Back home, we meet up with my neighbor and everyone else, then Robot Girl ferries us to the UFO. In a little under an hour, dinner is prepared, and we all sit around the kotatsu in the living room to enjoy our evening meal.
The Japanese-style table is feeling a little cramped with the addition of the prince, who is supposedly an acquaintance of Blondie's. Nevertheless, we all huddle together and enjoy our meal. If the magical girl shows up now, we'll probably need to add a table. My neighbor is already trying to make himself smaller, out of consideration for everyone else, and I feel sorry for him.
A few minutes after we pick up our chopsticks, my neighbor turns to Futarishizuka and asks, "So, how is your let's-play project going?" He must be curious about the contest's outcome, too. The others shift their focus to the two of them, all seeming to share the sentiment.
"Oh, you want to know? Curious about how I've been getting along, are you?"
"Well, I'm not that curious."
"I suppose we need a little progress report to keep the excitement going, eh? Since I'm the one who suggested it, I'll reveal my account. I only uploaded my first video last night, though, so it won't have many views," she says, taking out her phone. She fiddles with it, and the TV in the living room switches from a variety show to the video submission website we're using for the contest. When did she install the app on there?
Soon, we see the home page for a channel called Shizu's Gaming Dojo. The top banner is an illustration of a cute young girl— one who looks nothing like Futarishizuka. The two-dimensional beauty wears an awfully provocative, alluring smile; she must be "Shizu."
Just as we were told, the list of videos contains only a single submission. As far as I can tell, the thumbnail looks typical for a game stream. More striking is the number of views—it's already over ten thousand.
"Spiffy header image, right?" she says. "I had an artist friend of mine make it for me."
"Wait, that's amazing," says my neighbor, surprised. "It already has so many views!"
"Well, yes. I did sort of beat the national speedrun record."
At that, Abaddon and I take a closer look at the screen. "Will you play it for us?" I ask.
"Oh, well, I suppose it's time to unveil my godlike gaming abilities to the rest of the family."
Despite her pompous attitude, Futarishizuka quickly plays the video. The big TV screen shows her playing a game. From the speakers, I hear both the game audio and her voice.
"I'm Shizu, a true gamer girl, and this is my channel! I'm going to do some speedruns of this rogue-like game, okay? I've never recorded myself before, including my voice, so I hope you enjoy this as if you're actually with me. Now, let's play!"
The voice, brimming with childlike enthusiasm, fills the room. My neighbor gives a start. "Wait. What's going on?" he asks her nervously. "Whose voice is this? It sounds very strange."
"What do you mean? It's my playtime voice."
It's a lot higher-pitched than usual; this must be what people mean when they refer to "anime voices." To be honest, it feels really out of place. This little child sounds nothing like Futarishizuka. It's as if she's a completely different person.
But when I consider that this is a game stream, it suddenly seems rather orthodox. A lot of streamers make a living off this sort of anime voice. Even female VTubers tend to use a similar tone and rhythm. I start to feel jealous, recalling how people dogpiled me for my gloomy voice.
"You're not complaining about my voice, I hope?" says Futarishizuka.
"No, not at all," my neighbor assures her. "It's just so different from how you usually sound."
"What? Don't like my mesugaki persona?"
As we look at her in bewilderment, the video transitions to her starting the game. As she explained already, it's a type called a rogue-like. Dungeons are created randomly, and you proceed through them one after another. I've seen VTubers playing similar games, so I just barely understand what they are.
"Oh, wowie! That's a really strong weapon to get right at the start! Now I can one-shot all the mobs on the lower floors. Small fries, all of you. Come at me all at once if you dare! None of you stand a chance before Shizu. You're about to be rust on my blade! W-wait—a rust trap?!"
The whole TV screen is taken up by the video game; you can't see Futarishizuka's face. It seems she isn't using a face cam. Considering her background, I guess that makes sense. Instead, there's a bust shot of the little girl from the header image in one corner. She makes little movements to show a range of emotions.
I'm not surprised, but I sense that she's taken a lot of care editing her video. The fact that her anime voice makes her sound like a total stranger serves to perfectly mask her identity. If I saw this video out of context, I would have never realized it was her. In that sense, she's killing two birds with one stone.
"I see you went for a cult classic," my neighbor remarks.
"Games like these have a steady, eager fan base. Even if it's a video made by some nobody, a punchy title will bring in viewers who want to go into the comment section and blast me with negativity."
Hearing this exchange, I look down to the video's title. I've never heard of the game before, but it's the other words that draw my attention. Speedrun, national record, pro play. Those things must draw the interest of viewers, or at least make them angry, encouraging them to watch the video.
Even so, getting ten thousand views on her very first video is amazing.
I can't help myself. "May I ask how you drummed up attention for the video?"
"Oh, I pretended to be someone else and carpet-bombed relevant threads on anonymous forms and comment sections on big blogs that talk about video games. Once that gets shared to social media, well, everything falls into place."
Just like I thought, it seems you need to call in people from other places. But that introduces a big problem.
"And they just let you do that?" I ask.
"Well, you can't be too persistent, or they block you. But as a computer whiz, that's my time to shine! Knowing how to command arguments is a core skill on the internet. People will try to attack you, but boy, it feels good to surround them with multiple accounts and shut them down with a show of brute force."
"I wish you wouldn't teach her strange things like that," says my neighbor.
"What are you saying? That's a standard strategy in online battlefields."
As we chat, the video continues to play. Futarishizuka progresses through the game, all the while commentating in that excitable, youthful voice.
"Waaah! Where are all the synthesis monsters? Come on, get out here, you big dumb oafs! I need to synthesize at least one piece of gear on this floor, or I'm gonna lose so much time in the midgame! Shizu's gonna end up a small fry herself!"
I've never played this title, or really any video games. But even I can understand the player's situation. Her commentary makes it easy to follow what's going on. Her banter sounds casual, but I can tell she's really using her head.
"Don't tell me you're going to stream in this style for the entire contest," my neighbor says.
