that much better.

Hiring a maid wasn't illegal, but for a high school student to be using this kind of service? The school wouldn't ignore that.

Not to mention…

Jin had fantasized about maid services before.

And now?

Now that he knew the reality—his own teacher standing in front of him, dressed like this—

He fully understood why ancient scholars said that lust was a blade hanging over your head.

Because this knife was sharp.

For what felt like an eternity, neither of them spoke.

Both had the same thought:

(It's over. My school life is over.)

Eventually, Kawakami—being the adult here—gathered the courage to speak first.

"I'll be the one asking questions," she said, her tone forced but steady. "Jin. Why did you call a maid service? You know high school students shouldn't be using these services, right?"

"...I needed someone to help clean my apartment," Jin muttered weakly.

Despite being on leave, the instinctive fear of teachers was still alive and well within him.

"Did you call me here knowing who I was?"

Jin's head shook so fast it might've given him whiplash.

If he was even a little braver, he might've nodded and gone full blackmail mode—"Teacher, you don't want others to know, right? That depends on your sincerity."

But he wasn't that brave.

Kawakami sighed, her eyes scanning the disaster zone that was Jin's apartment.

"...Looking at this mess, I can't even be mad," she admitted.

Then, without hesitation, she stepped inside and plopped down on his bed.

Not that there was anywhere else to sit.

"I know your situation, but rules are rules. I'll let it go this time—but don't do this again."

"Mm-hmm!" Jin nodded frantically.

"And don't tell anyone about this part-time job. Got it?"

Then, realizing something, she relaxed slightly.

"...Actually, you're on leave. That means you won't be going to school and accidentally slipping up… That's… reassuring."

She let out a deep sigh, clearly still highly stressed about the situation.

But she was an adult.

And adults had coping mechanisms.

She clapped her hands together. "Alright! We're cleaning. And you're helping."

Jin barely had time to process before he was being dragged into cleaning duty.

Meanwhile, Kasumi—taking full advantage of her ghostly abilities—changed into a cheerleading uniform and began cheering them on from the void.

Which led to Jin getting distracted.

Which led to Kawakami scolding him several times.

Just as they were deep into cleaning, a familiar sound echoed from the paper-thin wall:

"Under Qingcheng Mountain—Bai Suzhen~ I have been cultivating this body in the cave for a thousand years~"

Kawakami froze.

She visibly flinched at the sudden blast of what was, to her ears, an incomprehensible Chinese opera.

She scowled. "What is that?"

Jin sighed.

Master Liu was back.

"Teacher, just ignore it."

"But—it's so loud!"

She banged on the wall in frustration.

The music did not get quieter.

If anything, it got louder.

She was about to go full disciplinary mode when Jin quickly stopped her.

"Teacher, teacher! Let's just focus on cleaning, alright? Uncle Liu loves his opera."

"That doesn't mean he can disturb the whole neighborhood!"

Kawakami grumbled but relented, turning back to the mess.

Cleaning took over an hour.

But when they finally finished…

Jin's apartment was completely transformed.

He stared in shock.

"I never thought my place could be this clean."

"Remember to keep it that way," Kawakami said, grabbing her things. "And remember our agreement. No more calling maid services."

Just as she was about to leave, a deep, warm voice rang out from outside:

"Jin! Are you home? Come have dinner with us!"

Master Liu.

Kawakami paused, confused. She didn't understand what was being said, but she did understand one thing—

A delicious aroma had suddenly filled the room.

The scent of real food.

Her stomach growled.

Jin hesitated, then weakly offered, "Uh… teacher, wanna stay for dinner?"

Kawakami wanted to refuse.

She should refuse.

But the scent of authentic, home-cooked Chinese food was overwhelming.

Her pride fought back.

Her hunger won.

"...Now that you say so…"

And with that, Jin's unbelievable day continued.