Brotherly Consultation
Yeah. This was, no matter how you sliced it, a seriously messed-up situation.
What was so messed up about it? Obviously the fact that Lua had just thrown that kind of offer at me.
Lua was currently the single biggest revenue driver for Fantasy Live. Purely by weight class among Korean VTubers, she was in the absolute top tier—that said everything that needed saying.
Her fanbase, the Rurudan, even got treated like the “casual” VTuber fans. Too mainstream a pick, people said.
Why the “mainstream pick” label? Because a ridiculous number of people watched her even if they weren’t otherwise into VTubers; her sheer size pulled them in. And it wasn’t just guys—her audience was broad enough that gender barely mattered.
Guys who liked games couldn’t help falling for the entertaining gaming VTuber that was Ruru. Girls found her ridiculously cute and felt that soft, affectionate pull.
Anyway, the important part was this: the fact that she had flat-out asked me, “Wanna be my editor?” meant that if my skills were good enough, she could pull strings and scout me even if it meant overstepping her authority.
If I’d known that was on the table, I never would’ve sat for the interview—I would’ve gone through her in all seriousness.
But I’d already signed the freelance contract. The one that made me the clipper for Fantasy Live’s second-generation talents. Once I turned adult, it would probably convert into a full formal contract.
So I decided to ask for help from the one person I could safely tell everything to.
“Hyung, help me.”
The second I got home I called for my brother. Naturally I brought his favorite snacks and drinks as tribute.
He was buried in studying for an upcoming certification exam, but he looked up at me.
“What’s going on?”
“Well…”
I hesitated for a second—should I really say it?—then decided I would.
I wasn’t the type to brag, but because we had a decent age gap he really looked out for me. We joked around a lot, did brotherly stuff together, shared hobbies. Day to day he was pretty quiet, the kind of guy who just quietly took care of the people around him.
That was exactly why I could trust him with this.
“…Hyung. I know Kuroa Ruru’s red pill.”
“Huh? Out of nowhere?”
“…It’s Lua.”
My brother froze for a solid ten seconds. He blinked, thought something over, then slowly nodded.
“…Now that you mention it, their voices are kind of similar.”
“Right?”
“Why are you suddenly telling me this?”
I opened my mouth carefully and laid it all out: that the person I’d gone out to talk with earlier was Lua, that we’d chatted about this and that, and that she’d asked me if I wanted to become her editor.
Once he’d heard everything, my brother grasped the whole mess instantly.
“Haha… this got pretty complicated.”
“Right?”
“Yeah.”
He nodded, agreeing with me completely.
Yeah. It had turned into a real headache.
I was already contracted as the second-gen clipper. If, on top of that, I used Lua’s influence to become Kuroa Ruru’s editor… the situation would go from messy to full-on migraine.
“Mmm… uuuugh… damn… tsk… what the hell do we do about this…”
Even my brother didn’t seem to have a sharp solution for once; he just tilted his head back and forth.
In the end the “best” idea he could come up with was…
“…You’re contracted as a freelancer, not a full-time editor.”
“Yeah?”
“So… maybe give them a heads-up before the formal contract.”
“Heads-up?”
“Yeah. That you want to be Kuroa Ruru’s editor.”
“Ah…”
The fact that this was the best sharp solution available already made my head hurt.
Sure, it was a freelance gig. I wasn’t a full-time editor, so after doing second-gen work I could just apply to be Ruru’s editor—or become her editor through Lua.
But if that happened, the Representative—who had already earmarked me for the second-gen and company-channel editing—would feel pretty betrayed. Plus any plans he’d sketched out could get twisted, even a little.
So the idea was to give him advance notice. Tell him which direction I wanted to go, and give him time to rework whatever plans he’d made.
Of course, if the Representative just steamrolled me and said, “I don’t care about that, you’re the second-gen editor,” there wouldn’t be much I could do. There wasn’t much I could do to begin with.
I wondered how the hell I was supposed to untangle this headache.
“Oh, and hyung.”
“What.”
