Once the incident with me forgetting to turn off the stream was over, I gave Suzuki-san a call back to apologize. Even though my computer issues had been what had kicked everything off, it was entirely my responsibility for having exposed my shameful conduct to the public. If she told me to take a break from streaming, I would understand. I was prepared to correct the wretchedness of the old drunk inside me. I was actually ready to stop drinking StroZero entirely—even though it now ranked alongside blood and water in importance to my survival.
However, the answer waiting for me was the opposite of what I’d expected.
“Oh, well,” Suzuki-san said, “I’d certainly like you to never forget to end your stream again, but drinking is absolutely fine.”
“Huh? Wait. Why is it absolutely fine? You know what I did, don’t you?! This was a huge blunder! It goes way beyond ruining my character! We’re basically talking about Gandhi turning into the king of blood-splattering, flesh-scattering street fights here!”
“Well, given who you are, Yuki-san, that was well within the company’s expectations...”
“Huh?” I repeated. What was she even talking about? The company? Sure, people said most of Live-On’s streamers marched to the beat of their own drums—with some even calling it a hangout or hot pot for some real crazy types—but that incident was “well within expectations”?
“Actually, during your interview when we were recruiting for the third gen, you were nothing like your character,” Suzuki-san replied. “Don’t you remember?”
“What?! What do you mean? Did I do something terrible during the interview?!”
“Huh? You really don’t remember? You landed with such an impact that ever since then, it’s been very strange to see you act so normally...”
But it’s been three whole months since the interview! Why are you only bringing this up now?!
“And I thought for sure,” continued my manager, “that you were acting so wholesome precisely to overturn everyone’s expectations later down the road.”
“I wasn’t!”
“But to me, you’re just as chaotic as Yujiro Hanma and Heihachi Edajima.”
“Great...” I remembered literally zero of what I’d done during my interview, since I’d been so nervous, but to be compared to insane shonen manga characters like that, I must have really done something...
But at the same time, I finally had my answer to a mystery that had been plaguing me ever since I’d joined Live-On—of why I’d been selected at all. Those Live-On jerks only picked me because I was a terrible danger to myself and others and they thought it was funny!
“I, er... I’m just surprised you’d pick such an obvious time bomb...” I managed to reply.
“We actually had to put a lot of time and thought into it, you know. But our selection standards here at Live-On state that streamers must be people who can really shine. And we felt that from you, Yuki-san.”
“I don’t feel like I’m shining. I feel like I’m covered in nasty mud-water.”
“Oh, you’re shining. Your character—Awayuki Kokorone—is the center of attention now. The shock was a bit much, true, and we are seeing a few critical comments here and there, but it hasn’t escalated into flaming.”
That did surprise me, actually. To tell the truth, after all that, I’d done a fearful little search on myself on the Internet. While there was plenty of teasing and making fun, there was a surprising lack of remarks that could be taken as slander. In fact, most people were excited to see my next stream—even if it was mostly a joke for some.
“That means that regardless of what you’re really like,” Suzuki-san went on, “a lot of people are watching you now—because you interest and attract them.”
“Is that...right?”
“Otherwise, they wouldn’t be waiting for your next stream, would they? I’ll be sure to watch all of your streams from now on, and if you ever really go too far, I’ll stop you. So why not try coming out of your shell for once?”
“My shell...”
“I promise it’ll turn out well. And besides, you’re already past the point of no return, aren’t you? If you went back to your pure, seiso character for your next stream, the level of weirdness for everyone watching would pierce the heavens.”
“Urk!” Really hitting me where it hurts...
Our phone call ended after that, with Suzuki-san saying she had to get back to work.
But then... “Eep?!” Not one minute after that call ended did my ringtone go off again. And the one calling...was Hikari-chan.
Oh, great, I thought. This is so awkward. But I can’t just ignore her... Okay. You can do this. “H-Hello?”
“Oh! Good morning, Awayuki-chan! And congratulations! You’re the talk of the whole world! Number one! I never knew you were such a fun person normally! Hearing you act so naturally actually made me start having fun too!”
“Ah, aha ha...”
Hikari-chan congratulated me with the same super-energetic tone she always used. And she was probably sincere too—not just someone trying to be excited for a newcomer. I could tell as much because we’d known each other since our debut. She really wasn’t any different when she streamed from when she wasn’t. She was always bright and optimistic.
Wait. Didn’t that make her, in virtually all respects, my polar opposite?
“A-Also, I was curious about something!” she added.
“Huh? What is it?”
“Well, I got curious earlier and watched the clips from the stream.”
“Uh-huh.” Of course people had clipped it, LOL.
“When you were watching my stream, you said you were really hard. I didn’t know what it meant, so I asked my manager!”
“What.”
“And she told me it meant you were saying I was really, really charming!”
What the hell was Hikari-chan’s manager doing to her?! Having too much fun at her expense, I bet! She must have been smirking when she’d told her that!
“Oh, you! It made me blush. Eheh heh!” she continued. “Let’s collab again soon, okay? Bye-bye!” And with that, after leaving a storm roiling within my heart, Hikari-chan left.