…Y-you really think so?"
Now that I'd seen the videos, I felt I had a good understanding of the situation. She was right—the high-quality 3D model and impressive mo-cap technology were the first things to draw my eye. But the scripts and overall storyline, including changing her model and starting over partway through, was really powerful.
I wasn't sure how much of it was consciously thought out, but it made sense to me why someone would approach her. The equipment certainly didn't seem wasted on her—at least, not after her restart.
Maybe it wasn't nice to say so, but my neighbor's subdued voice fit Ochiba Kareki's visuals perfectly. That, plus the stark contrast between the two characters, must have really drawn in the viewers. It was also true that material found to be crude or lacking in subtlety by intellectuals was exactly the kind of thing the masses really liked.
"Even I have heard of this thing," declared Peeps. "It is called a 'vee-tuber,' yes?"
"That's right," said my neighbor. "I'm always surprised by the family pet's wisdom."
"I read an article on the internet that explained it as a new method of expression for the digital age."
I suspected the scout wasn't quite sure what to make of my neighbor and Abaddon's channel. Was she working alone, or as part of a company? Was a famous content creator assisting her? What was the scale of her operation, and how much money had been invested? They'd sent this email to test the waters and intended to figure out how she'd respond to an offer based on her reply. That was probably why the text had come out so indirect. They probably figured that if she was already supported by another company, she would simply turn them down.
"There's something I'd like to ask you before we meet with the scout," I said. "Is that all right?"
"Sure. I'll answer any questions you have."
"On a personal level, do you want to say yes to this offer?"
"If possible, I do—just as long as it won't affect my activities in the proxy war. I know that one can receive incentives for online work, and since I'm still in middle school, I figured this was one of the few ways for me to make money."
She must have apprehensions about her one-sided dependence on Ms. Futarishizuka, too. I definitely understood the feeling.
"Then why not try writing a reply? You can use my laptop," I said, gesturing at the computer sitting on the low table. I hadn't thought of any ideas for new videos, so maybe my time was better spent helping out my neighbor and Abaddon. I might have some kind of epiphany during the process.
"Are you sure? I know you're probably busy…"
"No, I won't go back on my word. If it's all right with you, I'd like to keep helping you until you get your activities on track."
"Um, yes! Thank you very much!" My neighbor offered me a formal bow.
"I'd like to offer my thanks, too. Since I'm also on the team and all."
"Please don't worry about it, Abaddon. We're all family right now."
After that, we sat at the low table and worked on a reply. Middle school kids rarely got the chance to exchange business emails, but my neighbor quickly drafted a safe, neutral response. Personally, this surprised me even more than the VTuber stuff. According to her, she'd read up on such things in the school library. Never underestimate the knowledge of an indiscriminate reader, I thought.
After a quick check-over, she sent the message off. She'd requested a meeting sometime in the next two weeks and asked if it could take place at their company headquarters.
Shocking all of us, a reply came back within minutes.
Dear Ochiba Kareki,
Thank you for your prompt reply. This is Kuga from Otherworld Productions.
I am overjoyed to hear you're interested. Thank you so much for offering to come to our headquarters as well.
We have openings every day this week, both morning and afternoon. If you'd like, we could meet as early as tomorrow morning. If you'd prefer next week, I am booked up Monday, Tuesday, and Friday, but can meet with you any other day, either morning or afternoon.
Please let me know what time would be best for you. Thank you again for considering us.
They must really see value in Abaddon and my neighbor's work, I thought. Or maybe they just have a lot of free time. Either way, it was an ardent reply.
"This Kuga seems quite enthusiastic," I said.
"Should I call off the meeting?" asked my neighbor.
"No, no need. A quick reply isn't a bad thing, and you can always change your mind after talking with him. And he accepted your offer to meet within the next two weeks. It's just that the message makes it seem like he's rather passionate about talking to you."
Still, I wasn't sure what to make of this person having almost half a week of availability. I didn't know what department Kuga worked in, but it seemed unlikely he would have whole days without a single meeting. One possibility crossed my mind: Maybe Kuga contacted my neighbor because he had a leisurely post with a lot of time to kill.
At my last place of employment, I had a coworker who got his job via personal connections, then got shunted off to a window seat to twiddle his thumbs until retirement. This wasn't unheard-of in Japanese work culture. The guy would constantly go to exhibitions and study groups on company time. I'd been a little envious of how the boss would tacitly allow him to go straight to these events and then head home without even coming into the office. But I got the feeling that if you lived like that for too long, it would crush your spirit.
On the other hand, if Kuga had opened up his schedule just for my neighbor, then it was a sign the company really, really wanted her.
A lot of the time, if you were a smaller company with a weak product, the other side would let you choose "any time in the next ten days," but when you asked, it would turn out they only had about three to four hours available, and you'd be forced to adjust your schedule around the open slots.
Getting all the necessary related parties in the same room in such a small window of time was hell. Not only would you have to explain the situation to everyone involved, you'd have to contact all the departments with conflicting schedules and try to arrange some kind of compromise, asking for favors and such. It was really tough, and then if it fell through, and you had to start over, that was even worse.
And yet it seemed like Kuga was bending over backward for my neighbor.
"Can we do it tomorrow morning, then?" she asked.
"Sure, that works for me. Sometimes our boss calls me up out of nowhere and sends me on a job, so I'd prefer to take care of it as soon as possible. Getting there should be easy, so just pick a time you like."
Kuga seemed to want to meet relatively soon as well, based on his suggestion. If my neighbor had taken even that into consideration, then I really had to take my hat off to her sagacity.
"Okay, I'll write a reply," she said. "Could you check over it again when I'm done?"
"To be frank, I'm not sure that's really necessary."
"No, I'm still a child with a lot to learn, so I'd really appreciate your advice…"
"Not backing down, eh?"
"Be quiet, Abaddon."
After another exchange of emails, we confirmed our appointment with Kuga for tomorrow morning. We would be meeting at the offices of Otherworld Productions Inc. in the Tokyo metropolitan area. We'd already explained that there were two of us—my neighbor, the one using the 3D model, and me, her manager.
By the time we'd finished up with Kuga, dinner was ready, so we headed to the living room and ate with everyone else. The main topic of conversation was our progress in the view-count contest. Ms. Futarishizuka had submitted two videos that day, and they had each garnered almost ten thousand views. Adding these to her initial submission yesterday, she was at almost thirty thousand.
Miss Hoshizaki hadn't shared her channel name, so we didn't have a concrete read on her current status. But judging by how boldly she spoke to Ms. Futarishizuka, I suspected she had a similar number of views. The same went for Type Twelve. I'd also learned of my neighbor's success today.
All of this meant that I was most definitely in last place. I had to get tens of thousands of views to stand a chance. There was no way I could catch up.
