Spot the Difference
I'd always figured something like this would happen someday. After all, when a man and woman get close, these things arise naturally.
It was just like any other day. After eating, I loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, brewed some coffee, and headed back to my room. I booted up my computer, about to pick up where I'd left off in yesterday's game.
That's when Set-a came into my room.
"Daddy! Do I look any different?"
...This is it.
"Do I look any different?" Hellish spot-the-difference game from a nightmare difficulty, activated.
Well, the odds of me spotting it are low anyway... and even if I don't, nothing bad will happen.
At first, there were times I felt a bit regretful. Call it arrogance if you want, but I sensed that Arin or Set-a could have been people I'd connect with even without the slave dynamic.
It wasn't about the money. Arin and Set-a were worth far more than any price tag.
Still, sometimes I'd wonder: What if we'd met in a free situation, with no contracts at all?
But nowadays, I didn't see it as a bad thing. There was a certain charm in enjoying romance without being swayed by the power imbalance.
If Set-a and I were really lovers, I might even have to suspect her intentions right now...
In the end, she was my slave. Separately from that, she depended on me a lot and loved me deeply. She wouldn't get mad over something like this or use it to pressure me.
Just... take it easy. Think easy.
I slowly scanned Set-a's face. Her golden hair seemed to sparkle even more than usual—or maybe just as much as always. Her eyes were sparkling brightly.
She wasn't the best at makeup, but Set-a enjoyed doing it. The opposite of Arin, who almost never wore any except our first meeting.
Her natural beauty is so stunning that she probably doesn't hate it either...
But right now, it was Set-a in front of me. I had to focus on her.
Makeup... unlikely. I know nothing about it, and making a puzzle out of that would be unfair. She knows that too.
At first glance, nothing jumped out. I wasn't an expert, but if she'd changed her style, even I'd notice. Set-a wasn't that skilled at it anyway.
To her, makeup was something "adult-like." Something rich girls (by her standards) did to lure men and gain advantages. At least, that's what she'd told me directly before.
And she proved it—she wasn't great at it. Her first attempt looked like a kid playing with grown-up cosmetics.
These days she could make herself look pretty decent, but a real change in technique would stand out.
...Hold on.
Lowering my gaze, I felt an odd disconnect. The clothes were baggy. Not a good fit for Set-a.
Arin and I had similar tastes in clothes: oversized, loose, comfy, soft. Like long-lost siblings from childhood.
Maybe it was the collective unconscious of the unemployed—or near-unemployed—rubbing off on us. Or more practically, clothes chosen by people who hated going out converged on the same style.
But Set-a was different. She hadn't said it outright, but hints were there.
After truly opening up to me and becoming a full family member, the first thing she did was buy new clothes.
No extravagance—just perfectly decent stuff from cheap online sites.
But she always aimed for a precise fit, nothing too loose or tight.
I didn't get why at first, but seeing the clothes she discarded made it clear. Lots didn't fit right. Hers were especially worn-out compared to mine or Arin's baggy style.
Hand-me-downs.
For her to wear that—
"Your clothes changed."
"Almost! Just a bit more!"
It was a familiar plain black T-shirt. But compared to what I usually saw, the chest area looked... empty?
"You stole Arin's shirt?"
"I asked nicely! I really wanted to try this—stealing big sis's clothes!"
Unable to contain her excitement, Set-a bounced around before hugging me tight, still in Arin's shirt.
"She... gave it to you, huh?"
"Gotta do at least this much."
I stroked her head, and suddenly thought of Arin.
"By the way, you never do it the other way around? She's got a sneaky playful side—might steal yours sometime."
"Big sis stealing my clothes? They wouldn't fit."
"..."
I couldn't bring myself to say what came next. Catching my gaze, Set-a pouted.
"Yeah, it'd be super tight. Especially the chest."
"Well, body types are what they are."
"...I-I'll give it back! It's not too late!"
With a bright smile, I followed Set-a as she slipped out of the room.
Right then, a loud voice came from Arin's room.
"Ah, uh, h-hello... there!"
Set-a and I exchanged baffled looks.
/////
"They're... gone."
Arin stared blankly at her monitor, her expression hollow. She had to admit the number next to "Viewer Count" hadn't budged no matter what she did.
They left. Right after coming in.
"Did I... mess up somehow?"
She couldn't get impatient. No one fills up on the first bite.
But no matter how she thought about it, her "Hello!" greeting had no connection to them leaving.
"Did the greeting... make them leave?"
Thinking back, it wasn't impossible. If someone got overly eager the moment a viewer showed up, it might scare them off.
"Th-this time, no talking. Uh..."
She resumed her paused game.
I need commentary...
But talking to an empty room felt pointless. Hollow.
Just focus on the game...
She couldn't concentrate. Her eyes kept drifting down—to the phone propped by the monitor.
Views: 1. No one but herself was watching.
The start... can be tough.
She wasn't totally clueless. She knew tons of people started streams, and she wasn't special.
Still, she'd harbored a faint hope. It vanished in an instant, too fast to catch.
Whoa, they're back!
Clearing her throat, Arin pondered her next words.
"The, uh, graphics settings... look weird. I swear I tweaked them..."
Knowing someone might be watching made tension creep up her body. Her head spun.
Minutes ago she'd begged for even one viewer; now her eyes trembled at the thought.
"The image in the bottom right... isn't too big, right? It covers the UI... Should I move it?"
She caught her breath and kept going, but the unease lingered. The stream feed felt off. Graphics wrong. Image weird. The rushed illustration looked lacking.
Don't panic.
Even if there were issues, she couldn't end her first stream like this. Steel yourself, hit the keys—
Then a massive drill noise roared from outside.
"Eek!"
Clear even through her headphones. Probably blasting through her mic to the few listeners too.
"Oh no!"
Gone. The two viewers vanished in a flash.
An hour in, zero chats.
"...That's it for today."
Nothing more to do anyway. The drill wouldn't quiet soon, and no one was watching.
"Not working?"
Flopping her limp body onto the bed, Arin sank into thought.
"Maybe it was doomed from the start..."
Her grand rosy fantasy left a huge, empty void when it shattered.
"Come to think of it, back in college, Se-in was the only one who ever called me pretty..."
In truth, it was her hollow eyes, messy hair hiding her face, and baggy clothes concealing her figure—but Arin didn't realize.
Even if someone interested approached, she'd flee desperately.
But those facts were erased from her mind.
"At least the illustration fee buys a few days..."
Writhing on the bed, Arin's ears were tormented by the endless remodeling noise. Uncomfortable even lying down. Limbs felt awkwardly placed no matter the pose, noise pounding her ears.
Arin let out a deep sigh.