“…If Lua finds out I’m Mangjjonku, I’m dead, right?”
“She still doesn’t know?”
“Nope.”
My brother thought for a second, then patted my shoulder.
“…Just take the hit and get chewed out once.”
“…Will it stop at a chewing-out?”
“Who knows. Get scolded either way. You’ve taken way too good care of Ruru.”
“So I’ve basically screwed myself over for real.”
“Pretty much.”
He kept lightly thumping my shoulder, then suddenly gripped it.
“Hyung?”
“…So, little brother?”
“Yes.”
“…When are you and Lua gonna start dating?”
“…Excuse me??”
And there he went with the weird stuff again.
It was because he said crap like that that he still didn’t have a girlfriend at his age.
That height, that face, that voice, those skills—and no girlfriend? That should’ve been harder to pull off than having one.
Truly impressive, Junwoo Seo.
The day after that short consultation with my brother, I still went to school.
Naturally the whole place was in pure celebration mode after exams—except for one person who was still studying hard.
Lua, of course.
I walked over and sat down right next to her.
“Jinwoo?”
“What.”
“That’s someone else’s seat…”
“Switched. I asked, and they switched.”
“…You were close with Sumin?”
“I only knew the name.”
“Then why would they switch with you?”
Well. Why indeed.
Both Lua and I already knew the answer. We walked to and from school together almost every day and spent an insane amount of time just chatting—how many people wouldn’t assume we were a couple?
Fine, I’ll just say it straight. The fact that everyone around us kept treating me and Lua like a couple? I got it.
Honestly I would’ve done the same. How could a guy and a girl stick that close together and not be dating?
And in my case… it wasn’t like I had no feelings at all.
Even if she was the childhood friend who’d seen me at my absolute worst and best, even if we were so close there was basically no barrier left, Lua’s looks were still on another level. Cute yet elegant, pretty yet cool. She could pull off all of it at once, and that face was wall-level beautiful.
How was I supposed to not catch feelings? I just ignored them, that was all.
Besides, whatever crush I had was probably still smaller than the friendship I felt for her.
Probably. Yeah. Probably.
“…If you just switch seats like that the teacher’s gonna scold you, you know?”
“You know she won’t.”
Ever since exams ended our teacher had been basically semi-neglectful, telling us, “You’ll be seniors next year, but you’re still juniors right now—enjoy this!” She’d even rented a reading room early for the kids who wanted to start studying for next year’s CSAT and sent them upstairs. Thoughtful of her.
And the fact that Lua wasn’t among them probably meant…
“…Lua. You’re not going to college, are you?”
She wasn’t going to college.
Lua didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, just like before, she started a written conversation.
How did you know?
Just a feeling.
Pretty good feeling.
We kept trading notes, but running underneath every line was one clear emotion: mutual respect.
At our age, people usually asked “What are you gonna do if you don’t go to college?” or “How are you gonna live?” We never said any of that to each other. We worried, sure—but we also had this quiet faith that the other person would figure it out.
I’m probably gonna keep being a VTuber.
This job’s ridiculously fun.
A little hard sometimes, though.
When she wrote the word “hard,” her hand moved without the slightest hesitation. She must have been feeling that difficulty more often than I realized.
If it gets hard, hang out with me sometimes.
That was about all I could offer. Because I was her friend. Because I was one of the very few people who knew her secret. Not completely the only one—but still one of the rare ones.
Lua hesitated a little, then wrote back.
Nope.
I’m gonna hang out every day.
When I read that she was going to hang out every day, I looked at her in mild surprise.
She was looking right back at me, grinning.
That smile was so cool and so pretty that I couldn’t help making a completely dumb face.
By the time I realized how stupid I must have looked, she was already laughing soundlessly while watching me.
If she ever showed that real smile to the other kids instead of just me, her popularity would have been absolutely insane. I was sure of it.
Which was why I was grateful.
Grateful that I could fall into the delusion that that expression was basically mine alone. That private privilege, that little fantasy that her smile belonged only to me.