"Oh, what's this? Has my mesugaki persona made your heart skip a beat?"
"No, I'm just genuinely curious. Isn't acting like that embarrassing?"
"Hee-hee! Sounds like something a small fry would say!" Futarishizuka says in her high-pitched anime voice. "You've gotta abandon all your shame, or you won't get any views!"
"I'm sorry. You're frying my brain with that voice. Could you stop?"
"You know, I've always wondered if this kind of persona catches on because of how easy they are to spot and understand. I thought the same thing when everyone was into tsundere girls a while back. The key is being able to convey it without using illustrations—like with canned phrases and tropey voices."
"Tsundere girls? Wasn't that two decades ago? That's more than a while back. I was still in high school, or college, I think."
"Oh, Shizu just hates it when people say mean things like that! You need to learn to respect your elders…"
"Okay, now you're just mixing it all up."
What is a mesugaki? I wonder. Considering my neighbor's reaction, maybe the concept is something worth learning about. I may not be able to fully assume that sort of character, but perhaps I can grasp the essence of the idea. I decide to look up tsundere, too, for good measure.
"Oh, I've heard of tsundere," chimes in Makeup. "Those characters act all prickly in public, but as soon as they're alone with the person they like, they go into heat right away. I saw a video once about how girls like that were popular in anime a long time ago."
"I think you've misunderstood the finer points, but you're mostly right," says my neighbor.
"Hey, now. That was way off the mark," insists Ms. Futarishizuka. "They're prickly when they first meet their love interest, but then they start to open up as they interact and fall more and more in love. Your explanation makes it sound like they're just shy."
I guess I won't have to look that one up after all.
Just then, I notice Blondie react.
"I didn't know that was part of this country's culture! Sasaki, do you like these 'tsundere' people?" she asks.
"My own opinion is beside the point," he responds. "At the time, it was a social phenomenon."
"When you say prickly, does that mean the 'tsundere' pushes away the other person?"
"Yes, essentially."
"Oh, how fascinating."
"Er, might I ask what you mean, Lady Elsa?"
"For a while now, when I see you looking troubled or worried, I feel my spine start to tingle. I thought perhaps the concept of 'tsundere' might explain it. If so, I'd very much like you to instruct me further in the matter."
"..."
Is this girl for real? It sounds like she's just a sadist!
My neighbor puts on a strange expression.
The way she feigns meekness, then suddenly throws out shockingly off-color jokes, upsetting my neighbor…is it all a manifestation of her unconscious sadistic tendencies? Is her spine tinging at this very moment?
"With all due respect, I believe that's something else entirely," says my neighbor.
"Is that so? How disappointing."
I knew I couldn't let my guard down around this blond girl. I can't let her interact with my neighbor any further. What if he turns out to be a masochist? That would be terrible. I have to change the topic. But to what?
Before I can do anything, Makeup starts talking. "Putting aside all that indecent stuff, I'm impressed, Futarishizuka. You act all high-and-mighty, but you're working pretty hard, aren't you? Though I guess you were the one who suggested this whole thing."
"Eh? Are you looking down on me, girlie?"
"That's not what I meant. But if I offended you, then I apologize."
"By the sound of things, you must have a plan you think can beat Shizu's Gaming Dojo."
"Maybe I do, maybe I don't. Just remember that the bigger they are, the harder they fall."
Makeup's odd confidence makes me curious. She wears her heart on her sleeve, so if she's acting like this, then she probably already has a lot of views. If she was in a bad situation, she would be a ball of nerves right now.
Ten thousand views is a major accomplishment. But those are baby numbers compared to when a video blows up in a big community. Miss Hoshizaki must be in a good enough position to see that.
Maybe it's time for a little prodding. "I don't mean to pry, but have you already uploaded a video?" I ask her.
"Oh, well, here and there."
"…I see."
That only makes me even more certain that she's earned quite a lot of views already. In which case, it's very likely that my neighbor and I are fighting for last place. As for Robot Girl, well, a diamond on a dunghill is still a diamond—and a bugged mechanical life-form is still a mechanical life-form. She's probably already got a grasp on the human heart and is raking in the views.
I begin to worry about how to proceed. The contest's winner gets to ask the loser for any request. In the best-case scenario, I win, and my neighbor gets last place. But I get the feeling there's not much chance of that happening. That leaves me another choice—lose on purpose to keep my neighbor out of last place and prevent him from falling under the power of another woman. But if Makeup won and got to order me around, it would really piss me off.
Either I can support my neighbor and lose, or focus on myself and let him take the fall. What an irritating conundrum.
I still have some time before I have to make my decision, so I decide to wait and see how things go. If worse comes to worst, I can always delete my channel and bring my view count back down to zero. I might as well do my best as a VTuber in the meantime.
"What about your video, Elsa?" asks Makeup. She's trying to change the subject, so we stop pestering her. Everyone's attention shifts to Blondie and Hot Prince. "Weren't you going to post another to try and calm down the uproar?"
"Well, we just released Prince Lewis's new video, but…" Blondie looks conflicted. Is there some sort of problem? She's always so bright and cheerful, her expression seems out of place. "Um, little bird? Was it really okay to upload such a disrespectful video?"
"He gave his explicit permission. You've nothing to be concerned about."
"Indeed. I made this decision myself," insists the prince. "You may rest at ease, Elsa."
"Still…"
The rest of us watch this exchange in silence.
"Ahhhn! A shop, thank heavens! And look—this ring! It boosts your critical rate based on how many cursed items you have! Such a find! This one ring will set me up for the whole rest of the game! Shizu is such a little burglar!"
Meanwhile Futarishizuka's youthful, energetic voice is still blaring from the TV. We know what she's up to now, so can't we just turn it off? Her rambling is so packed with info that it's really distracting me.
"I hear that in Japan, such acts are accepted as perfectly normal," continues Hot Prince. "Diversity, I believe you call it? Such a wonderful part of your culture. Thus, I do not believe there is anything to be worried about."