As far as I could see, there was only one option: to help my neighbor and Abaddon win the contest. That way, I would avoid any strange requests from my workplace colleagues. It might seem like a cowardly choice, but it was what I had to do.
The following day, we went to one of the most well-known office districts in Tokyo. There were lots of other IT companies in the neighborhood, all with a lively, optimistic vibe.
Peeps and I had spent the previous night at Ms. Futarishizuka's villa, then met up with my neighbor first thing in the morning. After eating breakfast with Ms. Futarishizuka, Lady Elsa, and Prince Lewis, we scrupulously got ourselves ready and departed. For transportation, we borrowed one of Type Twelve's terminals.
We arrived at our destination in just a few minutes—a famous building housing several well-known businesses.
"Check out the size of this place. It's so pretentious!"
"Please be careful not to wander off and get lost, Abaddon."
"No worries! It's impossible for me to ever lose sight of you."
"That's actually kind of creepy."
"As long as you understand."
"..."
Naturally, my neighbor and Abaddon were with me. The demon was using his strange powers to hide himself as he bobbed up and down in the air next to her. I'd been worried an isolated space might break out; this area was very crowded, and it seemed like a real possibility. Thankfully, nothing like that had happened so far. Maybe most Disciples intentionally avoided busy areas for that very reason.
My neighbor was dressed in street clothes; the police might stop us if she was walking around in her uniform, so I'd asked her not to in advance. The outfit she'd chosen gave off an especially formal impression. This was probably the work of Ms. Futarishizuka, who had provided the clothes.
We went inside and took the elevator up to OtherPro's office. At the reception desk, I gave Kuga's name, and we were promptly shown to a conference room. The space was extremely typical, and we sat down and waited there for a few minutes. Soon, a man in a suit appeared at the door.
"I'm sorry for keeping you waiting."
My neighbor and I rose from our seats; it was time to exchange business cards.
"Pleased to meet you," he said. "My name is Kuga. I'm the board director and COO of Otherworld Productions."
His tone was casual, but the revelation came as quite a shock. Our guy was really high up the ladder. Of course, this wasn't all that unusual in a company with only two hundred to three hundred employees—especially in the entertainment industry, where the average age was lower. The fact that he was in a position with lots of freedom to make decisions also explained the flexibility we'd seen in his emails. Still, he'd clearly prioritized this interview over any internal company meetings.
"I'm Sasaki of SC Industries," I said, concealing my surprise.
I'd hastily prepared a business card that morning after breakfast. I'd completely forgotten that, ever since leaving my previous place of employment, I no longer had a business card I could use in these situations. I couldn't exactly give him one that said I belonged to the police department, after all.
The company name I'd given was real. After discussing the matter with Ms. Futarishizuka over breakfast, she allowed me to use one of the many domestic corporations she owned. The midsize business was safe, its conduct good and aboveboard; it wouldn't be an issue if a third party looked into it.
For my contact information, I used the info linked to my bureau phone. If any problems arose, I'd simply use the power of the state to make it look like nothing ever happened. After all, the contest was related to our pretend family, and the boss had approved of it as part of our job with the bureau. Miss Hoshizaki would probably be thinking about how much hazard pay she'd be getting for working outside the office.
"Um, my name is Kurosu," said my neighbor.
"And you're the one behind Ochiba Kareki?"
"Yes, sir. That's right."
Incidentally, Kuga turned out to be more overbearing than we'd imagined. And to put it bluntly, he looked kind of scary. His short, spiky hair was dyed a bright color, and his suit was gaudy, with thick stripes. He wore an expensive-looking lustrous shirt and necktie, and his glasses were slightly tinted.
It all suited him perfectly, too. I found myself losing the mental battle already, and this was only our first meeting. I figured he probably wasn't, but he really looked like a yakuza.
"You're much more youthful than I thought you'd be," Kuga said with a little smile. "If I'm being honest, I'm kind of shocked."
My neighbor and Abaddon were optimistic about being scouted. Kuga, however, didn't seem to know quite how to deal with a minor. After all, plenty of VTubers were in their thirties and above.
"I apologize," I said. "I should have told you in advance about Kurosu's age."
"Nah, don't worry about it. We've got plenty of younger ones these days."
"Ngh…"
As Kuga spoke, my neighbor suddenly gave a start. She'd already been sitting up straight; now she was practically leaning over backward.
"Are you okay, Kurosu?" I asked.
"Y-yes. Don't mind me."
"Well, all right."
"Mr. Sasaki, Miss Kurosu, please, have a seat."
Prompted by Kuga, we settled back into our chairs. My neighbor and I sat next to each other, with Kuga seated across the table from us. Abaddon was floating behind my neighbor, as usual. The door was to my left, with a display screen to my right, and a whiteboard was facing me, behind Kuga. Next to the door was a clock; it was a little past ten AM.
Normally, my neighbor would be at school right now. Unfortunately, she'd had to take the day off. This company wasn't open on Saturdays, so we didn't have a choice.
That said, I'd done a little online research the day before and found out that children who worked as stage actors, voice actors, and the like often took days off school to attend work or lessons. They'd continue like that until they graduated middle school, when they'd typically transfer into a high school geared toward students involved in the performing arts. This had been news to me, and I was quite impressed.
"Is SC Industries a newcomer in the field?" asked Kuga as soon as we took our seats. The unfamiliar name probably had him worried.
It was time for self-introductions. It must be nice to belong to a big, famous corporation. You could just say the name of your company, and everything would fall into place. But I'd worked in smaller businesses for a long time and so was pretty used to this.
"I wouldn't say that, exactly."
"What do you mean?"
"May I first give a simple explanation?"
"Sure. Please go ahead."
"We are a proprietary company founded by a certain
entrepreneur as a funds management operation, so we don't conduct direct business with anyone. We have no plans to do so in the future, either."
Ms. Futarishizuka had told me I could do as I wished with the company, and that she could introduce me to a tax accountant and a judicial clerk, if needed. It must have been sitting dormant, gathering dust. We'd simply borrowed the name to create a business card.
"Kurosu here is a member of that entrepreneur's family. As you can see, she is still a child, so an agent was necessary to handle things for her. I am using this business card temporarily for that purpose."
Kuga's expression stiffened, and he quickly moved on to a follow-up question. "Based on what I saw in the videos, I imagine the 3D models and motion-capture equipment used cost quite a bit of money. The editing was very high-quality, too. I'd like to ask a little more about that, if I may."
His tone had become just a tad more polite. It felt as though he'd been looking down on us before, and now he viewed us as equals. He still seemed suspicious, however, as if he couldn't quite believe I was serious.
"Her parent purchased the equipment," I said. "Though she tells me she's been doing the editing herself."
"Really? By herself? She has a knack for it, despite her young age."
