9. The Strange Senior "Convenience Store, Straw Thief...?"
Han Seol received a total of 760,000 won in donations and immediately consulted Shin Jiyeon.
"...Seol-ah, no emails or anything like that? Or any weird vibes...?"
"Nothing like that. He just kept donating, asking what I was going to do next..."
"That nickname alone screams total creep..."
Shin Jiyeon had never heard of anyone donating like that to a small-time hakko streamer she'd only just discovered, so she couldn't make sense of it. The nickname suggested one of those toxic types who harass streamers, but it didn't quite fit.
"Just be careful for now, Seol-ah. The nickname's sketchy, the sudden donations are weird—something's off."
"...Okay."
"Especially if he tries private contact like email, block him right away! Got it? The most important thing between viewer and streamer is distance."
"Got it."
Han Seol nodded to herself, even though she was alone. It was that scary.
Kindness was nice. But affection from an unknown source was more than enough to spark terror.
Han Seol vowed to herself. The moment she decided he was bad news, per Shin Jiyeon's advice, she'd block him.
Yeah, she'd vowed it.
But her resolve soon proved empty.
He showed up for every stream, without fail.
He started guiding her through every little detail she'd overlooked.
The stream wasn't affected.
Rie. ConvenienceStoreStrawThief.
With only two viewers.
At first, she was definitely scared. What if he did something weird? What if he was a bad guy like her sister warned?
But soon she realized she was wrong.
He'd even created a bulletin board for her stream and pointed out every issue with solutions.
That became her routine. Following the viewer's patient explanations of her mistakes.
Pure goodwill. Han Seol hadn't believed it existed, but she shook her head.
She couldn't deny it—not with Shin Jiyeon as a precedent.
So she accepted it. This bizarre connection.
From then on, streaming became enjoyable. Now she had someone to talk to, instead of just the wall.
A kind of trust. The belief that whenever she went live, that person would be there.
And he always lived up to it.
It was new. Someone following along with everything she did.
Songs she'd sung alone in karaoke.
Horror games she'd never touched.
ConvenienceStoreStrawThief donated 10,000 won! Keep going!
ConvenienceStoreStrawThief donated 10,000 won! Fighting!
ConvenienceStoreStrawThief donated 10,000 won! That prof's a jerk!
Even when she vented about her tough real life and feeling down.
Viewership stayed at two, but that didn't matter to Han Seol anymore. What mattered was that it was always those two. Never alone, this person always by her side.
That certainty was the most valuable thing to her.
But time with just the two of them was shorter than expected.
As Han Seol fixed her flaws and expanded her content, ignoring her forever was impossible.
Viewers started trickling in.
Oh, 23 today...
A laughable number to some, but two digits were enough to tense her up again.
More people meant more exposure to malice.
Not everyone spammed weird chats, but Han Seol wasn't seasoned enough to brush it off.
Already pointed at in real life, viewer hate terrified her even more.
Even so.
Someone affirmed her.
Someone needed her.
Han Seol couldn't quit streaming.
"I see..."
That was what her sister meant.
That was when she realized.
"I have... a fan too..."
Someone all her own.
From then on, she started seeing him as special, unconsciously.
Her first fan, after all.
Maybe that's why she forgot Shin Jiyeon's warning about viewer distance and sent a private email.
Expecting a reply. Thrilled at the thought of him liking it.
But no response came.
He only connected with her within the stream—nothing beyond, as if that was proper.
That left Han Seol with worries. How to get closer to my fan?
But she was a college student. She couldn't stream forever.
Group... project...?
The word blanked her mind. One of her most hated assignments.
For someone with zero connections at uni, group projects were punishment.
What to do? She slammed her head on the desk, clenching her fists—then a low voice rumbled.
"Hey."
Lifting her head, she saw the senior next to her. Famous one. Academically, socially, looks-wise.
But she didn't care. Reality held no interest.
Just moments ago, she'd been a gloomy girl obsessing over viewer closeness.
She stared, puzzled why he approached.
"Yeah?"
Was he after her number? Some might call it princess syndrome, but it was routine terror for her.
"Got a team yet?"
"No."
"Join us then. We have an open spot."
"..."
His question was miles from what she'd expected. She flushed briefly, but it was good news. No other options anyway.
She nodded.
"Cool, I'll tell the others."
To her, Suhyeon Yoo was just another rolling stone. No different from other guys.
But the group project revealed he was unusual.
Once, during role assignment.
"Seol-ah, you do the presentation."
Kim Minji, the leader, said it. Han Seol grimaced.
Anything but presenting...
People scared her. Always pointing, glaring with malice.
She didn't want to stand before them.
"I-I don't think..."
"Why?"
Kim Minji's sharp gaze pierced her. Han Seol shrugged.
Kim Minji had presence. But presenting? No way.
"Pr-Presenting won't work."
"...What?"
"I can do anything else."
"...Seol-ah, you said in the group chat any role's fine."
"Th-That was..."
Mistake. Her oversight, not thinking of presenting.
Her fault, clearly.
"Anything but presenting."
More back-and-forth, but Kim Minji wouldn't yield to Han Seol's stubbornness. To the principle-driven leader, it was just a tantrum.
"Hey, Han Seol, roles are set—what're you gonna do?"
No comeback. Trembling in inevitable reality, head down, biting her lip.
"Hey, I'll talk her into it, so ease up. Let's pick a topic."
That low voice again in her ear.
Lifting her head, Suhyeon Yoo was soothing Kim Minji.
Caught off-guard, she panicked.
Suhyeon succeeded in calming her and extended a hand.
"Let's go."
"...?"
Where? Trying to look good? Just another stone after all.
She scowled.
Suhyeon ignored it, pointing at the door.
"C'mon. We need to talk too."
Excuses to make a move on me. Sighing at the familiar setup, she followed.
But what she got was:
"Go on now. You hate those meetings, right?"
A senior with a "seen enough" look.
He'd gotten her out of the drinking session she'd forgotten amid Kim Minji's scolding.
Not dumb, she caught on quick.
He waved her off like she was a hassle.
Stunned by the unfamiliar attitude, she bowed.
From then, Han Seol thought Suhyeon might be different.
Like sharing her VTuber interest, getting excited together. Suddenly handing throat candy. Encouraging during presentations. Saving her from scary people.
Incidents piled up, and she realized:
With him, maybe a normal senior-junior thing is possible.
Her first normal relationship.
With him, no love—just that.
With that hopeful expectation, back to routine, she refocused on streaming.
She reopened her fan's first email.
VTuber Academy
If he approved, she'd do anything.
So she'd try.
But.
"...?"
What's with that senior. Why's he smiling at me so much.
. . . . . .
"So, what do you think, sis?"
"He's one hundred percent into you. Totally."
Looks like a normal senior-junior thing is off the table.