Once they were inside, Ms. Futarishizuka spoke up with a proposal. “Why don’t we all go out for dinner tonight as a family? We’re already in town. We can have a nice little look around the city from a taxi, then splurge a bit on a good restaurant.”
“Oh!” said Lady Elsa. “So that’s why you said we wouldn’t need to prepare dinner tonight.”
“Yes, we have been making the two of you do all the work for a while now.” Ms. Futarishizuka seemed to have the same things on her mind as Peeps. She shifted her gaze to my shoulder. “Though I assure you, it was not my intention to agree with the sparrow there.”
“I should say the same, whelp.”
We took a vote and unanimously decided to eat out.
“Excellent,” said Ms. Futarishizuka. “Now, since all the participants in the view-count contest are present, why don’t we unveil the results? It will make for great dinner conversation. We don’t need to make a big show out of it or anything, of course.”
“Huh?” said Miss Hoshizaki. She seemed surprised at the casual suggestion. Everyone turned their attention to her.
“What is it?” asked Ms. Futarishizuka. “You have an objection?”
“Mother, I am seeing an increase in your heart rate. Does something concern you?” asked Type Twelve.
“I, uh… No! No, it’s nothing.”
“Well then, boys and girls, without further ado, it’s time to reveal the results of the contest!” Ms. Futarishizuka thrust her index finger toward the ceiling.
We settled in to hear the results. Lady Elsa and Prince Lewis were sitting on the edge of the bed with Miss Hoshizaki in the desk chair. I, Ms. Futarishizuka, and my neighbor remained standing near the bed. Abaddon, as always, floated in the air next to my neighbor.
“I’m fine with that,” I said. “But do you know whose accounts are whose? I don’t think anyone has figured out Miss Hoshizaki’s or Type Twelve’s yet.”
“We’ll be self-reporting, obviously! First of all, anyone with under ten thousand views, raise your hand!”
The room fell silent at Ms. Futarishizuka’s instruction. No one moved.
“What? Nobody?” she murmured.
“It would appear that way,” I said.
“I thought for sure you would be under a thousand.”
“I’m not surprised you would think that.”
Until just a few days ago, I had been. Getting ten thousand views had been a pipe dream, and I’d said as such during our family gatherings. I wondered if the others were suspicious, too.
“Well, all right,” said Ms. Futarishizuka. “Next up, anyone under thirty thousand.” She looked around the room, gauging everyone’s reactions.
But once again, nobody raised a hand.
Her gaze turned to me right away. “Are you taking this self-reporting thing seriously? You’re not lying, are you?”
“Trust me, your concerns are quite reasonable, but I do indeed have over thirty thousand.”
“If we count them up and find that you were fibbing, you’ll be subject to a penalty.”
“I assure you that won’t be necessary. Let’s continue.”
“Fine. Anyone under fifty thousand?”
Nobody moved. I didn’t, either.
Once again, Ms. Futarishizuka fixed me with a reproachful stare. “Really? Are you serious? You passed fifty thousand?”
“We’ll be revealing our accounts when we learn our placement, right?” I returned. “In that case, I ask that you wait until then to pass judgment. If it looks like my views are lacking, you may levy any punishment on me you wish.”
“Rgh…” She looked at me as if she wanted to say more. The reason became clear along with her next announcement.
“Fine. Next, anyone under one hundred thousand!” As soon as she’d said this, she immediately and energetically raised her own hand. “Me! Me, me!”
Nobody but her had their hand in the air.
“Wait, seriously?” asked Miss Hoshizaki, shocked. “Futarishizuka came in last?”
“How about you, my esteemed senior? Did you really get over one hundred thousand views?”
“I tallied them up so many times, I can’t possibly be wrong.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding… Shizu’s Gaming Dojo got last place…,” muttered Ms. Futarishizuka weakly, looking aghast.
Her meek attitude seemed very out of character. She was usually so nonchalant and easygoing; it was rare to see her disheartened. Contrary to my expectations, it seemed she’d been taking this pretty seriously.