Apparently, Type Twelve was handling the editing for her, but we couldn't let any of that slip. As long as she had the laptop made by the mechanical life-form, she could work from anywhere, so for now we went with the story that my neighbor was doing it all on her own. I figured this would also improve Kuga's estimation of her.
"I hope this doesn't sound rude," he said, "but may I ask how you are related to Miss Kurosu?"
"Please consider me something akin to her manager."
My neighbor and I had decided all of this the night before. She, as well as Ms. Futarishizuka, had both agreed.
"May I ask you a question as well, Mr. Kuga?"
"Oh, y-yes. Please, ask me anything."
I had doubts of my own, and now it was time to clear them up. I figured I'd better get this out of the way sooner rather than later.
"It hasn't been two days since her videos became a topic of conversation. The views she's gotten are significant, but they must be a drop in the bucket compared to the talent you already have on board. I am surprised you approached her so quickly."
"As I'm sure you know, the rate people consume content has been accelerating in recent years. As a supplier of such content, we must keep our fingers on the pulse, or we'll quickly fall behind. As such, we place great importance on being proactive."
"Does your company believe Kurosu's videos will sell?"
"My decision to approach her was mine alone. So yes, I have great confidence in her work. That said, if she wants to aim for the very top, there's still a lot for her to learn."
I knew exactly what my neighbor wanted from this deal, and that was financial independence. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, and I wanted to make her wish come true. Because of her past, I felt sure her thirst for independence was much, much greater than that of a typical child of her age. Though it might not be real, I was part of a family now, and as her father figure, I had no issue respecting her wishes.
"Then, if you don't mind me asking, would your company be willing to look after her?"
"May I assume you have her parents' permission?"
"Of course. As I explained before, Kurosu's family approves of her activities. The equipment and 3D models were purchased and prepared not by me but by her family. As for the contract, it can be made under our company's name."
I hadn't told a single lie. We were here mainly thanks to the youngest daughter and the grandmother.
"Would it be possible for me to meet with her parents?"
"They are very busy and have asked me to act as the point of contact in this matter. If you require a letter of consent, I will have them submit one. And if you will need anything else, please tell me now."
I wasn't totally sure, but I got the feeling Futarishizuka was very rich, but that she wasn't the type to handle matters in person. If a meeting was required, we'd probably need a body double. If push came to shove, I figured we could handle matters using our gold bars from the otherworld.
"Have any other agencies contacted you?" asked Kuga.
"No, at least not that I've heard."
"How old is Miss Kurosu?"
"She'll be thirteen this year. She's a first-year in middle school."
"I see. She's even younger than I imagined…"
"Are people her age rare in the industry?"
"Well, our agency includes a few high school students."
As one might expect, middle schoolers weren't very common. It did seem rather perilous for a minor to be doing daily live streams over the internet. A lot of parents simply wouldn't allow it. And considering the enormous cost of assembling the equipment, the barrier to entry was extremely high for a child's hobby.
"Does she live in the Tokyo metropolitan area?"
"She usually lives in Karuizawa, as do I. She attends school there as well, though she visits the city frequently. There shouldn't be any issues, money-wise or time-wise, with her coming into the office."
"I—I see. I must apologize for asking you here on such short notice, then."
After that, Kuga had a few more minor questions. This part reminded me of a job interview for a new graduate. I answered most of the questions myself; I couldn't decide if that was a good or a bad decision. My neighbor was a taciturn girl, so I wound up pushing myself a little more than necessary. I hoped I hadn't offended her.
Once we'd examined the matter from all angles, Kuga nodded and straightened up. "Now that we've gotten everything ironed out, I believe I'd very much like to invite Miss Kurosu to work with us."
"Thank you. We're very grateful you were able to let us know your decision right away."
Kuga's response was what I'd expected; After all, if he didn't hire her now, some other company would swoop in before long. Then he'd have to contend with her as a competitor. Whether he was hoping to build her up, or simply to deny his rivals her talent, he had no choice but to hire her. This all went to show just how high-quality her work was.
"No thanks needed. Actually, I'd like to apologize for inviting you here and then acting so pompous. To be honest, I was hoping to get some intel on whatever new company had just entered the game."
"Yes, I did get that impression."
"And it certainly isn't unheard-of for someone to create high-quality 3D models like hers as a hobby. But the motion-capture quality is everything. You can tell just by watching a video how sophisticated someone's mo-cap equipment is."
"Indeed. I've heard that her equipment is quite impressive."
"Might I ask if she has her own studio?"
"She tells me she does her recording at home."
"I see. That's wonderful…"
As I'd long suspected, the mechanical life-form's super-science was completely unparalleled. Thanks to that, we'd convinced him she was the child of a wealthy family. If Type Twelve could hear this conversation, I bet her nose would start twitching in joy.
Eventually, our conversation reached a stopping point, and my neighbor spoke up. "Um. Thank you, sir. It's a pleasure to be working with you," she said with a bow.
"Oh, the pleasure is all ours, Miss Kurosu."
And so it was decided: My neighbor would make her pro debut as a VTuber.
After our meeting, Kuga accompanied us to the lobby. As soon as we left the conference room, a crowd of almost ten people appeared and began talking to Kuga. They included both men and women, mostly in their twenties and thirties. They were dressed more like college kids than like company employees.
"Hello there, Mr. Kuga!" "Lookin' real good in that suit, as usual, sir!" "Suits really do fit you well, don't they?" "Mr. Kuga! You look so cool today!" "Wait, what happened to your regular meeting?" "Oh, I've got something important to tell you!"
Everyone spoke casually; I wondered if that was because this was a start-up. Kuga was the only one in a suit. They looked more like coworkers than like a company director and his employees. I noticed that one or two of them spoke a little strangely.
Kuga greeted them all, then turned back to us. "Since everyone's here, why don't I introduce you?" he said, gesturing to the others. "From the right, there's Miss Reika Kihouin, Miss Jurina Himemiya, Miss Rolly Rolling, and Mr. Leon Yagami. They're hard workers, and they've been our biggest earners since before we went public. I'll introduce the rest of our talents some other time."
Kuga gestured to a few of the people in the group. Even I had heard of some of them. These people had debuted during the dawn of VTubing, right after 3D model-based entertainment started to get big. I got the feeling I'd seen them on TV before, on a New Year's special or something.
"And this is Miss Kareki. She's just joined up today."
I got the feeling he was being polite for our sakes—probably because of what I'd said about Kurosu's big shot family. I figured he'd do a ton of research on the company name on my business card that very night, or sometime soon—just as I'd looked into all the documentation for the locations Ms. Futarishizuka used to assist my otherworld trade back when I'd first met her. I doubted he'd come up with anything of interest, though. She was very thorough.
"Wait, what?! We have a new girl?!" "Ahhhn! Hello there!" "You look pretty young. Are you in high school? You couldn't be in middle school, right?" "Look how cute she is. Where did you even find her, Mr. Kuga?" "You mean I get to have an adorable little kouhai? That's marvelous!"