"You heard the man. It won't be an issue."
"But, still…," mumbles Blondie.
Though Blondie looks troubled, the sparrow and Hot Prince don't seem too concerned.
"Peeps, could you maybe fill me in?" says my neighbor.
"Wait, you mean you haven't seen it yet?" asks Futarishizuka.
"No, I've been too preoccupied with my own videos."
"Then you should just watch it. You'll understand right away."
"What do you mean?"
Futarishizuka uses her phone to change the image on the TV. Instead of her let's-play, it now shows Blondie's and the sparrow's channel. I've looked at their account several times myself. The main page shows their latest video. The title is Prince Lewis - New Outfit Reveal!
The video starts playing right away. It was uploaded less than an hour ago, but it already has over a hundred thousand views.
"Ah. I see now," my neighbor says.
The content of the video is nothing extraordinary. Hot Prince is dressed up like a woman, and he's really pulling it off.
His dress reminds me of something a foreign princess might wear. Bold slits expose his thighs, and his shoulders are bare. There's something bewitching about all that exposed skin. His long hair means he doesn't need a wig. A little bit of adjustment is all it took to make the style look feminine. You'd never guess he was a man.
The comment section agrees, and the video has drawn high praise. It seems like their attempt to drown out the haters is going very well.
"What do you think, Baron Sasaki?" asks the prince. "Is it to your liking?"
"You look gorgeous, sir."
But Blondie's expression is still dark as she watches the video. Maybe this sort of thing isn't as common where she comes from. I hear that in some countries, falsifying your gender is a criminal offense.
My neighbor turns to her with consideration. "But I can understand your concerns, Lady Elsa."
"Y-yes? I knew you would."
"Am I correct in assuming that Prince Lewis was the one to suggest this?"
"Indeed, it was my suggestion," replies Hot Prince. "Now, how has the world responded?"
"As far as I can tell from the comments here and elsewhere on the internet, it has gone over largely well, sir. There is criticism, of course, but far less than before."
"Ah, excellent. I was hoping to help, so it wouldn't do if I were to further inconvenience Elsa and the bird."
"There you have it, Lady Elsa. I don't believe this video will be a problem."
"Wait, Sasaki, are you serious?" Makeup interrupts.
"With all due respect, this isn't all that uncommon here in Japan."
I read in a library book that Japanese society has been accepting of male homosexuality for over a millennium, so this seems like a reasonable statement to me. Homosexuality was suppressed for a time after the Meiji Restoration because of the infiltration of Christian values, but lately it's been regaining its former position. The amount of time it was viewed as heresy doesn't even add up to a tenth of the time it was accepted. Long before people began talking about LGBT rights, such things were considered normal here in Japan.
"And there's drastically fewer haters in the comments," notes Futarishizuka. "Hysterical, really."
"Men do like this stuff. Can't imagine why," says Makeup.
"Oh, but we women have Takarazuka, don't we? Are you saying you don't enjoy it?"
"Well, I guess I do, now that you mention it…"
Makeup watches the video with a dubious gaze. Hot Prince is very pretty, even compared to me and Makeup, so maybe she's envious. Everyone has their own tastes in this department, so I don't want to pass any judgment.
"Elsa, there is actually much to learn from this," says Hot Prince. "If you ask me, entertainment and government are two sides of the same coin. You must understand the minds of the people in order to control them. I think there is much benefit to be had from studying the mechanisms of this country."
"I had no idea you'd thought this through so deeply… I'm, um, I'm impressed!" Blondie stammers.
The video's view count continues to rise, even as we watch it. I search the title on my own phone and see that several news sites have already picked up the story. The channel name and the word "Hot Prince" are trending on social media, too.
"Compared to this, ten thousand views is peanuts," says Futarishizuka.
"Their channel does have the bureau's backing," my neighbor points out.
After we watch the video and chat for a bit, the youngest daughter speaks up. She's been eating in silence until now, and her tone is stiff and formal.
"Elsa, Grandmother, it is unfair that the family is so focused on your accomplishments. I think it is only right for us to discuss the youngest daughter's status as well. It is important for a family to spend time soothing their truant child's traumatized heart. Humans have written about this in many places."
"Oh, um, I'm sorry. What have you been up to, Type Twelve?" asks Lady Elsa.
"Come, now, girlie," says Futarishizuka. "How are we supposed to talk about your videos if you're hiding your account? Don't you think that's a bit unreasonable?"
"Urgh-gh-gh."
All-in-all, I believe our dinner conversation served as a good wake-up call for everyone participating in the contest.
(The Neighbor's POV)
Once pretend family time is over, Abaddon and I go back to our home in Karuizawa. We head straight for the recording studio in the guest room and start our strategy meeting in front of the laptop. We're trying to figure out how we can win this view-count contest.
"Our views have really dropped off. Curious."
"It's probably because we're not drawing in anyone new. Without a constant influx, subsequent videos naturally get fewer and fewer views. That's why everyone is so desperate to advertise."
"But it looks like we're still getting comments."
"I think that's probably inevitable."
The view and comment numbers on our videos are as follows:
120 views, 7 comments.
101 views, 6 comments.
86 views, 5 comments.
80 views, 6 comments.
77 views, 4 comments.
59 views, 4 comments.
41 views, 12 comments.
The newest video has an awful lot of comments. I check the posters' accounts; they all belong to the same group that first found my channel and spread the word to their friends. The comments read: "Three updates in one day? How much free time does she have, lmao." "She's gotta be a NEET." "Poor Misaki Hanano, she'll never live up to her name." "Her flower is never going to bloom, it already rotted at the root." "Literally can't stop laughing at how gloomy she sounds. She just can't hide it." "The visuals are still ridiculously high-quality, though." "Isn't the video editing on these super intricate?" "Could a single person really put out this much stuff?" "Maybe she just stole it all." "But those motions are practically unreal."
Once again, our video has become a topic among the members of their group, and they're dominating the comment section. At this point, the video barely matters; they're treating the comments as their own private forum.
