The Contract
"Such a waste!"
"Huh?"
I nearly dropped the glass of water I was holding at Reiko's sudden shriek-like cry, but I managed to catch it just in time. If I'd broken it and had to pay for damages, that would've been a huge hassle—but luckily, I didn't. Still, the water inside, sloshing halfway up, spilled out from the jolt, soaking my hand and the table. Reiko, startled herself, quickly grabbed some tissues.
"Oh no, are you okay?"
"I-I'm fine. I didn't get hurt..."
Reiko's slender, long, snow-white fingers gently grasped my tiny hand and began dabbing it clean with delicate care. It was just water, nothing hot like coffee—yet here she was, tending to it so earnestly. Despite her somewhat intimidating, sharp features, she had a really kind heart. Maybe all beauties have gentle souls...
"So, will you sign the contract?"
"Huh?"
After tidying up the spill, Reiko abruptly brought it up out of nowhere. Contract? What contract?
"I'm not asking you to become a magical girl or anything. Since you've passed the interview, it's only natural to confirm if you actually want to sign with our company."
"Ah, ahaha... R-right..."
I gave an awkward laugh, playing along with what I assumed was her joke. She was probably just trying to loosen me up—this awkward, otaku-looking guy who clearly sucked at talking to women. Sure, the joke's anime reference was pretty dated and wouldn't land with my generation at all, but... I didn't point that out.
Contract... a contract. I'd just gotten absolutely demolished in the interview, and now this mess of a person was seriously going to become a corporate VTuber? I had zero—no, a ton—of confidence. I'd applied hoping it might work out, sure, but...
"You don't look too confident."
"W-well... yeah..."
"I know it might be hard to believe coming from the person who gave you such harsh feedback earlier, but I genuinely see potential and talent in you, Miss Ito."
"Heh... hehe..."
"To ease your mind, you're not the only one who's passed the second interview and is currently in training. No job throws you in without any preparation, after all. ...In a way, it's like being an idol trainee."
"A trainee...?"
"There are some differences, of course," Reiko murmured, pouring herself coffee from a beaker that looked like it belonged in a science lab. The elegant, composed motion suited her perfectly.
A lot of people viewed or treated virtual YouTubers as an extension of idols. With this bizarre job mixing idols, voice actors, broadcasters, and all sorts of other professions willy-nilly—was it really okay for it to symbolize someone's dreams and aspirations? Debates over that kind of "roots" stuff were best left to the enthusiasts who loved arguing about it... Anyway.
"Assuming you have basic knowledge of the industry, it's obvious there's a ton of training needed for proper corporate activities."
"Like... confidentiality and such...?"
"Exactly. Personal info that could dox you is a given, as is rigorously protecting company projects. And there's more besides... Lately, the big issue is probably racial sensitivity."
"H-huh...?"
Reiko's words conjured a nightmare in my head. After months of grueling training, my debut stream goes off without a hitch. The next day, during a chill P1 stream—my go-to comfort food—everything's fine until I get killed by an enemy player. Forgetting the stream's still live, I mutter to myself...
"Fucking n-word bastard..."
Panicking, I try to play it off, edit the archive—but Korean communities and plenty of Japanese folks understand basic Korean. Can't cover the sky with a hand. The backlash torches Korean-Japanese and international communities alike. The company dumps me with a one-sided notice that we can't continue together, I do a graduation stream, and suddenly I'm hit with lawsuits for breach of contract—training costs, equipment, massive penalties...
"That's why we train you, so no need to make that face."
"Ah, w-was it obvious?"
Ehehe, I laughed dumbly, scratching the back of my head sheepishly. Reiko let out a small chuckle, looking a bit amused. Whatever her intent, the tense atmosphere between us finally thawed—a good sign.
In the midst of it, my eyes caught Reiko's smartphone on the table corner. Specifically, the tiny sticker and keychain on its case. I smiled faintly.
"Y-you... like that, huh? Love-Light Flower Clouds..."
"...Ah, yeah. Embarrassing."
"Heh... hehe. M-me too. It's cute, right? Maria-chan or... Estelle..."
To put it bluntly, Love-Light Flower Clouds was just a cute animal-girl anime with a dash of yuri vibes. Adorable little girls subtly aware of each other, sometimes laughing, crying, chattering... that kind of thing. Hard to flop big or hit huge—it was comfy background viewing for most. Brain-off relaxation, so yeah, I liked it too.
I spent a bit chatting anime with Reiko. Was she picking the topic to accommodate me, or did she just love it that much? Either way, our rapport skyrocketed inwardly.
"So, may I have your answer?"
"...C-can I really do it? For real...?"
"I can't guarantee it. The market's unpredictable like that. But... I promise I won't let you regret choosing this."
Reiko's burning gaze met mine—not just me, but something beyond. That look...
.
.
.
"I'm really sorry... f-for the coffee... and then... the, the ride..."
"No need. It wasn't far."
A soothing scent matching Reiko wafted from the smoothly gliding mid-size SUV—no engine noise at all. Something crisp like fresh flowers, calming my mind inexplicably.
Screech!
The whisper-quiet car suddenly braked hard with a roar. Reiko's left hand had instinctively wrapped my shoulder, keeping me from lurching forward.
"...You okay? Sorry, sudden stop."
"I-I'm fine... hehe... Y-you're so kind... Miss Reiko."
"You're a valuable company asset now. This is just standard."
Reiko coughed lightly, averting her eyes—hiding a blush, maybe. Company asset... yeah. Hearing that made it sink in. I'd signed the contract. Not quite ready to brag about belonging to VConnect yet—like a trainee still—but whatever awaited, I'd give it my all.
Even so, a nagging thought lingered: Why bother? Why are you even trying to stream? What's the point?
...Why, indeed. I didn't know. Nothing else appealed, and I had no clue what to do anyway. I shook my head to banish the negativity.
"W-we're here... Th-that mansion... is where I live."
"Ah, got it."
Reiko parked expertly in the mansion's lot. Only now did I notice: too big for a solo woman. Company car? Makes sense for groups.
Taking public transit solo had taken over an hour to the office; her ride shaved it to 40-50 minutes. Not huge, but comfy. No wonder people get licenses and cars.
Won't be driving this body anytime soon, though...
"Well, I'll be off then."
"Ah..."
She bowed after I got out, about to climb back in. Round trip over two hours just to see me home... felt kinda bad.
"U-um... M-Miss Reiko!"
"Yes?"
"W-wanna come in for... tea or something...?"
Hehe, I blurted it out awkwardly. Reiko looked a bit flustered.
.
.
.
'Is she seducing me?'
Reiko shook her head hard to clear the thought. Unlikely. Their brief hours together showed Yui wasn't like that—innocent, a bit dumb, awkward with people, kind. That's how Reiko saw her. Probably just guilt over the ride, offering out of politeness.
'Told her not to worry...'
Yeah, few would just go, "Cool, do whatever." Human relations, Japan—obvious, but sometimes exhausting.
"C-come in..."
"Yes, excuse me."
Lost in thought, they'd already climbed the low-rise mansion stairs to Yui's door. Even these shallow steps—easy for elderly—left Yui slightly winded.
'Gotta build stamina first.'
Her scrawny, elementary-school-kid frame hinted at it, but even kids had wild energy—this was worse. Reiko mentally noted: top priority, Yui care plan.
Yui unlocked the tidy door, bowing slightly to guide her in. Slipping off her all-day trapped heels—pins and needles—Reiko stepped inside...
And gaped, dumbfounded.
'This... is a home?'