“Could you not make it so obvious that you expected us all to lose?” said Miss Hoshizaki.
“Come on, I thought I had it in the bag! I never even dreamed you, or this guy, would beat me. I thought I’d make streaming games my life’s work for a while!” Ms. Futarishizuka said bitterly.
Our senior clearly thought this was in no way her problem. “Hey, nobody’s saying you have to stop. If you like it, then keep doing it.”
“Well, let’s take a look at Ms. Futarishizuka’s channel, shall we?” I suggested.
The hotel room contained a wall-mounted TV, so I turned it on and fiddled around with the remote. I’d already confirmed that we could use it to view the video submission site; once I had it open, I searched for Shizu’s Gaming Dojo and called it up on the screen.
She’d uploaded several more let’s-play videos since the last time we’d checked. I added up the view counts from top to bottom. She was right—there were a little under a hundred thousand in total.
“Your self-reporting was correct,” I said. “It looks like you have a total of ninety thousand and change.”
“My first stream went off, but ever since, I’ve been struggling to get views,” she explained. “I should have brought out every big title I could get my old hands on. Ultimately, it’s the title that draws in fans. The gameplay itself doesn’t matter.”
“Hey, don’t be so discouraged,” I told her. The results had come as such a shock that she’d started sulking, so I took over the announcements. “Now, let’s see anyone with one hundred fifty thousand or less.” I looked around at those present.
That was when Miss Hoshizaki’s hand went up. “Me. I got a little over one hundred thirty thousand.”
“Ah, so you’re up next,” I said.
“Do we, er, really have to show our accounts?”
“Of course you do, girl,” chided Ms. Futarishizuka. “You waited until after I was out of the running. You didn’t inflate your view count just to dodge the last place penalty, did you? I’d rather you stick to inflating your age.”
“I did no such thing!”
“Then what’s the problem? Hmm?”
“Please bring up your channel, Miss Hoshizaki.” I offered her the remote.
She seemed to resign herself and pushed a few buttons. Soon, the screen showed a channel called Currently Enrolled High School Girl’s Dance Class.
“Sheesh. Talk about an embarrassing name for a channel,” remarked Ms. Futarishizuka.
“Sh-shut up! Who cares?”
“And your thumbnails look rather obscene, wouldn’t you say?”
“Rgh…”
What piqued my curiosity was the text introducing her channel. Right up front were line after line of warnings forbidding reproduction and clipping. The wording was quite firm, even threatening legal action on a case-by-case basis. Weren’t introductions supposed to be a little, well, friendlier?
We had her play one of her uploaded videos, just to see. It began by showing Miss Hoshizaki dancing along to a recently popular song. She’d even gone to the trouble of assembling an outfit to wear; she’d clearly put a lot of effort into this. Her face was hidden behind a mask, but her youthful energy was on full display.
Suddenly curious, I searched the name of her channel. The results answered all my questions.
“I see you’ve incited a bit of criticism online, Miss Hoshizaki,” I pointed out.
“Ngh!” Her shoulders went up and she cringed. Very conspicuous. She seemed to be aware of the situation. “It’s… It wasn’t my fault! Someone cut up my videos and re-uploaded a compilation of clips that emphasized all the, um, sexier parts! Now the whole internet is bullying me. I keep taking down the re-uploads, but they keep cropping back up…”
That was apparently the reason for her interest in DMCA complaints. The kind of anonymous malice you encountered online was difficult to handle for a teenager with limited experience. I understood; once when I was still in school, I’d browsed a porn site and gotten a computer virus.
“But to put it bluntly,” said Ms. Futarishizuka, “you lured them in using that very appeal, didn’t you?”
“No! I was just, um, dancing! I wasn’t thinking about that stuff. I didn’t mean to upload lewd videos or anything. It’s just, well, there are always people who, uh, will view you that way, so…”
Your eyes are wandering, I thought. It was easy to imagine her doing a little dance and getting a bunch of views, then letting the success get to her head and going overboard. She knew what the viewers were there for, but kept telling herself she wasn’t playing up to them.