Here and there, I see other users, seemingly unrelated to the group, making negative comments, too. Maybe seeing the others' remarks diluted their sense of ethics. At any rate, I still can't find a single positive opinion.
Such poor behavior. If this keeps up, I won't be able to continue my activities as planned. My channel is completely at their mercy, and they're treating it like a toy for their amusement.
I can't let this go on, I think, firming my resolve.
If I continue as I have been, my channel will never be popular. And seeing how well Futarishizuka and Blondie are doing, and how confident Makeup is, I feel impatient and frustrated with my own failure. What's more, I resent all this one-sided bullying.
It's time.
"Abaddon, I've made a decision."
"What is it?"
"Misaki Hanano will be retiring, effective today."
"Are you going to stop uploading videos?"
"No, not at all."
"What do you mean?"
"I think it's time to listen to the bullies."
If I'm going to change tactics, I'd better do it quickly. The more time passes, the more effort it will take to make a major course correction. At this stage, I can still start over. In fact, you could call this a prime opportunity. Maybe I can even take advantage of the haters' comments.
"Has all the negativity left you disheartened?"
"I'm not that delicate, Abaddon. It will take more than bullying from complete strangers to discourage me. I used to eat weeds to stave off starvation. This level of malice is nothing."
"Your argument is extremely persuasive, but doesn't it make you sad to admit that?"
"Aren't you the one always calling me a depressing introvert?"
"Huh? Oh. Well, yeah… Um. If I hurt your feelings, I'll apologize."
"I wish you wouldn't try to act nice. It creeps me out."
"Then hurry up and tell me what the deal is."
One moment he's dejected, the next he's in a huff. He's probably just trying to hide his embarrassment, though—an unusual reaction for him.
I turn toward the laptop. This time, we'll seize the initiative. If I don't take risks, I'll never get the views I need.
"The haters' criticisms have all been very specific. So why not humor them? Effective marketing includes riding the waves of public opinion. Or at least, I think I read that somewhere." I won't let this end with my channel being a toy for haters. It's time I showed them a thing or two. "The name 'Misaki Hanano' was too much for me to handle."
"Oh, so you're gonna reinvent your character with a different personality?"
"Exactly."
First, I need to figure out a new name. I think for a bit, and one comes to me fairly easily.
"From now on, I will be called 'Ochiba Kareki.'"
There's a certain ring to it. I think it's pretty good for something I came up with on the spot. The haters said I was a flower that withered before it could bloom, so I chose a first name meaning "fallen leaves" and a last name meaning "dead tree."
"You came up with that a lot more quickly than the last one!"
"What are you trying to say, Abaddon?"
"Nothing at all!"
I'm well aware of what he's implying. I'm a gloomy introvert, through and through.
Before, I wanted to hide my true nature and act like a sunnier character, but that was my first mistake. I'll leave the role-play to professional actors; a newbie like me can't pull it off. If I'm going to put on an act, I need to choose a role that will allow me to incorporate my authentic self.
"I won't be able to stick with this model, either."
"You want to change the design?"
"I'd like to adjust it, if we can get the younger sister to help."
I bring up Misaki Hanano's image on the screen and speak into thin air.
"Excuse me. I'd like to make some changes to my model. Would you be able to assist me?"
When I do, the model moves in response to my voice, holding up her arms in a big O shape to signal she'll help. That settles the matter. I'm sure Robot Girl heard everything Abaddon and I were talking about through the room's microphones, so she probably already knows what direction I want to go with.
"Thank you very much. To start…"
I don't alter the base design at all, but I make adjustments in many areas. It feels a little like my character went all out to change her image when she entered high school, only to mess it up and get ostracized by her classmates. She failed to become the sunny extrovert she dreamed of, and now she's a gloomy introvert. And so her polished pretense peels away, leaving behind only a painful, embarrassing memory.
Oh, that's pretty good. I think I'll make that her new background story.
"…Yes, that's right. Can you make the bangs a little longer? Just enough to cover her eyes. And I'd like the expression to be more melancholy, to really show the contrast. Oh, I had a question about the moving parts in the model's back. When she hunches over…"
"Ah, a miserable fate has befallen our lovely Miss Hanano."
"Don't be rude, Abaddon. This is what the market demands."
My requests begin to steadily change the model's appearance. Incredibly, the mechanical life-form's high-tech program manages to accurately interpret my vague explanations as it makes various adjustments. This must be the result of her continuing efforts to learn about human culture. She's working hard to understand us, gathering more information from the internet every day.
"Her hair is too bright. How about we say she was dyeing it before, and now it's gone back to its natural black color? She can't be bothered to get it cut, either, so it's grown unnaturally long in certain places. I think that should work."
I don't know why, but as I look at her, I feel a certain affection. This feels right—as though the adjustments are clearing away all the things that were wrong about Misaki Hanano.
After a while, I say, "Okay, I think this is good. All that's left is to do something about her flower accessories. I hate to ask, since I was the one who suggested them, but could you possibly get rid of—?"
"Elder Sister," Robot Girl suddenly interrupts, her voice coming through the speaker; she sounds the same as always. "The younger sister finds this work a little upsetting."
"Oh. I'm sorry. I've been making a lot of requests without considering how much work it must be."
"It's not that, Elder Sister."
"Then what is it?"
"As a shut-in, I find that your negative emotions hit very close to home. I would like to encourage you to be more optimistic. In addition, this 3D model is blameless. I hope you will continue to cherish her for a long time to come."
Mechanical life-forms can't lie. This must have truly upset her.
But was I really being that negative? All I was doing was making adjustments to the model. I guess I got too excited about ripping away her sunny facade. Either way, I'd better apologize to Robot Girl.
"I'm very sorry. The work you do is so brilliant that I got a little carried away. I'll try to be more optimistic like you said, so would you please keep helping me out until this is finished? I promise to cherish this new, improved version of the model."
"Your high praise brings me joy. Understood. I will resume improving this 3D model. And I will remove the flower accessories as you requested."
