chapter 1
chapter 1
Good Afternoon
“Grrrr.”
The alarm goes off.
Forced awake from sleep, a rough groan like something from Ju-on escapes from my mouth.
It was a disaster caused by staying up late watching game videos under the excuse of revisiting memories.
Sleep deprivation.
But for a job seeker, even a single hour of the day felt far too precious to waste, so there was no luxury of sleeping in.
I forcibly pull the blanket off my body, letting the cold air seep in.
That snaps my sluggish body awake.
“I should’ve just watched one and stopped… and then I kept going again… ugh.”
My favorite streamer’s replay channel that never disappears.
After finishing one long “king of the hill” type video, I ended up playing the next one as well, and that’s how things turned out.
Regret is pointless now.
I lift my gaze and look at the desk in front of me.
A very small display space set up next to the computer.
It was hard to even call it a proper display stand, but it was where my daily ritual began.
“Good morning, Laviel.”
I mutter a greeting to the merchandise on my desk.
Normally I only greet her with my eyes, but today I try saying it out loud.
It feels embarrassing. Cringe, even, but it can’t be helped.
That’s just how I am at my core… a hopeless otaku.
No, maybe it’s better to say “used to be” now.
She’s no longer here, and all that remains are just two pieces of merchandise she left behind over three years of broadcasting.
Acrylic stand, which I had placed reverently on the display… and a keyring… or at least it should have been.
“Where’s the stand? Wait, wait, wait.”
Energy surges through my body in a way completely different from when I’m getting up to prepare for job hunting.
Sleep vanishes in an instant, and I jump up in surprise.
…If it disappears, I can’t get it again. They don’t even sell it anymore.
I leap to my feet and rush out in my pajamas.
In situations like this, the culprit was usually my mom.
“Mom~ did you clean my room yesterday?”
“Huh? Yeah~ it looked a bit messy, so I cleaned it up.”
Opening the door, I ask my mother, who is cooking in the kitchen.
She glances over while answering.
Just as I thought.
I told her not to clean my room. I said I’d take care of it myself.
“Then where’s the acrylic stand? Laviel’s acrylic stand.”
“Acrylic what? Oh, that? That anime character figurine thing?”
“It’s not an anime character, it’s a VTuber.”
“Same thing. It was in the way while cleaning, so I moved it for a moment… where did I put it… ah, it should be in the drawer underneath.”
“I told you not to touch the display. I clean that every day myself.”
“Every day? There was a pile of dust underneath.”
At least she didn’t throw it away, which was a relief.
If she had, I might have genuinely resented her, no matter that she’s my mother.
“You’re getting older now, so stop watching childish things like that and just throw them away already. They just take up space, what’s the point?”
“If you throw it away, I’ll die. Mom. Don’t you dare throw it away.”
“Alright, alright, I won’t. Now hurry up, eat and get going. Job seeker son.”
After I spoke seriously, my mom brushed it off lightly.
At 27 years old, having graduated from college and now in the job-seeking phase, I didn’t have the strength to talk back to her.
Of course, these days it’s common for people my age to still live with their parents.
But people around me were starting to get jobs one by one.
I return to my room and rummage through the drawer as she said.
“Is it here? Ah, here it is. Phew.”
I take out the Laviel stand, perfectly preserved without any damage inside the drawer, and place it back on the display.
Only then does everything feel like it’s back in its proper place, and my mind calms down.
Finally, I can leave with peace of mind.
After finishing my morning greeting to her, I eat the meal my mom prepared and get ready.
“You’re going to the cafe again today?”
“Yeah. I’ve basically settled there now. If I don’t go early in the morning, the seat I always sit in gets taken, so I have to go early.”
“Alright~ go and come back well.”
The second floor of a large chain-style cafe near my home—that was my workplace.
I leave the house and walk toward the cafe with a calm mind.
As soon as it opens at 9 a.m., I go inside and head up to the second floor where there are more empty seats.
A corner seat by the window with blinds.
That was my fixed seat, the one I chose for myself.
After that, it was a repetitive, boring routine.
I turn on my laptop, browse job posting sites, and check the listings posted today.
“This one’s application deadline is next month… so I should prepare for this first.”
Then I work on creating and revising my portfolio to submit.
“Should this be targeted at single men in their 20s or 30s?”
“Mmm… and it’d be better if they’re men who actively use social media.”
I open PowerPoint and repeatedly delete and rewrite sentences.
Surprisingly, that’s most of what a job seeker who majored in business administration and marketing ends up doing.
Well, I already obtained most of my certifications back in my fourth year, and it’s not easy for graduates to go out and do internships anyway.
In the first place, this field itself doesn’t have clearly defined criteria.
If anything, the only additional thing would be entering competitions to pad my portfolio.
“Looking at this again… it seems kind of lacking…”
While I was revising a sample video I made for reference, someone came up to the second floor after some time.
And then, two seats across from me near the window.
A woman places her bag there.
…She’s here again.
Training pants and a white hoodie with drawstrings.
Even without much makeup, her features are distinct, and her skin is very fair.
Her long ash-purple hair, a rare color to see, is tied up neatly.
Could she be an idol trainee or something?
A beauty rarely seen in real life carried an oddly mysterious atmosphere, drawing my attention.
…Well, she’s probably a job seeker too.