They all quickly greeted my neighbor, and she responded with a polite bow. "My name is Kareki. Pleased to meet you."
"Hey, they're your seniors in the industry, you know? Maybe you should try to be a little friendlier."
I knew what Abaddon was getting at, but this was just how my neighbor was. And that meant it was her manager's job to back her up.
"Kareki here is quite young, so I hope you can all watch out for her as she grows. If any problems occur here at the office, I can come right away to help, so please don't hesitate to contact me."
A moment later, the woman named Reika Kihouin spoke up. "Oh, Mr. Kuga. Who is this fine gentleman?"
She appeared to be in her midthirties. Her outfit was gaudy; she wore an extravagant, obviously expensive long coat, along with a short checkered skirt and a knit turtleneck. Her nails were painted with gel polish and glittered in the light. She looked like the daughter of a wealthy family.
"This is Mr. Sasaki, Miss Kareki's manager. He's not with the company, though, and I want you to be on your best behavior around him. As I've explained before, people from other companies wear a different lanyard, so you should always be able to tell."
"Oh, yes. I understand completely, darling."
Her speech style was so extreme, even someone from the otherworld would be able to tell. She was playing up the rich, well-bred girl persona with everything she had, appearance and all.
I wondered if she was putting on some kind of
performance. It seemed a bit risky to speak to someone like that on a first meeting, but that probably meant she had enough status in the company to get away with it.
"I hope you'll take good care of Kareki," I said to her, taking the lead and bowing. If I ruined Miss Reika Kihouin's impression of me now, it would damage my neighbor's position at the agency. She seemed to have some authority in the group, so I figured a little flattery couldn't hurt.
The others soon began voicing their doubts.
"Wait, she gets her own manager?" "I thought you said we didn't do that here." "Even we don't have exclusive managers." "Is this girl going to be a special case?" "Oh, I'd just love to have my very own manager. Even just for a day."
It seemed my presence was a problem. My neighbor was brand-new, and now she was getting special treatment. I supposed I could understand where they were coming from.
"I'll explain everything later, don't worry," said Kuga. "Just settle down for now. I told you it was rude to speak like that in front of guests, remember? This is a business, and we have to expect all kinds of people."
It was mainly the younger ones speaking up. Entertainers were usually associated with an agency, but they weren't the same as employees. It seemed reasonable that they would act a little different. As long as they were bringing in money, a few blunders could probably be overlooked, though if they stopped being successful, they'd soon be out the door.
Just imagining it sent a chill down my spine. I never wanted to give up the stability of regular employment. Maybe I should invite Mr. Akutsu out drinking some time—this weekend, perhaps. Actually, I got the feeling that would just rouse needless suspicion and cause him to pull away even further.
"Wait, Kareki, you had a personal interview with Mr. Kuga?" "Hold on. Kareki? You mean Ochiba Kareki, the one who's been making the rounds online since yesterday?" "Wait, for real?" "Ochiba Kareki's model is super high-quality, right?" "I thought for sure you belonged to another company!" "If it's okay, could I ask what kind of equipment you use for recording?"
The ones with a few more years under their belt were using this chance to speak to my neighbor instead. She seemed a little lost, overwhelmed by their attention.
"Miss Kareki, Mr. Sasaki, I'll send you an email tonight with more details about the contract and schedule."
"All right, I understand," I said. "Thank you very much."
After that, Kuga and the others saw us off, and we left the office behind.
(The Neighbor's POV)
Thanks to my neighbor's help, Ochiba Kareki is now a member of a major talent group.
That afternoon, after our meeting, an email arrives from someone at the company—not the director we met earlier, but someone doing managerial work. They explain what I need to do next.
Most of it is just paperwork—my employment contract and other formalities. When my neighbor sees Abaddon and me struggling with it, he swoops in and handles it all. Since we lack any corporate experience, a lot of it is beyond us, and he proves a huge help. All I do is set up a new social media account.
That gives me time to record and upload a new video that afternoon, just like I did yesterday. I'm following the email's instructions, which said to continue my current uploads as much as possible.
The next day, Ochiba Kareki is officially announced as a new member of the company. I suppose they're trying to strike while the iron is hot. Internet trends come and go in the blink of an eye, and Ochiba Kareki might well be at the highest instantaneous wind speed of her VTuber career right now. Lots of people debut with a major agency only to quickly lose momentum and disappear.
"Look! The number right here has another digit!"
"You sure do like numbers, Abaddon."
After the official announcement, my channel's subscriber count surpasses ten thousand. It seems big companies have a frightening amount of influence. The video I uploaded to go along with my debut now has close to one hundred thousand views.
The previous videos have gotten more views as well. All in all, I think I've managed close to three hundred thousand. At this point, I could very well win the contest.
"I mean, isn't that the best way to measure Kareki's popularity?"
"I'm surprised you know that."
"I borrowed your smartphone while you were asleep and studied up!"
"I'm still near the bottom of the company's rankings, though."
"Just goes to show how much you humans have multiplied in the last hundred or so years."
The company I now belong to is the best in the industry. It employs over a hundred talents, and even the worst performers have tens of thousands of subscribers. From what I hear, even casual live streams regularly get over ten thousand views. It's going to take more than a bit of exposure to approach their level.
There are comments from the haters, too.
"Joining an agency? What timing. I bet they set the whole thing up." "Yeah, I knew there had to be more people behind all this." "It was I who raised the Ochiba Kareki girlie, you know." "But in that case, why didn't she get more views on her earlier videos?" "Ugh, I've lost interest. I only support indies."
They can say what they want. Almost a hundred comments have been posted to the video already. At this point, their abuse is just white noise.
"Hey, check out this person. Doesn't their user icon look familiar?"
"Isn't that the character the landlady is using for her video game streaming channel?"
"Yeah! That's the one!"
It seems even Futarishizuka commented. "Wow, huge congrats! You've got Shizu's full support! Are you ever gonna do a live stream?"
"Are you gonna do a live stream?"
"I didn't have any plans to."
Thanks to the younger sister's help, editing my videos takes zero effort. In effect, the mechanical life-form's super-science means that, while live streams might be easier for the rest of society, the opposite is true for me.
Above all, my introvert nature makes me resistant to talking to an audience for an extended period of time. And I'd have to check everything in advance to avoid leaking any personal information. Plus, I have school on weekdays and pretend family time after that. I can write scripts during class, so it makes more sense to maintain the quality of my videos that way.
Two days later, the company asks me to record a video alongside some other group members at a studio in Tokyo.
Among the participants, I see a few names I recognize from my trip to the office the other day. When I look them up on the internet, I can tell they're famous in the industry. I compare our number of subscribers; their count has two more digits than mine. They must be some of the top VTubers in Japan.
