Exactly the Same Mistake as Three Years Ago

Just like three years ago, I closed the DM window but couldn't get up from my chair. 'The walk to the convenience store near my place.' 'The sign that's especially bright at night.' Whether Sohwa knew that was about my neighborhood and wrote it on purpose, or if it was a coincidence, I couldn't tell. But either way, the result was the same. Now that I'd received this DM, I had to respond.

'Where do you live, Sohwa?' The moment I asked that first, I'd already lost a move. Sohwa would dodge answering, throw the question back at me, and if I evaded, she'd turn that silence into certainty. She'd already thrown it back. 'Where do you live, Han-cut?'

It took me a long time to type my reply.

I read that last sentence three times. Sohwa was pushing back now, flipping the frame to 'You're the sensitive one,' packaging my defensiveness as her being in the normal range. It was the exact structure an editor uses to provoke viewer reactions. Throw out bait, and when the viewer bites, hit back with 'What did I even say?' to embarrass them, while reinforcing the bait in the process. Sohwa hadn't learned this from anywhere. It was internalized naturally from repeatedly watching my edits.

I accepted that fact. Accepting it wasn't hard. What was terrifying was that even after accepting it, I still had no way out of this conversation.

It was a lie. No freelance editor has reason to be sensitive about locations. But I judged Sohwa wouldn't catch it. Or even if she did, she'd let it slide. She was enjoying my defenses ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠right now.

The DM window closed. I leaned back in my chair, then stood and went out to the balcony. I looked down at the neighborhood from there. Six streetlights. One convenience store sign. No one passing by on the roads at 2 a.m. Whether Sohwa was somewhere in this view or not, I had no way to check.

The next afternoon, I skipped my usual neighborhood cafe. Went to a different convenience store, one far from the workshop. Bought four energy drinks and came back. That was my only defense. Changing my routes. I'd done the same three years ago.

Sohwa's next raw footage arrived as promised. New horror game. 2 hours 10 minutes. I played the video. Her usual opening screen appeared. Blue acrylic board background. Pale lavender-silver hair avatar. Faint purple irises.

"Hello, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this is Sohwa."

Her voice was exactly the same as always. Calm, low tone. Nothing had changed.

"Today I'll try a new release. Not sure if it's scary, but let's see."

Sohwa started the game. 30 minutes passed. An hour. Throughout the stream, she was perfectly her usual self. Not a single trace that this was the person who'd probed my neighborhood in DMs yesterday. Her speech, pace, breathing—all identical to before.

That scared me more. The person who'd tested me yesterday was back to normal Sohwa today, as if nothing happened. Stream was stream, DM was DM. Thoroughly separated.

Only two types could separate them like that. Someone extremely good at acting, or someone where both coexist without contradiction inside them. The latter terrified me more.

At 1 hour 40 minutes. Sohwa let out her first small scream in the game.

"Eek."

Normal reaction. Normal scream. But I measured its length. 0.23 seconds. This wasn't her real startled scream. When Sohwa's genuinely scared, no sound comes out. This was calculated. Giving viewers 'the reaction they want' on purpose.

I looped the 0.23-second segment. Breathing first. 0.15-second inhale. Then 'eek.' Precise timing after the inhale. Acting. She'd flipped ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her usual 'calm play without faking surprise' into 'occasionally cute startled acting.'

Reason? One. Chat wanted it.

'Wanna hear Sohwa scream.' After seeing that line, she'd started occasional screams in stream. Sohwa was managing her audience. Very precisely.

I started editing. Normally, I'd preserve those 'occasional screams.' Fans wanted it, so amplify as editor. But I went reverse. Cut all screams. All four small ones from 2:10. Left only the 0.15-second inhales right before.

Edits with inhales but no screams. Video looks like Sohwa barely reacts to scares. Her calm concept intact. Fans' 'cute screaming Sohwa' vanishes.

But inhales remain. Viewers don't notice consciously, but subconsciously catch it. The sensation of 'something was there but gone' lingers. My message to Sohwa: 'I know it's acting. But I won't tell the fandom.'

She'd know what I read from her edit. No one else would spot it. My only warning.

14 hours work. Sent the final cut.

Reply in 40 minutes.

I closed my eyes once at that sentence. As expected. She'd read it.

I paused typing. Telling the real reason confirms I'm analyzing her. Not telling confirms I'm watching her. Both bad. But if choosing, analysis is better than watching. Analysis is work. Watching isn't.

I paused a beat. Her reason was honest. Honest, so scarier.

I pulled out a cigarette. My hand froze without lighting it.

No reply for a long time.

I set the cigarette in the ashtray. This sentence was more direct than anything she'd sent before. And she knew how it'd land on me. I closed the DM window.

1 a.m. Opened the gallery tab. Skimmed today's posts.

I scrolled down. Over 50 comments. Last ones in this tone.

That last line scared me most. 'Sohwa causing a scandal someday.' Three years ago, same phrase on the gallery for my VTuber. 'She'll cause a scandal someday.' Two months later, it happened.

Sequence always same. Fandom smells first. Doesn't matter if accurate. The vibe creates the real incident. Fandom prophesies, prophecy self-fulfills.

Exactly like three years ago. I closed gallery, no anon reply. Defending today meaningless. Turns into 'Huh? Who's defending so hard?' My mistake three years ago. Staying silent was answer.

2:30 a.m. DM alert. Not Sohwa. Reina.

I almost smirked. Reina, Sohwa, Harukong—all insist it's not personal. 'Business judgment.' 'Editor talk.' 'Benefactor's the boss.' Different words, same structure. Denying personal means it is.

DM closed.

I turned off the monitor. Workshop lights too. Room pitch black. Streetlight glow faintly through curtain gap. First time tonight I thought the name of that VTuber from three years ago. Couldn't linger. Calling it would make me see what I'm doing now. I failed to protect her. Didn't even know who to protect then. 22, thought just edit well. Sohwa's different. Not even 30k yet. Gallery 'scandal someday' smell early. Move now, maybe catch it. Wrong move, exact same as three years ago. I sat long in dark.

3:30 a.m. Another DM. Sohwa.

I held my breath.

Most normal thing she'd said to me yet.

Hand on keyboard. Unanswerable. 'Yes' confirms feelings beyond editing. 'No' gives abandonment fear, strengthens obsession. No good choice. Went another way.

Long silence in DM.

Fingers stopped.

DM closed. Turned monitor back on in dark. Screen brightness hurt eyes. I told Sohwa to step back. But saying it, I knew. She won't. And me saying it means I've tried distancing. She'll notice the effort. Effort itself a signal. Without it, she'd stay. But I said it. Now she fixates on erasing that step.

I made a mistake today. Exactly the same as three years ago.