I'm Gonna Become a J-Pop Gosu!
The pain from having my cheeks yanked hadn't even faded, and I was blinking back and forth between the translator screen and the email body. Even knowing it wasn't a dream—thanks to the throbbing—I was still completely dumbfounded.
I'm gonna become a VTuber GOSU! I muttered deliriously to myself as I skimmed clips of the virtual group, then started playing back the songs I'd recreated.
Honestly, my tracks were pretty rough compared to the originals—free software had its limits. And yet, this skyrocketing upstart group wanted them.
"20%... 20%..."
Truth be told, 20% didn't sound like much at first. But considering the massive gap in our scales, it felt like a fortune. Plus, they'd said multiple members would share the songs.
Not just goofing off with one track, but different members belting out farewells or departures. It was basically forming a business tie. Sounded like they were betting on my growth potential, just like the email implied.
"Mmmuuuuh."
Warning lights were flashing for 17-year-old high schooler Lee Haru. Anything legal like this needed a guardian involved at minimum. NewTube monetization required parents too.
"I absolutely can't decide this alone."
Even if I hit accept and a contract came, I couldn't even parse the Japanese, let alone review it. As a minor, licensing deals were straight-up impossible for me.
It was close to a contract based on my potential—a value bet on my future. ...Or maybe they wanted to turn me into a VTuber?
"Heheng."
I pictured myself as a pink, fluffy Mingu Nano idol VTuber, but reality's heavy weight yanked me right out of the fantasy. Daydreams were fun, but this poisoned chalice—or whatever it was—had me deep in turmoil.
"Haa..."
I flopped face-down on the desk, clutching my head. It hurt worse than studying. Still, this was definitely an opportunity.
If I nailed this deal, the HALU channel had a shot at unprecedented explosive growth. Sure, it'd grow anyway without it, but the speed gap could be huge.
...Round and round, ends up with Dad after all.
Game industry meant he knew subculture inside out—even drove an itasha without shame. I rolled around agonizing over it for hours until the front door lock beeped. No studying, just tumbling till Dad's commute ended.
My half-baked conclusion—to tell Dad—was forming right as he showed up. Talk about impeccable timing. I hauled my limp body up and shuffled to the living room, running simulations on how to explain while opening the door.
"Dad's home! How'd our girl do on her exams..."
"Dad, over here—quick."
He came in with his usual sloppy, good-guy smile, but right now, he was exactly who I needed. Mom must've been out grocery shopping—perfect window. I grabbed his arm, dragged him to my room, shoved him into the computer chair, and jabbed at the monitor.
"Yeah, yeah... what's going on?"
"Um... just read this first."
The screen showed the Japanese email and its translated version side by side, same as before. Dad squinted and shoved his face close to the monitor.
He skipped the translation and dove straight into the original. Art director for a reason—he read the Japanese effortlessly. Directors pick up all sorts of skills, even in art. And as a subculture nut, he probably knew it cold anyway.
"Virtual Group Sora, huh... Their parent company's big in Japan for VR stuff. We collabed once when execs were hyped on VR..."
"Dad, you know them well?"
"Yep. Outsourced to virtual firms for Japan exports, so yeah. Even met them at events a few times."
Dad leaned back against the chair, arms crossed. A crack from his back—must've been grinding dance practice with the head director lately. Internet was flooded with composites of him and his mystery boss, Shin or Kim or whoever.
Licensing and NewTube monetization meant Dad finding out about my channel was inevitable anyway. I fired up NewTube Studio to show the metrics; his eyes lit up with interest.
"Haru, I'll handle monetization. But industry-wise, 20% on cover licenses is generous for a total newbie like you. If you had tens of millions of subs, sure, but for a rookie? Super sweet. They'll remix it, add anime MVs—they're the ones taking the L."
Dad as expected. A quick scan, and he nailed the bits I'd vaguely thought were "looks good?"
"Then... just accept?"
"Nope. Absolutely not."
Mixed signals messing with me. Calls it decent, then shuts it down hard—suddenly feels fishy.
"First off, that 20% revenue bit. You might think it's straight from NewTube ads, but it's not specified—gotta clarify. The email says they'll use the full tracks for a 20% split. Could interpret that as ongoing 20% on anything you upload later."
"Hieeek..."
"Big corp like the parent, low odds. But 'ifs' exist—nail it down. One-shot deal or renewable? If they drop an album off your originals, revenue split how?"
Brick-wall lecture, but pure concern for me. Spotted the massive revenue ambiguity in one go. Total opposite of his usual airhead self getting owned by Mom.
Today I'd fancied myself a perfect-score, IQ-200 super-genius J-pop maestro Lee Haru. So arrogant.
"Then... what do I do?"
I gazed up at him all mopey; he clutched his chest, pondered a sec, then answered. Back to his usual face, he ruffled my hair and kept going. Mind made up already.
"First... I'll hit up the parent company direct. Got contacts from the collab—way smoother than verbal deals with randos we both know."
"Yeeah..."
"Good girl... study hard now. VTuber dreams? I'll scout gear."
Dad left the room, and I stared back at the email onscreen. Kinda shocked—the shiny plan had holes. Huge group made it unlikely, but 'ifs,' y'know.
But unlike my past life's memories, having parents who jumped in legally and practically? Priceless.
Tens of thousands of virtual NewTubers crooning my Fun Function, Departures, Farewell Declarations—cash flowing to my account. NewTube vids max ads at 10+ minutes.
Songs were short, so maybe not mega-bucks, but promo value plus revenue? Sweet.
I stood from the chair, stretched lightly. A quick routine, and the bed-rolling tension melted away. Now, 17-year-old Lee Haru duty: crush tomorrow's exams easy.
"Huu... Status window, come out!"
No window popped, sadly. But I felt like this world's protagonist. Dopamine buzzing, I dove into tomorrow's subjects. My two weakest? Laughable now.