It seems like this recording was already planned, and they're bringing me in as a last-minute addition. My neighbor thinks they're trying to use it to promote Ochiba Kareki, and that it's a sign they have a lot of faith in my success. For that reason, I agree to take part. It'll get me out of the classroom and all its chaotic interpersonal relationships, too—two birds with one stone.
As always, we use the mechanical life-form's saucer-shaped terminal to get to the office. It brings us to the right neighborhood in Tokyo, and we head through the throngs of suit-wearing office workers toward our destination. The building doesn't look like anything special from the outside; there are plenty of others just like it nearby. But apparently, this one contains a recording studio.
As we stand there, in front of our destination, my neighbor glances at his wristwatch and says, "I'm sorry. It looks like we arrived a little early."
"Don't worry about it," I reply immediately.
That's right—my neighbor is with us once again. I told him Abaddon and I would be fine on our own, but he insisted that it would look bad to send a minor here by herself and asked to come with us. Of course, I'd rather spend as much time with him as possible. I give him an apologetic look, but on the inside, I'm filled with joy.
"I read online yesterday that as a rule, newcomers should arrive about thirty minutes early to this kind of job," I explain. "I don't know if that applies to this specific industry, but getting here early shouldn't pose any problems."
"Then, if you don't mind, why don't we spend the extra time at a nearby café?"
"Huh? Really?"
The idea of going with my neighbor to a café makes my heart leap. This has never happened before.
But just as the thought crosses my mind, he vanishes.
It's not just him, either; every passerby around us and every car on the street disappears, too. All the endless city sounds fall silent.
We're in an isolated space.
"Reveal thyself, Abaddon."
"You got it, partner!"
Fortunately, my neighbor wasn't caught up in this.
Abaddon's body, floating next to me, begins to transform at my command. His flesh expands from within, splitting his skin apart. His short, boyish figure is swallowed up in an instant. This metamorphosis shocked me the first time I saw it, but I'm used to it now. I barely even notice the meat juices dripping off him and onto the ground.
"I think I detected something from over there. Just for a moment, though." Abaddon, now a hunk of flesh, turns to look in a specific direction. Or at least, I think that pointy area is his front. I, too, felt the presence of an angel's Disciple from over there, though it disappeared right away.
"If this was a coincidental encounter, we can't take the initiative and attack."
"We're concealing ourselves, too. Should we wait and see what happens?"
"Yes, I think so."
The best scenario would be for the isolated space to collapse without incident. Plenty of cars and trains run through this area; it's very possible a Disciple traveling through the city suddenly came within range of us.
We wait around for a little while, but my neighbor never reappears. And I can't sense the angel or their Disciple at all.
"Considering we just got out of the mechanical life-form's terminal, I doubt they were tailing us," I say. "If they were lying in wait, that means someone at the company is involved in the proxy war."
"Not a pleasant notion. And just when you found a way to earn some money, too."
"Yes. So I would like to identify them if possible."
There's also a chance that a third party, aware of our movements, has approached us—just like the mess that happened when Robot Girl transferred into my school. It's easy to envision a different group or organization—separate from the one my neighbor negotiated with—coming to attack us.
"If they provoke us, we're free to fight back. But I don't want to kill their Disciple if we can avoid it, so aim for the angel as much as you can. Our first priority is learning who they are."
Gotcha!"
We hurry toward our destination, then head into a tiny alley between the studio building and the one beside it. We hide in the shadows, watching for movement.
"If they really are with the company, they should approach the studio building. That's our chance. I believe in you, Abaddon. I know you can pull this off."
"You got it. I agree wholeheartedly!"
After our little strategy meeting, we focus on the area around us for a while. Eventually, two people appear in front of the building. I can see them across the road, hiding between two buildings in a space so narrow, it can hardly be called a street. One of them has wings protruding from her back; even from a distance, I can tell she's an angel.
In fact, I recognize both her and the Disciple.
"Well, hey, now. They look familiar, don't they?"
"You noticed, too?"
I believe the Disciple's name is Himegami, and his angel is called Eriel. They picked a fight with my neighbor and the others once and were beaten to a pulp. Ever since, we've been using this pathetic pair as spies for our side. Back when the big sea monster appeared in the Pacific Ocean, we even asked for their help creating an isolated space. But what are they doing in a place like this?
"Did you hear anything about this from my neighbor or the others?" I ask Abaddon. "I just want to be sure."
"Nope, nuh-uh."
"Then our plan doesn't change."
It appears they still haven't noticed us. After taking careful stock of their surroundings, they seem to come to a decision and burst out onto the road, speeding toward the studio building. The Disciple must not be able to fly yet; the angel is carrying him in her arms like he's a princess.
They shoot through the building's front entrance in a matter of seconds. It's time to make our move.
"Let's go, Abaddon."
"Right-o!"
We follow, rushing out of the alley—and end up face-to-face with them the moment we set foot inside.
"Wha…? Wait, uh, what the heck are you two doing here?!" exclaims the Disciple. His angel stands in front of him, ready to defend him at a moment's notice.
"I could ask you the same thing," I say.
"You're not here to…finish the job, are you? Uh, just so you know, we haven't done anything to harm you! In fact, the angel group kind of kicked us out, and we haven't been in any death games since then, and—"
"Then let me ask you this. Are you and that angel the only ones here?"
"Uh, yeah! No one else!"
"You'll regret lying to us."
"I'm telling the truth! So please, stop that disturbing demon of yours!" The boy looks like he's about to burst into tears. His gaze flicks back and forth between me and the hunk of flesh floating to my side. He's right; the sight of that fleshy membrane, glossy with unknown fluid as it pulses irregularly, is quite menacing.
"Then what are you doing here?" I ask. "It's a weekday. I can't believe we'd run into each other here, of all places, unless you knew where I'd be."
"Well, I, er…"
"Nothing good will come from keeping secrets."
"Ngh…!"
Uh-oh, this might be a problem. It feels really good using violence to intimidate him. No wonder bullying never goes away. If I got used to it, this feeling would totally ruin me.
"What is it?" I demand again. "Confess."
"…Fine. All right," he says, resigned. "I have a job here today. So I took off school to come."
"..."
What is that supposed to mean? Could this Disciple be the same as us? He did run inside the studio building as fast as his feet could carry him. I saw it.
If he planned to escape the isolated space by hiding himself at his destination and waiting it out, then his actions make sense. He could always be lying, but it would be a clumsy lie. It wouldn't stand up to our questions.
"Doctor Nakada, Kuon J. Glen, Doradragon." I start listing the male participants for today's recording session listed in the email.
The Disciple looks shocked. "Hey, wait just a minute! You… No, you can't be…"
"I apologize for being selfish," I say, "but would you pull out of today's session? With two Disciples from opposite factions in one place, this isolated space will never disappear."
