The Epitome of Purity: Unicorn
"May I move on to the next topic?"
"Ah, y-yeah. Sure."
"Excellent. Assuming you've grasped all those elements I mentioned, let's proceed. In essence, this boils down to what kind of streamer¹ you're going to be."
Reiko flipped to another blank page in her diary and wrote three characters there.
配信者 (Streamer, or haishinsha in Japanese). There wasn't a perfect Korean equivalent, and the term carried all sorts of layered meanings, but roughly speaking, "internet streamer" worked just fine.
Beneath it, in her round, bubbly handwriting, Reiko added something else.
What goal to aim for? A goal... It was one of those phrases that made your mind spin in all directions.
"To start with company policy—and I suspect you feel the same, Ito-san—but game streaming seems like the way to go. Does that align with your thinking?"
"Y-Yeah... I mean, I'm not... uh, great at drawing or anything like that... no special talents..."
"Very well."
Reiko nodded slightly and jotted down a new term.
Game Streamer. A bit awkward in Korean, but there you go.
"Game streaming forms the core of your identity as a streamer. You'll play various games live, interacting with viewers or others... but that's where directions start to diverge."
Reiko wrote another word: unicorn.
I knew exactly what this seemingly out-of-place term meant—Reiko did too, of course. Common across industries, but in this context, it referred to fans who were utterly repulsed by the idea of their streamer getting romantically involved with the opposite sex.
It was mostly used for female streamers, but the reverse wasn't unheard of. Having spent years watching streams and lurking in communities, I had a solid grasp on unicorn culture. Not that I'd brag about being an expert or anything embarrassing like that.
"Unicorn" was a broad label, with factions galore. The most radical—or sensitive, if you prefer—insisted on "don't interact at all." They flipped out over mentions or SNS chats, even demanding all-male staff. A step down, and you'd get "I get the business partnerships and working together, but I don't want to hear their voices." Seemed simple: "Just skip the collab streams." But to them, it stirred complicated feelings...
Anyway. Then it ranged from "broadcast friends are fine" to "dating's okay as long as it's not public," "no past relationships is fine," "no current ones is okay," "non-public romance is alright," "just don't get caught," or even "register your marriage to put us at ease."² At that point, you wonder if they're even unicorns...
Point is, streamers—regardless of gender—inspire a sense of intimate connection in viewers. Even without intent, it can morph into pseudo-romantic feelings. Regular streamers deal with it; imagine idols leaning into fan service. No need to elaborate.
Handling those warped emotions requires some seriously unconventional measures. For the record, I started out as "don't want to hear male voices," but watching more streams made it irrelevant. Turns out I wasn't a unicorn—I just hated men's voices. Fixed now...
Anyway.
"I know it's impolite, but... Ito-san, do you have—or have you had—a romantic partner? Or any intention of one?"
"Uh... n-no."
"No need to read the room and lie. Answer honestly—it won't affect you negatively here. Or refuse if you prefer. Really, none?"
This body had zero dating experience. Even setting aside the massive red flags about any potential partner's tastes, Ito Yui—that is, me—had never been interested in anyone. Not bullied or antisocial; I had my friend groups, chimed in on love talks, hot boy bands, and actors like any girl my age. But inside? Nothing.
So I answered flatly: no real interest. Reiko must've thought it was a white lie to impress the boss.
"...Yeah. N-No... nothing like dating guys or whatever."
"—So you do have plans with women?"
That question shut me down cold. And got me thinking.
Is that true? Do I... like women?
One corner of my brain chimes in: Of course. You're a guy—liking girls is natural.
Then the other side yells: You're a girl now. What's natural about that?
Response: Guys or girls, anyone can like women, right? It's not like past memories force me to label it that way.
My head's in chaos, a sudden brawl, and I couldn't spit out an easy answer. Who am I? I am... Ito Yui. Think slowly.
Do I like women? Cute girls in anime? Yeah, I love those shows—still do. Hearing anime in my native tongue felt weirdly fresh. But anyway.
Fine, I like cute, pretty girls. But as dating or sexual targets? Straight women like cute girls too. Same for guys. No prejudice against gay people—yuri or BL, I respect 'em. Yuri especially; factions within it, sure, but I dig a lot.
But would I be happy in that position? Do I want it? A special bond with a beautiful woman? Like... Reiko right here?
I stared blankly at her. She met my eyes. A few seconds of silence... I answered slowly.
"Probably... not."
"May I ask why the 'probably'? Feel free to skip it—it's just personal curiosity."
I could skip it. But hiding from Reiko, who'd helped me so much? Didn't feel right. Not gossip fodder, but not a deep secret either.
"H-Honestly... I don't know. Women over men, maybe... but as dating material... nah, doesn't click. Something like that..."
"Understood."
"Is that... weird? Yeah...?"
"By societal bell curves, yes, it's unusual. But in my view, it's quite common. Many choose lifelong singledom, regardless of gender, from lacking opposite-sex attraction."
"Heh..."
Same idea, but she phrased it so sophisticatedly—made her seem super professional. Kinda cool. I glanced at her admiringly, and she jotted something in her diary like an idea had struck.
Gachi-lesbian.
...Huh?
"Ito-san, you mentioned no aversion to yuri fan service before. No change there?"
"Y-Yeah... b-but. Isn't gachi-lesbian different...?"
Gachi-lesbian meant the real deal. Not "faking for otaku bait"—actual homosexual.
But me? Not really.
"No worries. It's just a character-building proposal. These types pop up in stories all the time—a common trope, no?"
"Ah, y-yeah... Like, kinda... overly enthusiastic, but no one reciprocates... that vibe?"
"Details depend on refinement, but close enough. Why suggest it? Simple: to act convincingly, draw from your own similarities. For instance, any favorite sports, Ito-san?"
"Sports... not really. Esports, maybe..."
"Then, if I asked you to roleplay as a 'diehard fan of a specific baseball team for 10 years'—could you?"
"...No way. I barely know the rules..."
All I knew: three outs end an inning, nine innings per game. Snacks during breaks. Pro terms? Zero. Faking that? Busted in days.
Reiko's intent clicked.
"So... since I kinda like anime with cute girls, amp that up for the character?"
"Precisely. Too much? Say so."
"Hold on..."
I crossed my arms, pondering. Her theories made sense: streamers need personality. Something clear, relatable—a crowd-pleaser. Not over-the-top; we'd refine it later. Foundation first.
For that key choice... I said,
"...Yeah, I can do it. Let's go with that."
"Absolutely sure?"
"Th-Thought it through... You're looking out for me, and... nothing else feels as natural right now. At least for starters."
"Excellent. Confirmed, then."
Reiko circled gachi-lesbian with a nod, then wrote a single character.
男 (Man).
"This might feel like an ultimatum. Company guidelines aside, refusing collabs with men could bring disadvantages—not pressure from us, but official events, projects, that sort of thing."
"Y-Yeah..."
"Comfortable streaming with male VTubers, pro gamers, other streamers? We can accommodate your unicorn stance while respecting it."
"Ah... n-no. Not scared of guys or anything—learning from pros sounds great... and honestly... gachi-koibito sales? I'd suck at that. Yeah."
This was sincere. Unicorn-baiting rakes in cash? Sure. But if easy, everyone's rich. Comparisons, scandals snapping horns, pandering to creepy otaku till you snap... Not my forte. My mental game's not that tough.