"Really sorry my partner's asking so much of you. I'll be sure to admonish her later."
"Elder Brother, thank you for being so considerate of my sorrow."
Seeing Abaddon so sincerely apologetic makes me feel a little guilty. Am I really that gloomy?
In any case, Misaki Hanano is soon reborn as Ochiba Kareki. Once we're finished, Robot Girl leaves, pleading with me not to give up on life. Then the speakers go silent. I never dreamed she'd worry about me like that, so I'm not sure how to respond.
"Abaddon, I'd like to put the younger sister's work to good use and record a new video before I go to bed. First, we'll need another self-introduction. Since I'm switching out my model, I need to lock in the specifics."
"If that's what you want, then I have nothing to say. I'm just here to help you out."
Still riding the excitement from redesigning my model, we start recording. Compared to when I was trying to be Misaki Hanano, this is far, far easier.
"Hello. I'm Ochiba Kareki. I apologize to anyone who came here looking for Misaki Hanano. She tried to change her image for her high school debut, but it didn't work out, and now she's a gloomy introvert. But she still wants to find her place in the world, so she decided to stay optimistic and keep working hard."
Since the model's appearance is so somber-looking, I don't need to consciously try to make my voice cheerful. Everything goes much more pleasantly than I expected. It's a walk in the park compared to recording for Misaki Hanano.
"I still dream of being truly bright and cheerful one day. And so I would like to continue my activities—not as Misaki Hanano, but as Ochiba Kareki. First off, I would like to clear up all the lies Hanano told you, as well as retract her bland, uninteresting view of the world. I'll start off with my hobbies…"
We make it through recording almost in one shot. I then remember to change my profile picture to the new 3D model.
Ochiba Kareki is sixteen years old and currently attending high school. She likes reading, browsing the internet, and gardening. She's fond of quiet places, vegetables and mushrooms she's raised herself, and edible wild plants. She hates crowds, loud classrooms, and gym class. In the future, she wants to be self-sufficient and move to a prefecture bordering the ocean.
It all comes very naturally to me. I've begun to take a genuine liking her. I get the impression I really will cherish her as I become the person in the costume, as it were.
"Kareki has the same basic appearance as Hanano and shares some of her likes, too. Are they supposed to be the same person?"
"Yes. I wanted to use her as part of this character's history. Ochiba Kareki wants to bloom into Misaki Hanano one day. I figured if she had an easy-to-understand goal, viewers might feel a sense of purpose in watching her.
"Seems like her interests and preferences have done a complete flip-flop, though!"
"That's why I put an explanation up front."
"I wonder if you could phrase it in a slightly catchier way. One that has more consideration for the youngest daughter's emotional well-being."
"Maybe I should just say she's the type to read books at her desk in class, even during breaks times."
"Sounds like you're introducing yourself, not her."
"..."
I think it's time to ignore this demon.
I upload the finished video, then close the laptop. I've done what I needed to, and now it's time for bed. I get up and leave the room, paying my sarcastic partner no mind.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"To take a bath."
"You don't want to watch the video you uploaded?"
Abaddon immediately floats into the air and follows me. He always waits in the changing room when I take a bath. One time, I suggested he join me. "I don't mind, but you'd have to give me a reward," was his smug reply. I never asked again, though I imagine he was just being considerate, in his own way. He's never smelled bad, so it's not really an issue.
"I'll check it in the morning."
"But what if you toss and turn all night again?"
"I have school tomorrow. If I don't at least lie down and rest, class will be rough."
I take a quick bath, then go into my room and climb into bed. For some reason—maybe because I finally just did what I wanted—I start to drift off almost as soon as my head hits the pillow. Maybe I was simply exhausted. Either way, I'm sound asleep before I know it.
I'll have to thank Robot Girl again for indulging her elder sister.
(The Neighbor's POV)
First thing in the morning, I head straight to the guest room, still wearing my pajamas. I open up the laptop and see the page for the video I uploaded the night before: Ochiba Kareki's gloomy self-introduction.
Below the video is the number of times it's been watched.
And that number, amazingly, is 53,012.
I take one look and exclaim, "We did it, Abaddon! I was right!"
"Wow, I guess things really can blow up overnight."
I'm very pleased. I'm not quite as ecstatic as I was when I finally found my neighbor's social media account after months of trying. But I'm about as happy as when I won rock-paper-scissors at lunch and scored an extra flan for dessert. Okay, maybe I'm not that happy. School lunches seem less pressing now that I have a steady supply of food and a roof over my head, but things were different back then.
At any rate, I'm feeling good.
"Hey, look at you. I almost never see you without some kind of sarcastic expression," says Abaddon, as if he can read my mind.
"…Is that so?"
Ignoring him, I start checking the comments.
A significant percentage of people are making references to Misaki Hanano. They understand how we got here, and now they're praising the Ochiba Kareki character. I figure that's probably how the video got to 53,012 views.
"There was a girl in my class like Hanano who had a head full of flowers. A real idiot." "Tbh, I prefer Kareki." "What a difference from Hanano." "Her depression is so real, it almost hurts." "Hanano's try-hard attitude was all foreshadowing." "I hope this was intentional. Otherwise the people behind this channel must be really embarrassed."
Suddenly curious, I type Ochiba Kareki's name into a search engine. It seems we're being talked about on an anonymous forum. I find a thread someone put up in the VTuber section making fun of our channel, and it has a ton of responses.
People on social media are talking about us, too. Not enough to trend, but the video's URL is being posted all over, thanks to some accounts that like to follow new VTubers.
From there, blogs that compile news on this kind of topic put out articles summarizing the entire string of events. A gloomy VTuber, unable to fully sell her upbeat character model, has now switched her appearance. I assume a lot of the viewers came from those sites.
"They sure aren't holding back in the comments."
"Views are views. Let's be content with them."
"Omg, they changed the model instead of the person using it." "I can't believe they already redid the model. That was so fast. They've gotta have some crazy tech, right?" "The new model matches her depressing voice perfectly lmao." "This model fits her way better." "Can't believe how natural she sounds."