"You wouldn't happen to be…Ochiba Kareki, would you?"
He must already be acquainted with the other participants, because he only needed one guess to figure out who I am.
"If you tell a single soul, we will chase you to the ends of the earth and remove you from the proxy war by force."
"I… I won't say a word! I'll keep it a secret, I swear!"
I'm certain now. This Disciple is a VTuber, too. And he belongs to a famous agency, at that. The three names I listed all have hundreds of thousands of subscribers—practically gods to someone like Ochiba Kareki.
"I promise not to tell," he continues. "So, uh… Would you maybe, um, let me have this recording day?"
"Why should I?"
"I've worked so hard to get here. Ever since I entered high school, I've been doing everything I can, and a big agency finally approached me. Now, after three years, they've started calling me a mainstay of their lineup. I can't cancel at the last minute! It'll ruin my image at the company!"
"Is your image worth your life?"
"Mgh…"
I feel guilty, of course. But this is part of the proxy war. It definitely isn't because I'm feeling good about a bunch of people on the internet fawning over me. I'm nothing like that buggy mechanical life-form.
Yes, this is fundraising—a necessary means of securing money to help me survive the death game.
"…Okay, fine. I'll go home," he says. "Is that what you want?"
"I'm glad we understand each other."
The Disciple sounds deeply disappointed. He must sincerely want to attend the recording.
His angel sees this and speaks up, sounding apologetic. "I am so sorry, Master. My weakness is to blame for all of this."
"No, it's not your fault, Eriel. Don't blame yourself. The real problem is humans like me and her—smugly basking in the attention of online strangers. We're despicable, trampling all over the efforts of others who have put in so much work."
"Don't lump me in with you, please," I correct him.
"Hmm… If you ask me, there's not much difference."
"Whose side are you on, Abaddon?"
Well, things could be worse; at least no one's started asking questions about who's funding me. If a third party destroyed my relationship with Futarishizuka or my neighbor right now, we'd be in deep trouble. In particular, I'd like to avoid having to publicly disavow my connection to our current landlady. I think Abaddon considered that, too, and deliberately interrupted us with his banter.
"When I surpass you one day, I promise to do everything I can to promote you," I tell Himegami.
"Are you saying that's already set in stone? Sorry for being blunt, but was this all rigged in your favor from the start?"
"I will leave that to your imagination." I can't afford to tell anyone about the mechanical life-form's super-science, so I decide to respond ambiguously. "In any case, I'm glad to have acquired a convenient senpai like you."
"Please, have mercy…"
"I'm sorry, Master," says his angel. "This frustrates me, too. I feel we must retaliate somehow."
She's still standing in front of her Disciple, facing us as if ready to fight. The way she uses her small frame to shield him, combined with her adorable face, make this whole scene quite heartwarming. Her hands are curled into tight fists, as if she might start punching at any moment. She's clearly a loyal servant.
Don't attack them," Himegami protests. "We can't afford to mess up here. Okay, Eriel? Understand?"
"There is no need to worry, Master. I would never do anything that would expose you to danger."
"I know. And I'm really happy you're so frustrated on my behalf."
"M-Master…"
I watch as they gaze at each other. It seems like, one way or another, participating in the death game has strengthened their bond.
Now that we're on the same page, it doesn't take long for the isolated space to collapse. Sound returns to the world.
According to my neighbor, the two of them have managed to survive this long despite their weakness because global authority figures know we're using them as spies. In that case, I hope they can accept a little bit of coercion as the price for their continued survival.
With the Tokyo recording studio right before our eyes, an isolated space appeared—a fact I only learned from my neighbor after everything was resolved. I understood on a logical level that what occurred inside the space was reverted when it collapsed, but having been outside this time, I found myself doubting that anything had happened.
My neighbor told me that she'd encountered the Disciple Himegami and his angel Eriel inside the space. In a surprising turn of events, Himegami was also a VTuber invited here for today's recording. Obviously, when they got near each other, it triggered the start of a death game. However, she'd convinced him to go home without it coming to blows.
I couldn't help but feel bad for the two of them, given their position. But this was part of the angel-demon proxy war, so there was nothing I could do.
We'd gone to a nearby café and were enjoying some tea as my neighbor explained the situation. Abaddon did more than half of the talking; my neighbor was even quieter than usual. The tea was delicious, especially considering it was an independently run place we'd chosen on the spot without looking up any reviews.
Eventually, we headed back toward our destination. The studio was much bigger than any I'd seen before. The recording space was about the size of a school classroom, and cameras were positioned all around it. Several large screens hanging on the walls stood out to me. The actors probably used them to keep an eye on their 3D models as they performed.
The adjoining control room was full of audio mixers and other equipment covered in knobs and buttons. Staff members were already standing around inside, busily operating the devices. They could see into the recording space through a glass window at the front of the room.
Both areas had a single door leading out into a hall with chairs, tables, and vending machines. I imagined the hall was used as a kind of break room. We stood outside the recording area, waiting for things to begin.
"What?! Kuon isn't coming?" "He says he's sick. Apparently, he was almost here when he suddenly threw up." "Is he gonna record his part separately?" "But this goes live tomorrow! He won't have time." "What's gonna happen with the script?" "Will they delay it?" "They say they're checking with the higher-ups, and we should wait for now."
Nearby, I could see staff members with grave expressions, probably due to Himegami's absence.
"I suggested three names in front of him," said my neighbor, "and it seems he was the biggest one."
"He was the one with the most subscribers when we looked them up on your smartphone earlier, right?"
"That's right."
We stood in one corner of the break area, feigning ignorance. But to be honest, I felt a pang of guilt. My neighbor and Abaddon were keeping conversation to a minimum; when we did talk, we did so in low tones so that nobody would get suspicious.
A short while later, the talents began to arrive, filling up the studio. It was getting crowded; people were standing all over, some eventually forming small groups and starting to chat. Several sat down around the table in the middle of the hall and began to make light conversation. I'd met a few of them at the talent agency office. They must have been the VTubers—the stars of today's recording. The staff members were fussing over them, too. We watched it all from a distance, still chatting casually in our corner.
Eventually, the performers seated at the table moved; two of them got up and walked over to us.
"Good morning, Miss Kareki. I'm looking forward to working with you today."
"Yep. Mornin'. Can't wait to work together!"
They were both people we'd met at the office. The first one to speak was Reika Kihouin. She was wearing another gaudy outfit today: a long, pure-white coat covered in soft fluff over a jet-black dress. In her hand, she carried a bag made by a famous brand.
The second was Rolly Rolling. She looked about the same age as Kihouin but wore an archetypical gothic lolita outfit: a blouse with lots of black and frills. I could tell she was putting in a lot of effort. Perhaps her unique style of speech was part of her character image.