Regardless of her appearance, seeing her take out a stack of books on her desk gives a rough idea of what she’s doing.
From a distance, I can see the titles.
Korean history, English, Korean language.
Books I’ve seen before at a friend’s place who was preparing for civil service exams.
She’s probably studying for a government job.
It’s been three months since I graduated and started job hunting in earnest.
It’s also been over three months since I started coming to this cafe, but that woman comes here every day.
She arrives slightly later than me, studies until closing time, and then leaves.
Our routines overlap so much that it’s impossible not to notice.
She doesn’t seem to pay much attention to me, though.
I glance at her from the corner of my eye, then feel oddly embarrassed when I see her fully focused on studying and turn back to my laptop.
…What am I even doing?
Is this just the instinct of a pitiful man?
I can’t help but look at a pretty woman when she’s right in front of me.
But beyond that, checking on her has somehow become part of my daily routine.
…She’s working this hard too, so I should do my best as well.
Maybe it’s a sense of camaraderie.
Like being in a library during exam season and getting motivated by the person next to you studying hard.
Just the fact that another job seeker is sitting beside me gives me a sense of encouragement.
A feeling that I’m not the only one struggling.
I wonder if thinking like this makes me a bit creepy, then shake my head and refocus on my portfolio.
“Stop thinking about useless things and just get to work.”
Even when I spoke to seniors or attended job seminars, they said it could take anywhere from six months to over a year to land a job, so I wasn’t in a rush.
Still, I wanted to shorten that period if possible.
Spending a whole year repeating this dull life would be dreadful.
Of course, in marketing, just like competitions, there are no clear criteria.
There’s no guarantee that effort will translate into faster results.
“Maybe I’ll listen to some music.”
There aren’t many people yet, but more will start coming soon.
To prepare for the noise, I decide to block out my ears with Bluetooth earphones.
After all, doing repetitive work itself is already boring.
“…Let’s go with this today. Good Afternoon.”
Laviel’s first original song.
Even though it’s almost been a year since she graduated, my playlist is still filled with her songs.
Laviel’s original songs. Laviel’s cover songs.
This is a song she sang on a large server.
This is a song she sang during her first karaoke stream.
A playlist full of memories with her that others wouldn’t understand.
Some might say it’s time to move on, but for me, deleting it was never an option.
Not only did I love her voice and songs that much.
I pair the earphones and turn on noise cancellation.
Then I raise the volume to maximum and play “Good Afternoon.”
[How was it? Your day today.]
[I hope today turns out to be a good afternoon~]
A familiar melody and Laviel’s self-written, lyrical lyrics.
Her soft, soothing voice blends in and warms my heart.
Most of Laviel’s songs are healing songs.
That’s the style she preferred.
In the first place, her broadcast style was also something like a calm, radio-like healing stream.
“Hmm, isn’t the volume too low?”
Even though the volume is at maximum, the sound feels muffled.
Almost as if it’s passing through noise cancellation.
Just as I begin to feel a strange sense of déjà vu and reach for my phone, someone taps my shoulder.
“…Kiyo.”
Startled, I turn to the side, and a woman with ash-purple hair is staring at me.
She gestures with her hand, as if telling me to remove my earphones, and I quickly take them out.
Then I realize something.
“…Why is this coming out here?”
I heard the sound indicating a successful pairing.
Yet somehow, the music I played was coming from my phone.
At maximum volume.
Looking around, there’s no one else here except the woman in front of me.
It seems she came over because the music I was playing was too loud while she was studying.
“You realized it now.”
She lets out a small chuckle at my flustered reaction.
Her soft laugh and voice are pleasant to hear.
A slightly low tone for a woman, like small beads rolling.
It’s the first time I’ve heard her voice, and I find myself unconsciously listening, almost dazed.
Then I snap back to my senses, realizing this isn’t the time for that.
“Ah, sorry. The pairing notification did come up, so maybe it’s an earphone error. I’m sorry it was loud. I’ll turn it off right away.”
My face turns slightly red without me realizing it.
No matter how much I like the song, I’m not shameless enough to expose my personal tastes in a public place.
I quickly stop the playback and apologize, and she smiles again and speaks.
“No, it’s fine. There’s no one else here anyway, so I’m the only one who could’ve told you.”
“Ah, that’s true.”
Looking around, there really isn’t anyone else besides her.
Maybe that’s a relief.
She lets out a cute chuckle as she says that.
It’s like she knows how to avoid making people feel awkward.
Feeling grateful for her considerate tone, I cool down the heat rising in my face.
Then she glances at my phone for a moment and says,
“By the way, that song…”
“Yes? Ah, yeah.”
She’s probably talking about the song I just played.
Laviel’s “Good Afternoon.”
“Is that ‘Good Afternoon,’ by any chance?”
…How do you know that?
I look at her in surprise upon hearing the song title from her mouth.
It’s not a song that’s easy to recognize.
Laviel wasn’t a particularly famous VTuber, and her original songs had never trended on platforms or music sites.
The only people who would know this song would be her fanbase, the “Ravi.”
Then this person… could she be…?
“You’re right… are you a Ravi too?”
No way. A Ravi actually exists in real life?
Sorry, Laviel. I used to think you were just making that up.
I silently apologized to my favorite.