Saying You Always Want to Cook for Someone Is Often Like a Proposal

A full day had already passed since Noise became a new member of the household.

Creating her physical body had completely wrecked my condition, but the stream I'd already planned still had to go on no matter what. This was only my third broadcast. If I announced a break over poor health this early… well, that wouldn't just stop the boat from moving — it'd snap the oar clean in half.

Fortunately, my concept was built around short, punchy content: hit hard and get out. The stream wrapped up around the one-hour mark, which was a relief.

"Ahem. That brings today's planned anime screening to a close. So — did everyone enjoy themselves?"

I delivered the closing remarks naturally and snuck a glance at the chat reactions.

Today's content had been watching a Blu-ray disc I'd scavenged from the scrapyard together with the viewers. What was on that disc turned out to be an anime from the Old Civilization era — an unexpected haul beyond anything I'd hoped for.

Screenings are seriously convenient. And with no copyright to worry about, I can just put it on screen without a second thought. Double the convenience.

By the standards of the era I'd lived in, chatting a little and then casually dipping after a single episode would have looked like pure freeloading. But this work was a relic of the Old Civilization that existed nowhere on the internet. It was packed with techniques and inventive storytelling that simply didn't exist anymore… so not a single flicker of dissatisfaction came from the audience.

"Where did I get it, you ask? Well, there are ways."

Heh heh heh… I let out a laugh like a witch hiding some secret and aimed a meaningful smile at the camera.

…I found it on the street! Saying that honestly might leave the listener feeling a little weird about it. This was all just part of raising the value of my stream. It wasn't because I didn't want to answer. Really.

"Luckily this was episode one, so we can wrap things up cleanly right here. If the chance comes, I'll try to find the next episode and hold another screening with all of you."

The real stroke of luck was that it was a clean first episode with no prior context required. If it had been some awkward mid-series episode four or five, or right before the finale, the emotional threads would have been impossible to follow and everything would have felt impenetrable. At least after three streams, it looked like I'd avoided having my momentum snap clean off and my broadcast lifespan cut short.

"Alright then — bye! Great work today, everyone! I'll leave a notice for the next stream!"

I took the viewers' goodbyes and leisurely ended the stream.

Uptime: one hour seventeen minutes. Average viewers: thirty-three hundred. Chat messages: ten thousand.

Overall the metrics had dipped, but one positive detail was hiding in there.

No fights in chat today. Aggressive messages were down too. And yet the viewer count roughly held steady…

Apparently charging head-on into the fights that had come walking in during last stream's Q&A had left some kind of mark. That was a good thing. In the end, a stream wasn't just about raw viewer numbers. Toxic viewers who poisoned the chat atmosphere only drove healthy ones away. Building a community that retained healthy viewers first was, long-term, by far the better play.

It's a shame the CP intake dropped a bit today, but looking at the long game, this is the right direction.

If I threw everything into pure hype-chasing and floating-viewer farming, the numbers on screen might look nice for a while — but nothing would be left standing later. Even the best food got boring if you ate nothing else, and hype was the kind of thing that plummeted the moment its momentum cracked. Especially this early, when the stream could still bend in any direction, what mattered was making people who would still be here after time passed.

"CP earned today… fifty thousand? No — a lot of subscriptions came in, so more like sixty thousand. I might need to hit the scrapyard again before the content runs dry."

Hwaaaah. I muttered that to myself, stood up from the chair, and stretched my arms high overhead with a yawn.

Normally my body was always brimming with energy, so I never needed stretches like this — but today a real fatigue had settled into my limbs. Paying myself as the cost of the Creation ability left worse aftereffects than I'd expected. Maybe… for the first time since becoming Nia, I was actually going to need sleep.

"…Stream over?"

While I was still pulling at my aching body and complaining about the fatigue, a pure-white-haired girl peeked her head out from the hallway by the front door and spoke up — as if she'd noticed the situation on this side had changed.

A transcendentally beautiful little girl. Even calling her a younger version of Nia wouldn't have felt off. That girl was Noise, the one I'd asked to stay out of sight while I was streaming.

"Ah. Yeah. Sorry, Noise. Making you stay in the bathroom the whole time."