Given the context, I decide to take these comments as congratulatory.
They aren't going to listen to me, no matter what I say, and it would probably take a lawsuit to shut them up for good. I can't do that as a minor, and if it went to court, I'd have to reveal my identity—a lethal mistake for someone in the death game.
Getting bashed is irritating, but my only choice is to simply endure it.
"Hey, look at this number here. It was zero yesterday, but now it's really high." Abaddon points at the screen.
"Oh, that's the number of people subscribed to our channel." I didn't have any yesterday, yet now I have almost a thousand. "A pretty high percentage of the people who watched must have subscribed. If what I read on the internet is right, it usually takes around one to two hundred thousand views to get a thousand subscribers."
"I guess that means society thinks highly of what you're saying."
"Judging by the comments, their praise is mostly for the quality of the younger sister's 3D model. If someone else had been playing Misaki Hanano, I think that alone would have made her popular."
"You're always so modest about these things. Are you embarrassed? How unusual." As always, the demon focuses his efforts on lighthearted banter.
What's wrong with being embarrassed? I've never experienced anything like this before in my life. I feel like I'm floating. The information displayed on the screen might as well be something from another world.
"This also means we meet the requirements for monetization," I say, trying to change the topic.
"Oh, yeah. We can get money for uploading videos, right?"
"Yes. I never thought we'd make it this far."
If we can earn some real money, we won't need to rely on Futarishizuka as much. There are a lot of obstacles to overcome—like getting permission from a guardian and opening a bank account—but it seems worth looking into, at least.
If this goes well, my dream of leaving the villa and moving in next to my neighbor, wherever he ends up, could actually be feasible. Come to think of it, I wonder where he's living right now. Last time I asked, he said he'd evacuated to a hotel close to our old apartment building.
"Talk about attractive prospects! We won't have to bother the landlady nearly as much."
"Yes. My thoughts exactly."
It seems I have a new motivation to upload videos, aside from Futarishizuka's contest. Maybe I can be more optimistic, just like I promised Robot Girl.
There's no rule saying I can't keep up my channel after the contest is over. If all goes well, and I start to see the potential for steady income, I can ask the landlady about monetization.
"I'm always surprised by the weird things human beings want," Abaddon remarks as he watches Ochiba Kareki's self-introduction.
I agree with him there. Personally, I thought Misaki Hanano had a much better chance of success. Of course, going against the grain is also a tried-and-true method, but unfortunately, those sorts of characters naturally wind up incredibly negative. Is the market really that saturated, and the viewers that bored with the status quo?
Well, I'll probably start to see the bigger picture if I just keep uploading. I once read that the people producing a product often fail to appreciate its true value.
"I think we should keep trying to cater to niche demands," I say. "We want to keep up the views, so let's do our best on the next video. For now, I'll work mainly on writing scripts during school."
"I'd rather you pay more attention to your studies!"
There are more than ten days left in the contest. Maybe I should aim for first place. After all, there's a reward on the line.
If my neighbor's going to fall, I want to fall with him, as far as we can. And I can only do that by winning.
The fifth day after Ms. Futarishizuka officially declared the start of the view-count contest was a weekday.
During the week, I spent my mornings at the house in the UFO, taking part in pretend family time. My early-to-bed, early-to-rise lifestyle from my life as a teacher was already a distant memory, and my sleep cycle was back to normal. For now, even on the clock I was able to pass my time as I wished.
Despite all my free time, however, my videos weren't going the way I'd hoped.
I'd given up on music-related content. I'd uploaded several more, but they never got more than two-digit view counts. Most of them stayed in the single digits. Almost nobody was watching them. It was clear this wasn't going anywhere, and I needed to come up with a new idea.
That Monday, I'd tried streaming video games. Unfortunately, that had failed as well. There was no demand for a middle-aged man muttering to himself alongside a mediocre gameplay performance. That got even less response than my music videos. In fact, it got no views at all, and I'd deleted it that morning.
I decided to leave the villa in search of a better idea. Smartphone in hand, I walked through Futarishizuka's Karuizawa neighborhood, past one vacation home after another. The air was brisk and refreshing.
Despite its altitude, this area didn't get much snowfall. Even at this time of year, it wasn't too cold to walk around outside. If it did snow, it would cap out at around ten centimeters and melt after only a few days. There were plenty of weeks with no snow at all, and sometimes the temperature got up to almost ten degrees Celsius.
I walked along a woodland path in the early afternoon sun. There wasn't much wind, and I basked in the rays streaming down through the trees. It was cold if I stood still, but the patches of sun felt nice and warm on my skin.
This was a true luxury. I would never have experienced this at my old job.
"I feel as though we spend less time together these days," said Peeps from atop my shoulder. He'd warped us back from the UFO earlier.
"That's because we haven't been going to the otherworld as much."
"It has been quite busy here, too, as of late. Do you think we will finally have some time to relax?"
"I don't know if I'll be able to kick back until Ms. Futarishizuka's event is out of the way. Still, the boss gave his approval. I doubt he'll assign me any other tasks, as long as no sudden problems arise."
"I see. That sets me at ease."
"Were you worried about something?"
"In this world, I am the only one relaxing. I have, unfortunately, saddled you with all the responsibilities, and I feel guilty about that. Then again, I am limited in how much I can help while we are here."
"Aw, Peeps…" What a considerate pet! Why, it made my heart skip a beat to hear him talk like that. "Don't worry about it. You've actually been helping an awful lot, even here."
"I savor the slow life while you toil away."
"Why don't you think of it as a reward for all your hard work so far?"
"But that does not excuse leaving all the labor on your shoulders."
"I'm relaxing right now, aren't I?"
Strolling along and sharing easygoing conversation with Peeps was supremely therapeutic, to put it lightly. I could almost forget my progress in the contest, or rather my complete lack of progress. I felt so relaxed, I was starting to think it wouldn't be that bad to get last place.