Ms. Kihouin's last name was highly unusual for a Japanese person, and Ms. Rolling was definitely not foreign, so I had to assume Mr. Kuga had given us their stage names—the names of the 3D models they used to perform.
"Good morning to you both." My neighbor bowed politely as she greeted them. Standing next to her, I followed suit.
Miss Kihouin instantly spoke up. "My, my, Miss Kareki, I thought this on our previous meeting, as well, but you're a very fashionable person."
"You think so?"
"Why, you're wearing designer brands from head to toe! But the outfit is subdued enough that someone who didn't know their stuff might not realize it. Take your shoes—they're a new style that just came out this winter, are they not?"
According to my neighbor, her clothes had all come from Ms. Futarishizuka. Her closet had been filled up when she moved in. If my colleague had prepared my neighbor's wardrobe, just as she had Lady Elsa's, then it was likely everything was top-class. And it seemed that had piqued this woman's interest.
"Sorry to disappoint you, but my family picked all this out for me."
"Oh, yes, I heard from Mr. Kuga. You're still a first-year in middle school, aren't you, darling? You have no idea how envious I am that your family is so comfortable."
It seemed Ms. Kihouin was the candid type. And as always, she was totally in character.
Ms. Rolling, on the other hand, showed a little more consideration. "Come onnn, Kiho. Be polite. I knowwwMr. Kuga told us all kinds of things about her, but we've barely talked to her yet. You can't just start chatting about this or that without any warning. You'll bother herrr."
"But aren't you interested in her family?"
"I'm really sorry, Karekiii. She's not a bad personnn, it's just…"
"No, I apologize for not being very talkative."
Rolling was always smiling and seemed like a good person. That said, she was perfectly in character herself. Her words and gestures were just as exaggerated as her gothic lolita outfit. She sounded like a little kid—like if Ms. Futarishizuka used that joke tone of hers and then never turned it off. I wondered if Rolling spent all her time acting like this.
Incidentally, this was the first time I'd ever seen my neighbor cringe away from a stranger.
"But aren't you interested, Rolling? Her family evidently hired her manager, too. Even people of our level don't get exclusive managers. I wonder just how wealthy they are."
"Looook," said Rolling, turning to my neighbor, "you don't have to say anything if you don't want to, okaaay?"
"I'm sorry. I don't actually know that much about my family's affairs."
As my neighbor conversed with her senpai, Abaddon and I watched and listened.
A short time later, a staff member walked over to us. He was a man in his prime, several years older than I was, and seemed twice as hurried as everyone else in the hall. I assumed he was the one in charge today. He went straight to my neighbor, gave a short bow, then spoke to her.
"Can I have a moment, Miss Kareki?"
"Oh, um, yes, sir. What is it?"
"I know this is sudden, but I was wondering if you'd like to stand in for Kuon, since he'll be absent. We gave him a call, and he suggested you for the role."
"Huh…?"
"No need to worry about the script—it's already written."
My neighbor gaped at the suggestion. The other two talents looked at her, equally shocked. "But I probably can't use his script as is," my neighbor pointed out.
"We can get it fixed up for you in a jiffy. Will you do it? This is a good opportunity for you, since you just debuted. It's Kuon you're standing in for, after all. You'll have way more things to say, too." The staff member gave her an affable smile. They must have been desperate to fill the unexpected vacancy—especially if this instruction was coming from management. "What do you think, as her manager?" he asked, turning to me.
"I'd like to honor her decision."
All eyes shifted to my neighbor. She thought for a few moments, then nodded. "All right. I'll do it, sir. Thank you."
"No, thank you. Okay, everyone, let's start retooling the script for Miss Kareki!"
At the man's command, the rest of the staff got to work.
work.
(The Neighbor's POV)
We start recording at the studio. I end up standing in front of a microphone in place of the Disciple we drove off—Himegami, was it? At first, I was only supposed to be participating as a guest, but they rewrite the script to make me a main member.
Either the staff is really good at writing scripts, or Ochiba Kareki is a good fit to replace this Kuon character. Whatever the case, they're able to adjust some lines, and we began recording.
"Ohhhh-ho-ho-ho-ho-ho! What luck, drawing such a good item! Then again, I would expect nothing less from someone of my caliber! Now, who's driving in front of me? Oh, Rolling? Yes, just stay right there. Perfect."
"No! No no nooo! Don't shoot! You're not allowed to use the red ones behind meee!"
"Oh, sorry. My shell is going for Kihouin…"
"Hwaaahhh?!"
In order, that was Kihouin, Rolling, Kareki, and then Kihouin again.
Kihouin's 3D model is a rich-girl character with a distinct, high-pitched laugh and an appearance to match. She wears an extravagant dress, her hair falls in big, silver sausage curls, and she has dramatically large breasts. I assume the character is supposed to be around twenty years old.
Rolling, on the other hand, is playing a little girl who looks like she could be in elementary school. She appears European, with long blond hair and blue eyes. She's wearing gothic lolita clothes, mostly black, including a frilly one-piece dress. Now I'm sure their strange speech and behavior is an extension of their characters.
As you might guess from our chatter, we're currently playing a video game. It's a new one that just got released, in which a certain company's various characters ride in go-karts around a looping racetrack. Several people can race against one another at once, and today's script involves us all duking it out.
I remember playing this game at my classmate's house during the welcome parties they threw for Robot Girl and the other magical girl, so I already know how to work the controls. Otherwise, I probably would have caused a lot of trouble for the other participants.
There are ten people taking part, including myself. About a third are top earners, while the rest are newcomers who only recently debuted. This event seems to be the company's way of promoting the latter group—particularly the ones who are having a hard time getting ahead. At least, that's what I heard from my neighbor. I figure that's probably why they asked Ochiba Kareki along.
"Kareki, darling, are you sure you're paying the proper respect to your senpai?"
"I'm sorry. I promise I wasn't aiming for you."
"And yet just before, you tossed a banana right in front of me. You aimed very carefully, and I slipped on it. I won't forget about that! At least not for the next six months!"
"Actually, I just threw that at random. Oh, not again. I'm sorry, I—"
"Haaahhhhn! That explosive—I've been bombed! Nooo!"
The attack items I launch seem to be hitting Kihouin an awful lot. I'm really not aiming for her, though. Her character is known for her comedic overreactions, and it seems like a lot of work for her to keep putting on a show for the viewers. But the staff members are really good at supporting us, so I probably don't need to worry too much.
Eventually, the recording reaches the halfway point, and we take a break.
We head out of the recording booth and into the break area. The two popular girls sit down near the center of the room and relax, while the newcomers stand off to the side in their own group, like prey trembling under the gaze of terrifying predators.
I follow suit, making myself small in the corner. My neighbor must have gone outside; I don't see him around.
After a few moments, Kihouin gets up and walks over to me. "Do you have a moment, Miss Kareki?"
