Vol 1 Chapter 9 – Resolve

On the way home from the ward office to Michiru-san’s house, I stopped to shop for dinner. Tonight’s meal was apparently beef stew. Yet another dish I didn’t know.

She did it deliberately. She was prioritizing dishes I didn’t know so she could teach me.

I arrived home…

“I’m home!”

Though no one else was there, Michiru-san called out.

I’d been told to come home quietly. If I even said “I’m home,” I’d get a complaint.

“What’s wrong, Rin-kun?”

Michiru-san peered at my face and asked.

I wondered if I could even say it. But it would probably be okay.

“I’m home…”

Only a small voice came out. But given how long I’d barely made a sound, it felt loud.

“Yes! Welcome home, Rin-kun!”

It really was okay. Instead of complaining, Michiru-san greeted my “I’m home” with a huge smile.

After that, I helped Michiru-san prepare dinner.

Partway through, I said:

“Michiru-san… I want to earn money, but I don’t know how.”

There are only two things I get praised for: my appearance and my voice. But both are inappropriate for someone my age, and I’ve suffered because of it.

People definitely assume I’m a child. Because of that, I can’t work at a regular company. There are probably other reasons too. It seems I’ve never properly grown up.

“Hmm…”

She said that, looking lost in thought. So I waited for her answer.

“Do you know what entertainers do?”

They’re the ones who sparkle on TV. But that’s not really the point.

“I might not really get it.”

So I had no answer beyond that.

“They turn their lives into their livelihood, using their appearance and talking skills as weapons to fight their way up… Actually, VTubers are no different. I live off my life, my voice, my personality. My personality in particular—and my modeling skills—are my weapons. That’s how I live. If character designs ever overlap, it’s war, you know?”

Her answer was blood-soaked, even though not a drop of real blood was spilled.

I couldn’t imagine gentle Michiru-san waging war. But surely something had escalated into a war at some point.

Michiru-san is a “mama-type VTuber” in two ways. First, she spoils her viewers like they’re her own children. Second, she’s a modeler.

Her work streams are called “birth slots.” They’re the streams where she models new VTuber avatars. Because it doubles as promotion, many VTubers have been “born” from Michi Mama’s streams.

“But why bring that up?”

I felt like she was indicating that VTubing could be a path for me.

“Rin-kun, do you have the resolve to use your own life to make money?”

Michiru-san stared straight at me.

She crouched down, met my eye line, and held my gaze firmly.

It was as if she were testing my resolve.

“I’ll do it!”

Still, if I could repay even a bit of Michiru-san’s kindness, I’d do anything. I’d even been prepared to do erotic things. That’s why I considered trying Mama-katsu. If I could summon that level of resolve, then this should be nothing.

“All right, then, Mama will build your body for you.”

Whether I have any talent is uncertain. But Michiru-san must have believed I could do it; that’s why she brought it up.

“But can I really do it?”

Still, weak as I was, I couldn’t help but ask for reassurance.

“There’s quite a demand for stories about ill-fated boys finding happiness. We’ll turn that into our selling point. You quitting?”

Michiru-san was already back to cooking.

I wondered if I was really so unfortunate to be called an ill-fated boy. It was embarrassing. I felt like I was putting on an act, playing the tragic hero.

“I’ll do it!”

But my answer didn’t change. If it could earn money, I’d sell it however many times necessary.

“I see… got it.”

I was earnest. I’m not sure if she grasped that. But Michiru-san didn’t ask me again if I wanted to stop.

“But I’m sorry for relying on you for everything.”

I can’t even model—I’ve never done it. And I have a feeling my first steps as a VTuber won’t go well.

“Honestly, from the very start I thought if I made you a VTuber, you’d sell well. As we worked on you, I kept thinking that. Did you despise me?”

As she said that, Michiru-san wore a wry smile.

“No way. You never told me until now… I thought you were too good of a person, so I’m a bit relieved.”

A love that’s too selfless is scary. I feel calmer knowing there’s at least a hint of selfishness.

But when had Michiru-san planned to tell me this…?

“All right, dinner, dinner!”

With the beef stew ready, I lost the chance to ask.

But the beef stew was just delicious. And talking with Michiru-san was fun. My list of favorite foods saw its second-place slot change again.