I walked for almost an hour but didn't come up with any good ideas. Nevertheless, getting to chat with Peeps cheered me up.
Once again, I prevailed upon him to warp us back to the UFO. Back in my room at the house, I took a seat at the low table and stared at my closed laptop, trying to pump myself up. I had a feeling I wouldn't manage to crawl out of last place, but I had to put in the bare minimum of effort, at least. Participating in this contest was essentially my job right now.
But not long after I sat down, I heard someone at the door. They knocked lightly, then a moment later, said, "Are you there, mister?"
"Oh, yes. Come on in."
My neighbor slid open the door, and I could see Abaddon bobbing in the air behind her.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you," she said. "I know you must be busy."
"It's fine; I wasn't doing much. Did you need something?" I stood up and went over to the doorway. The two of them were still standing just outside.
"I don't have anything to offer in return, but I wanted to ask you for a favor," said my neighbor, her tone a bit formal.
"What kind of favor? I'll do whatever I can."
"Really? All right. In that case…"
What came out of her mouth next was a request I never would have expected in a million years.
(The Neighbor's POV)
Encouraged by our initial success with Ochiba Kareki, Abaddon and I quickly set about creating our next video.
That said, because it's a weekday, I have to attend school. I briefly consider taking the day off, but since Futarishizuka is kindly providing a driver for me, I can't bring myself to play hooky. I'm also pretty sure my neighbor wouldn't approve.
I rein myself in, deciding to use my spare time between classes to think of a script. Eventually classes end, and I head home, holding in my impatience.
The older gentleman who always drives me asks if something good happened. I didn't think I was acting any differently from usual, but maybe my excitement showed on my face.
Once we're home, I decide that changing out of my uniform will take too long and head straight to the guest room instead. I sit down at the desk and turn on the laptop. Once it boots up, I see that I've received a message.
"What's this? You've got mail! Wonder who it's from." It seems the sharp-eyed demon has noticed, too.
"Probably just spam or something."
The pop-up disappears quickly, but urged on by Abaddon, I click the notification icon. It looks like the email is for the address I used to open up my account on the video submission website. I've made it public on my channel so third parties can contact me.
At the very top of the notification list is a notice that I received an email. And the sender is…
"Otherworld Productions Inc.?"
"Someone you know?"
"No, of course not."
The topic reads, We're sending you this email after seeing a video of Ochiba Kareki. Could this be a prank orchestrated by my haters? Or maybe it's just spam.
I click on it, and my in-box comes up and displays the contents of the message.
Dear Ochiba Kareki,
My name is Kuga, and I'm from Otherworld Productions Inc. Please forgive the unprompted email.
I'm writing to you after watching videos for Hanano and Kareki. We do business in the domain of virtual reality entertainment, and we are currently planning to further expand our operations. We were extremely impressed by your video from yesterday.
While I know this may seem like a sudden proposal, would you perhaps be able to meet with us in person? We can be flexible with the time and place of the meeting, as needed.
I hope you will consider this request. Thank you for your time.
"I think I've heard of this," says Abaddon. "It's called being scouted, right?"
"That's not exactly what it said, though."
"Isn't your country all about being indirect? I think that's just the way people do things here."
I bring up a search engine and look up Otherworld Productions Inc. They're not hard to find. They're an organization that runs a major VTuber group. I even referenced their videos when I was making ours, though I only knew them by the nickname OtherPro.
"Well, it looks like they really are a big company."
"If they're not trying to scout you, why would they reach out?"
"When you put it like that, I really don't know what to say."
For a moment, I suspect it's a scam email. But the sender's address matches the company's real domain. Then I look up the business plus the name "Kuga," and that checks out as well.
"All right," I say. "Let's assume for now that they are trying to scout me."
The next question is whether I should meet with this Kuga person.
It's not likely to help me much with the contest. After all, that will be over in only two weeks, and it might take even longer to come to an agreement with the company.
Still, it seems like a solid choice, considering the possibility for mid- to long-term income. Whether I end up accepting or declining, this is an excellent chance to hear from people who have succeeded in the field. I figure it's worth it to respond.
"I think we should accept the request for a meeting," I tell Abaddon.
"I can't believe my shy partner is being so brave!"
"If we stand to benefit, then I don't mind taking a step out of my comfort zone."
There's a problem, though—I'm a minor. A first-year in middle school isn't all that different from an elementary school kid. I doubt they'll take me seriously.
In addition, I won't know what to do if they ask where the 3D models for Misaki Hanano and Ochiba Kareki came from. I wonder if they'd believe me if I said I made them myself. My motion-capture equipment is even better than the stuff professionals use.
Naturally, I can't say anything that would imply the existence of mechanical life-forms. Maintaining that secret is an important part of my neighbor's job, too. I need to do whatever it takes to keep it under wraps.
"Then you'll have to study hard, eat plenty of food, and grow into a fit, healthy adult!" Abaddon quickly launches into banter; maybe he intuited my thoughts. But his words don't seem very fitting for a demon.
"I'm your Disciple. If I were to take it easy and wait to grow up, Futarishizuka would abandon us."
"Then are you going to turn them down?"
"I don't think I have any other choice."
"Maybe you can ask someone for help. What else is family for?"
He must be talking about the rest of our pretend family. Unfortunately, of its seven members, at least five look like children, and one is a bird. Regardless of their actual ages, the only one who could really pass for an adult is my neighbor. Essentially, Abaddon is telling me to talk to him.
"No, I can't. I'd be bothering him."
"But if you're trying to do this monetization thing, don't you need help from a guardian anyway?"
"..."
Abaddon really knows how to hit me where it hurts.
If I ever want to make money from uploading videos, then sooner or later, I'll have to discuss it with my neighbor and Futarishizuka. And in that case, it makes sense to explain things now.
But my neighbor is pretty busy with his own videos. When I asked him yesterday how they were going, he looked at me with a pained expression. I'm hesitant to increase his burden on our account.