"Sure. What is it?"
"I was just surprised at how calm you are, despite your recent debut."
"You think?"
"This is your first time recording, isn't it? Most people would be at least a little bit nervous."
She's right—I'm not nervous. It doesn't feel very different from when I played the same video game at my classmate's house. In fact, it's a lot more pleasant, since Robot Girl isn't with us.
But I know why I'm so calm. I think about the wicked demon hovering next to me, even now. My experiences with him, fighting in the death game, have toughened me up mentally. If I fail here—well, it's not like I'll die. Of course, if I make enemies of influential people, that might be the death of my career in this industry. Abaddon came into the booth during recording, too, floating close enough that I could reach out and touch him.
"You clearly stand out from the other second-strings."
"..."
I look over at the other participants.
When Kihouin says "second-strings," that's no metaphor. The company I've joined divides its talents clearly into two ranks. The favorites and top earners are the first-strings, and the others are second-strings. Naturally, as a newcomer, I'm a second-string, and Kihouin is a first-string.
She and her ilk are sitting down and chatting, while my group is standing around watching them. I was trying to make myself small like a second-string should, but apparently, I hadn't convinced Kihouin.
"Oh, I do hope you're not getting full of yourself just because your family has money."
"I wasn't…"
Is this what I think it is? Is my senpai picking on me? Maybe she simply wants revenge for how many attack items I hit her with in the video game.
"I hate to even suggest this, but could Kuon's absence today have been…purposeful?"
This woman's pretty sharp, I think. We ordered the angel and her Disciple to stay silent, threatening them with punishment if they divulged our identity to anyone else. I doubt they'd ever tell her the truth. And if she suspects us purely on instinct, then she has to be obsessed.
"Don't you think that's going a little far?" I reply.
"Winterfest, perhaps? Is that what you're after?"
Every year, this company holds two major events: one in summer, and one in winter. After our meeting with Kuga, I went fishing around on the internet and read an article about how they went in previous years. The attendees apparently number in the hundreds of thousands.
I figured that was what she was talking about. But why would she bring it up now?
"Winterfest?" I asked. "What do you mean?"
"Oh, no need to play dumb, darling. Second-strings like you require a certain number of votes in the advance poll to participate at all. I believe you may have used your influence to pull some strings. It's possible you even have Mr. Kuga on your side."
"..."
Oh, I think. Is that how it works?
Kihouin continues to speak at length, evidently taking my silence as affirmation. "I'd rather not be forced to go along with a rich girl's idle amusements. This is our job. We work hard to provide our fans with hopes and dreams. And I can guarantee you the others will be just as annoyed."
I'm pretty sure what she's really after is status, money, and fame. It might not be true of everyone, but even a kid like me knows there are plenty of people in the world whose only goal is to squeeze money out of the socially vulnerable.
Compared to them, my neighbor is amazing. He is "content" meant only for me, and I am meant only for him. Together, the two of us alone complete the cycle of production and consumption. We couldn't be a more perfect couple. I need nothing and no one else.
"Excuse me, but are you finished?" I ask.
"See? You're doing it again."
"…I apologize."
What does she want from me?
Should I suck the life from her with the demonic power Abaddon gave me? A little bit won't kill her. I'm sure of that based on how many times I did it to my late mother. She only felt a little woozy.
Then again, I'd be causing trouble for the staff.
Just as I begin to think about it, Rolling—unable to ignore her colleague's behavior—calls out to us. "Don't bully her, Kihooo. You're being meannn."
"Bully? Why, I'm doing no such thing. I'm simply expounding on the proper mindset for a talent—from one senpai to her kouhai. These things are best done early, are they not?"
"Nooo, you were definitely bullying herrr! I've been watching the whole tiiime!"
Compared to the brusque Kihouin, Rolling is kind and caring. It's a little scary, having her talk to me while she's dressed as a little girl. But as I watch her start to huff in her gothic lolita outfit, I think that maybe she's a good person at heart.
"Thank you, Miss Rolling," I say. "But you don't need to worry about me."
"Are you suuure? Reeeally sure? If there's ever anything bothering you, you can come straight to meee."
"That's very considerate of you. Thank you."
A short while later, our break ends, and we all return to the recording booth. No particular issues arise after that, though a bunch of the items I use hit Kihouin, and I'm sure she hates me now.
Recording takes the entire day, with a break for lunch in the middle. During the break, I go to a nearby restaurant with my neighbor. That alone is enough to make the whole thing worth it. The other second-string members all invite one another to lunch, but no one asks me. They clearly want nothing to do with me.
We film the final cut just as the sun is setting. Words of thanks and appreciation echo through the studio. A staff member leads us out of the recording booth and into the break area, where I see a few people around that weren't there during the day. One of them is familiar to me: Kuga, the company's director. What's more, he's talking to my neighbor. The two of them notice me and walk over.
"Good work today, Miss Kareki," says my neighbor.
"I really have to thank you for agreeing to do this on such short notice," Kuga adds.
Naturally, the others turn to look at us, and the first-string members quickly speak up.
"Mr. Kugaaa! We did really good today, toooo!" "Good day at work, huh, Mr. Kuga?" "Might you have been watching us perform?" "I can't believe you came all the way to the studio! I'm pumped!" "Do you still have work after this?"
Kihouin and Rolling are both part of the group. Everyone gathers around Kuga. It's probably a great chance for them to promote themselves.
Kuga deftly handles all of them, then turns back to us. "Do you know about Winterfest, Miss Kareki? Our company puts it on every year."
"Huh? Oh, um, yes, sir. Actually, Miss Kihouin told me about it…"
"I explained the details to Mr. Sasaki already. If you're willing, you can be part of the big poll. It might be tough for you to pull through, but with your current momentum, you may just have a chance to get in."
"The viewers vote for who they want to participate, right?"
"Yes. Mr. Sasaki here already gave me his seal of approval, so it's up to you."
"You'd be in front of people, right? Are you sure about that?"
Abaddon's question is reasonable.
My neighbor immediately gives me more information. "If it turns out that you can participate, you won't have to show your face publicly, so don't worry about that. While you would go to the event venue, you'd essentially be doing the same thing you do online. Do I have that right, Mr. Kuga?"
"Yes—though I doubt it would pose any problem if someone like Miss Kareki were to show her face."
Incidentally, I'm beginning to feel a lot of pressure weighing down on me. The source is the collective gaze of the other talents, especially Kihouin and Rolling. It's not just the first-string members, either—the second-strings are paying close attention, too. I can see a few scowls. They probably don't appreciate some random little kid being pampered by the boss.
That said, I can't refuse simply out of consideration for them.
"I think I understand," I tell Kuga. "And, um, yes. I'd like to take part, if possible."
For now, Ochiba Kareki's new goal will be to achieve victory in the Winterfest poll.