“Let’s see here… Oh, there’s even an explainer website,” said Ms. Futarishizuka.
“Huh?!”
“What is Currently Enrolled High School Girl’s Dance Class?” Ms. Futarishizuka abruptly began to read the text on her screen. “A channel where a self-professed ‘currently enrolled’ high school girl dresses up and dances. Several videos were made by clipping only the sexiest parts, giving way to a spat between the uploader and—”
“Stop! Quit reading that! Please!”
The internet was a terrifying place indeed. Videos like that, made without permission from the rights holder, probably weren’t very profitable. Who would make one, and why?
“Perhaps someone from the same line of work is jealous of your youth, hmm?”
“Uh… Yeah, I didn’t even think of that!”
Ms. Futarishizuka’s comment reminded me of the sinister side of such websites. I found myself convinced—that had to be it.
“You could have just asked the youngest daughter,” she continued. “She’d have fixed it right up.”
“I couldn’t! It’s too embarrassing!”
“Miss Hoshizaki, people are on the verge of figuring out your address from the layout of your room,” I pointed out. “You may want to deal with this sooner rather than later. Someone on this site is investigating the scenery outside your window from the body-length mirror in the videos.”
“What?!”
I showed her the explainer site on my phone. She looked at it, and her face went pale.
She wasn’t the only person at that address—her younger sister lived with her. The idea that this issue could affect her family had her terrified. Now even her motherly pride began to buckle.
“Mother, I ask that you rely on your youngest daughter for this.”
“I’m sorry. Erm, I know I’m a failure of a mom. But would you mind helping me out anyway?”
“Acknowledged. I am deleting all relevant videos across the internet. In addition, I am wiping all websites and social media posts on this topic. Going forward, I will make periodic rounds to ensure similar data does not reappear on the network.”
“I’m really sorry about this. It’s so dumb.”
“If you’re truly sorry, then no more making videos in sexy outfits, understand?”
“Rgh…”
“Grandmother, Mother is sufficiently repentant. Do not press her any further.”
And thus the link between Miss Hoshizaki and Type Twelve continued to grow. For the time being, our senior would doubtless feel even more indebted to the youngest daughter. At this rate, would we ever be able to convince the mechanical life-form to return to her home planet?
“Ah, so that’s why you had such a sour face while watching us cosplay today,” added Ms. Futarishizuka.
“……”
Miss Hoshizaki fell completely silent. Even her expression went blank.
Unable to keep watching their exchange, I decided to move on with the results. “Anyway, let’s keep going. Does anyone have less than one million views?”
I decided to go ahead and add a whole digit; that was about where my neighbor and Abaddon were at. Judging from Type Twelve’s composed demeanor, she probably had a comfortable lead. I felt certain my neighbor would come in third.
And, as expected, she raised her hand. Abaddon joined her.
“Ochiba Kareki’s channel falls under that amount, mister.”
“The view count was around ninety-three hundred thousand when we checked earlier this evening, right?”
No other hands went up.
Ms. Futarishizuka immediately snapped at me. “You? A million views?”
“Nobody else raised their hand, so my neighbor and Abaddon take third place. I believe we all know what they’ve been up to, so we can skip over looking at their channel.”
“Hey! Stop ignoring me!”
“Moving on. Is anyone under two million views?” I asked, looking around the room. No response. “It seems the answer is no. Anyone under three million views?”
“Father, the youngest daughter falls within that threshold.”
Type Twelve’s hand went up, and everyone’s attention shifted to her. It seemed they were all just as curious about her videos as Ms. Futarishizuka was about mine.
“Three million views in two weeks? Those are better numbers than most pros. I’ve been watching the rankings for the last two weeks. I didn’t see any newcomers like that! What did you do? And where did you do it?”
“Grandmother, please watch this and confirm.”
At that, several midair displays appeared around us. All of them showed different channels on the video submission site. Judging by their names and thumbnails, they were all individual uploaders streaming original music videos.
What made me curious were the languages of each page. Aside from Japanese and English, I saw German, French, Chinese, Russian, and Arabic. There were even a few I didn’t recognize. Each of the channels had anywhere from a few thousand to a hundred thousand subscribers, and the view counts were what you’d expect based on those numbers.
Going by the view counts on individual videos, my neighbor had her beat in a few cases. But add them all together, and the total was enormous. I could imagine it might come out to around three million.
“Are these channels all yours, girl?” asked Ms. Futarishizuka.
“Grandmother, your assumption is correct.”
Type Twelve played one of the videos with a relatively high view count. The sound was trendy and current, and the visuals were gorgeous. The video quality was on par with a professional production. The song, too, was on the level of tie-in songs for famous TV shows and expensive advertisements. With a little more time, their popularity would have only continued to skyrocket.
“Relying on numbers to do your work for you, eh?” remarked Ms. Futarishizuka. “Don’t you think that’s cowardly?”
“Grandmother, my strategy is not prohibited by the rules we determined beforehand.”
She’d certainly done more work than any human would have been capable of in the same time frame. But the quality of her videos was by no means out of this world. It would be impossible to use her channels to deduce the existence of mechanical life-forms, and she hadn’t broken any rules.
“The youngest daughter communicated at the outset that she, too, wished to spread her wings throughout the world as a YouTuber. I judged that gaining a small amount of adoration from a large swath of humanity was a safe approach in regard to both efficiency and risk management.”
“And it worked. Man, that’s so frustrating.”
“I wouldn’t have expected any less from Type Twelve,” I added.
Everyone seemed impressed by her video. Contrary to our reactions, however, Type Twelve’s next remarks were somewhat sad.
“However, for whatever reason, I feel rather empty.”.
“What do you mean, girl?”
“While the many adoring comments have certainly warmed my heart, I cannot help but feel as though joining the family onstage yesterday soothed my heart even more.”
She must have been thinking of Ochiba Kareki’s collaboration with the Masked Sailor and the Demonic Middle Manager. Type Twelve had helped my neighbor and Abaddon during the production.
“The pleasure derived from creating something alongside one’s family is very special indeed.”
Type Twelve’s face was an impassive mask as she spoke, but her voice held a tinge of sentimentality. None of us were sure how to react.
Silence reigned for a few moments.
Eventually, Ms. Futarishizuka spoke up. “Well, of course it is.”
“Grandmother, how can you state that so definitively?”
“Making these videos wasn’t enough to stir your heart, was it? It doesn’t matter how many humans you get to listen to you, I’m sure it’s no different from feeding the koi in someone else’s pond. How much can that truly soothe your soul?”
“……”
The grandmother wasn’t mincing words, and the youngest daughter fell silent. She must have hit the nail on the head.
I expected that any mechanical life-form, with their crazy-advanced super-science, was capable of producing a couple hundred music videos in only a few minutes. I was afraid to ask, though. What if it hadn’t even taken her that long?
“So? How do you feel?” pressed Ms. Futarishizuka.
“I am reminded of Father’s words.”
“Oh, really?”
“He told me that the information one gathers is not the important part. Instead, it is the process, the environment, and the points of contact or terminals involved in communication that truly matter. The content of my conversations at school and the comments I received on my videos might be the same, but the difference in process has produced a very different response.”
“A father’s words are mighty indeed.”
“Father has proven fitting for his role.”
“Please don’t make too much of me,” I said. “I’m not sure how to feel about it.”
“So?” said Ms. Futarishizuka, turning her attention to me. “What video has the high-and-mighty father uploaded that racked up so many views?”
Her firm stare was practically begging for me to divulge my secret. I hadn’t intended to string her along, but I also hadn’t intended to get first place in the contest. It was by no means a calculated result.