But then I reconsider. I can use this as an excuse to monopolize my neighbor's time. It'll drop him to last place in the contest, and with the company's help, Abaddon and I will win. Then I'll officially gain the right to make any request of him I want. Whether that all works out will depend on the company, but it's certainly possible.
"Oh. You're making that scheming face again."
"Not at all. I was giving my partner's opinion some serious thought." It pains me to cause my neighbor trouble. But my desire for him is just as strong. And I'm still not sure if the company is really scouting me. "And I've decided you're right. Let's go talk to him."
"Right now?"
"Yes. After school is pretend family time."
I suspect Abaddon would rather not become any more indebted to Futarishizuka, either.
With our opinions in line, we leave the house. To get from Karuizawa to the UFO, I take Robot Girl's saucer-shaped terminal as usual.
Once there, we head into the house through the front door, and a pleasant scent wafts past my nostrils. It's coming from the kitchen, and I can hear Blondie and Hot Prince in there chatting. They're probably preparing dinner.
When the view-count contest started, the two of them volunteered to handle all the cooking so the rest of us could focus on our videos. Even the newcomer prince seems opposed to freeloading. Thanks to them, we can concentrate on our work.
"I wonder what's for dinner tonight. It must be like heaven for you lately, always having proper meals."
"Why don't you ever touch the food, Abaddon? I couldn't afford to share back when I lived in the apartment, but now there's enough for you to have some, too."
"Angels and demons don't need to eat, remember?"
"But that doesn't mean you can't eat, does it? I've seen you eat all sorts of bizarre things when you revert to your original form."
"If I don't need to eat, then why make them cook more?"
"I guess you're right."
We usually head to the living room first, but today we go straight to my neighbor's room. The floor creaks with each step I take. When I reach my destination, I knock lightly on the closed door.
"Are you there, mister?"
An immediate response comes from inside.
"Oh, yes. Come on in."
With permission, I grip the door handle. Futarishizuka coated the sliding door's track with wax, and it moves so smoothly, I can hardly believe it. We stay in the hallway, and my neighbor gets up and comes over to us.
"I'm sorry for disturbing you," I say. "I know you must be busy."
"It's fine; I wasn't doing much. Did you need something?"
"I don't have anything to offer in return, but I wanted to ask you for a favor."
"What kind of favor? I'll do whatever I can."
"Really? All right. In that case, do you have a moment?"
"Sure thing. Want to go to the living room?"
"If possible, I don't want the others to overhear."
"Shall I leave, then?" asks the sparrow.
"Oh, um, no. You can stay."
"Then can I ask you to come inside?" says my neighbor.
"S-sure…"
I take a step into the room, then realize something. This may be happening at our pretend family's house, but it's still a momentous occasion.
This is the first time in my life he's invited me into his room.
I let my neighbor and Abaddon in and heard them out.
That was how I learned about my neighbor's VTuber activities, and that she'd already been scouted by a company. It all came as a shock.
The view-count contest was all anyone in the pretend family had been talking about for the last few days. I knew my neighbor had already uploaded several videos, but I hadn't realized she was a VTuber. I'd had no idea she had such talent.
"I think I understand," I said. "So you need an adult's help talking with them."
"I'm really sorry for bringing this to you all of a sudden."
"Not at all. It's no big deal. I really don't mind."
It seemed Type Twelve had provided her with the necessary equipment. The alien had probably manufactured it on the moon, or on some other planet, just like the translators we used to talk to Lady Elsa. I could only imagine what kind of amazing videos she was producing with such incredible, high-powered technology.
"Are you sure it's all right?" she asked.
"Well, can I see the email you mentioned?"
"Sure. Here it is."
My neighbor nodded and reached into the skirt pocket of her uniform. She pulled out her phone and fiddled with it for a moment, then set it in the middle of the table. We sat down across from each other, and she pushed the phone toward me. Her email app was already open, and I began to read the text on the screen.
Though I felt a little bad about it, I'd suspected this was some kind of scam. However, the email looked genuine as far as I could tell. I even recognized the company and their web domain.
"We looked up Kuga and the business's name and found them online. I think this is probably the real thing. But please feel free to correct me if I've gotten anything wrong."
"No, you're right. I think this is a real invitation."
"I did wonder about how indirect the contents are, however."
"Sorry to keep requesting things from you, but would you mind showing me the video you uploaded?"
"Oh, um… Well, uh, sure. Here you go…"
She reached out to the phone and closed the email app, then opened up the video submission site. I was impressed by how quickly she'd taken to using her first smartphone.
The screen showed the home page for what I assumed was her channel. She'd probably already had it open. She was so professional, I was starting to wonder if she was really just a middle school first-year.
Eventually, she pushed the play button, and the video started.
"Hello. Ochiba Kareki here. In this video, I'd like to introduce a book to you all. If you want to survive—er, improve—your breaks at school and other time spent alone in the classroom, this is the perfect book for you. Making this choice is crucial, so…"
I gave the whole video a once-over. My neighbor watched from across the table, seeming unusually nervous.
"Hmm? Oh, are you embarrassed?"
"Please be quiet, Abaddon."
Abaddon floated right behind her like always. He was sitting on his knees, just like my neighbor, but his legs bobbed about twenty centimeters above the tatami. The way his whole body was tilted to one side was very cute. Usually, he didn't assume such a formal, polite posture. They'd come here to make a request, so he must have been on his best behavior.
"…Thank you for watching to the end. Next time, I'll tell you how to get through gym class when the teacher forces you to pair off with someone, including a breakdown for each specific situation. I hope you tune in again. I'll see you then."
After several minutes, I'd finished all the videos.
"A stark difference from the ones you submitted," commented the distinguished sparrow atop my shoulder.
"Yeah," I replied. "Really brings home my own lack of ability."
"Um, I'm sorry, mister. It's all because the youngest daughter helped me."
"You're doing all the voices and motions, right?"
"Yes, I am…"
"To be honest, I'm not surprised someone would want to scout you."