Oh, but I am.
“H-How can you be so heartless?!” she asked. “Do you understand what’s at stake? At this rate, she might even end up leaving Live-On!”
“Yes, I understand that,” I said.
“Then why would you...?” She paused. “I see. You don’t like her, do you? Sure, her imagination can be a little overactive, and sometimes you just want to punt her like the brat she is, but unlike me, she’s actually a good girl at heart! For all her anti behavior, she’s never once hurt anyone! And, and, and, you know! This world is so cynical, so broken—she is exactly the kind of girl we need to be spotlighting! And remember? Remember when I said Japan’s pension eligibility age would be raised to 120 one day?”
I chuckled, maybe a little condescendingly. “Yes, yes. I know. No, I don’t hate her. In fact, I rather want to get to know her.”
“Then why would you suggest something so—?”
“Because. There’s nothing we can do for her.”
“Huh?”
“Follow my logic for a second. Say we indulge Tadasu-chan’s wishes and reform Live-On into something clean. Well, she just ruined a good thing for a lot of people. I doubt her conscience would take that lightly. Then what about if we simply placate her with kind words and convince her to stay? I’m all for kicking the can down the road every now and then, but when it’s something that means this much to her? We’d be doing her a real disservice. I don’t know about you, but if we put off the problem only for it to harm Tadasu-chan even more, I’d be very upset with myself.”
Sensei’s voice remained silent, so I continued.
“This is a deeply personal struggle for Tadasu-chan. She’s looking inward, trying to figure herself out—grow. That’s not a journey we can go on with her. The best thing we can do is, in fact, nothing. And by doing nothing, I mean continuing to be exactly what we are—Live-On. Perhaps even more so than before. We stand firm and say, ‘This is who we are, this is what Live-On represents!’ And when Tadasu-chan reaches her own conclusion, we accept it—whatever it is—with grace. I believe that is the greatest support we can offer her right now.”
Another brief moment of silence followed before Sensei’s voice finally reemerged. “You’re right,” she said weakly. “You’re completely right. Sorry, I...don’t know why I lost my temper.”
“Okay! Now that Tadasu-chan’s matter has been settled, let’s move on!”
“To?” Sensei shot back quizzically.
“To your matter, Churiri-sensei!”
“M-My matter?”
“Yes. You.” I clapped my hands together decisively. “What do you want to do, Sensei?”
“Me? Um, leave her alone and just watch, like you said.”
“Yes, like I said. That was my opinion. I want to hear yours.”
“Oh...”
When I posed my sudden question, Sensei fell silent for a spell. It was then that I realized that, just as Tadasu-chan had turned to Hareru-senpai for advice, Sensei was now relying on me.
“I mean, I agree with you,” Sensei finally said.
“Sure. You can agree, disagree, whatever. But let’s move on from my opinion already,” I said. “I want to hear what you want to do. You, Sensei. You.”
“Uh...”
This was going nowhere. I could just see the gears grinding to a halt in her head. Let’s see, how can I explain this...?
“Earlier, when you talked about Hareru-senpai, I sensed a hint of frustration,” I said. “It makes me think you’ve already formed an idea of how you want to handle this situation.”
“I... I don’t think so,” she replied. “The situation’s so stressful, of course I’d sound frustrated.”
“Yeah, and that’s valid. But what I’m really getting at is you. This whole situation is just as much about you as it is about Tadasu-chan, isn’t it?”
Sensei fell silent.
“Albeit for different reasons, you’re both trying to answer the same question: ‘Who am I?’”
“Y-You can’t be serious, lumping me in with that sac of hormones... Self-discovery is all well and good if you’re eighteen, but I’m sensei-aged—teacher-aged!”
“Sometimes society beats our identities out of us. Why do you think you so readily agreed to my rational suggestion earlier?”
“Um, maybe because it was rational?”
I took a second to consider her words. “You know, if there’s one thing I’ve learned after being a streamer for this long, it’s the fact that people are anything but rational. In today’s society, words like ‘rational,’ ‘optimal,’ and ‘efficient’ are thrown around a lot. They’re treated like virtues we should all aspire to. Hell, we even expect our kids these days to think logically. Sure, from a productivity standpoint, those ideas have their merits. But we are so much more than that, aren’t we? If productivity were everything, why do so many people watch us—love us—when we’re the furthest thing from ‘productive’?”
Sensei fell silent again. Then, a heartbeat or two later: “All right. You’ve made your point. Thanks.” Then she said, “But wow, who knew you had it in you?”
“Had what?” I asked.
“The ability to give, you know, actual constructive advice, like a senpai.”
“You take that back.”
“Can you blame me? You’re younger, and, well, you’re you. I half expected you to hand me two cans of StroZero and call it a day.”
“No way!” I protested. “Tadasu-chan’s underage.”
Sensei chuckled. “I think I’m starting to understand why people respect you now. Anyways, I’m just glad you’re not the type to mock someone when they’re in a vulnerable place. Thanks for listening.”
“Eh, it’s nothing,” I mumbled, suddenly bashful. “It’s all secondhand advice from Hareru-senpai anyway.”
“And you’re a tsundere.”
“Nuh-uh! Nope! You of all people don’t get to call me that!”
With that, the call ended—abruptly, as it had begun. Now all that was left was to wait, patiently, until each of the girls came to her own conclusion.
“But... Huh.”
I locked my phone and set it gently on the table. Leaning all the way back in my chair, I exhaled, long and slow. After a few still moments, I reached up, extending my hand above my head, fingers splayed, and gazed at them as if the answer might lie in the spaces between.
“She’s right,” I murmured into the silence that now filled the room. “Who knew?”