"It's fine. I wasn't that bored."

Squeak, squeak.

In Noise's hands was a yellow rubber duck with orange lips. Apparently she'd been playing with it alone in the bathroom while I streamed.

Uh… yeah. A twinge of guilt hit me, but… there really hadn't been any other option. Suddenly putting Noise on stream would have been problematic in all kinds of ways.

Noise is ridiculously cute, so from a pure screen-presence angle she'd be fine… but not until my channel is more stable. Not right now.

Alright, think it through. As of today my stream was four days old and three episodes in. What kind of image did the people who came looking for me have of Nia?

Simple enough. A remnant of the Old Civilization. A silver-haired, purple-eyed transcendent beauty. A girl who called herself a Virtual Lifeform and an idol, and so on. But the most striking part of all that was almost certainly the silver hair that looked like it had been dusted with stars, and those purple eyes that pulled mystery out of thin air.

And Noise, of all things, happened to share that same silver hair — my personal color. So what would happen if she just popped up on stream with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠zero setup?

She'd swallow part of a character identity that still isn't properly established, and the things I can show on stream would get limited.

Put simply: character overlap. Once the audience recognized me as a one-of-a-kind existence, bringing Noise on as comic relief would be fine… but I didn't want her eating into my share while the foundation was still shaky. As Nia's number-one fan in this world, I would not allow that.

"Still, the bathroom's a bit much… I'll think of another way next time. Is there anything that's been bothering you?"

Streaming was streaming. There was zero reason to neglect her in ordinary life. I'd wrecked my own condition this badly bringing her back — the least I could do was make things comfortable for her. On top of that, she had a pure quality that matched her small appearance, and talking with her like this almost felt like having a little sister. Maybe switching from polite speech to casual after asking her permission had something to do with it too.

"Anything bothering me…"

"Even something small is fine."

"I'm hungry."

Growl.

The moment Noise opened her mouth, her stomach cried out. She looked as startled by the sound as I was, staring at me with the expression of a rabbit that had just been jumped.

"Pfft… Ah, got it. How hungry are we talking."

"…Yeah."

"Anything you want to eat? I just earned a ton, so I can make whatever. Just say the word."

"Um… sandiich?"

"You mean sandwich, right? Got it."

With her face faintly flushed, Noise spoke the word sandwich — the one we'd talked about once yesterday. A light meal of various ingredients tucked between slices of bread, bitten off a little at a time. Maybe because making one wasn't particularly hard, the recipe for sandwiches had survived intact even in this world.

I created a sandwich — ham, vegetables, and egg between two slices of bread — and held it out to Noise. The cost was about fifteen hundred CP. Not ultra-premium, but a perfectly ordinary sandwich with solid quality and a decent taste.

"Here. Hold it like this and bite from the end."

"Okay. …Nom."

Noise took the sandwich I handed her without a shred of suspicion and put it in her mouth. The taste must have suited her well. She started chewing with a smile that said nothing in the world could make her happier.

…C-cute.

It was overwhelming violence. If cuteness had combat power, hers would rank at the absolute top — I was certain of it. Reconstructed with Nia as the base, that destructive force was always going to hit me with lethal force. This was my oshi as a little kid. How was I supposed to dislike that?

That aside… Noise needs to eat. Unlike me. Why is there a difference like this?

A question suddenly surfaced. Why did Noise need food? Why didn't I?

Honestly, when I'd first learned that fact, I'd been completely baffled. Based on my own experience, Virtual Lifeforms weren't supposed to need to eat anything at all… so when Noise had suddenly tugged on my clothes and said she was hungry, I genuinely hadn't understood what she was talking about.

…I don't know the reason, but I've got a fixed CP expense now. Not that it feels like a waste.

She was cute, so I had no choice but to forgive it. And honestly, just having Noise around stabilized my mind and body to a degree — so it wasn't like I was taking a pure loss.

…Might as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠well get back to work. Things aren't fully done yet.

I watched Noise sitting on the floor, happily munching her sandwich, then rolled my stiff shoulders and stood up. Today's stream was over, but that didn't mean all the work was finished. I still had to plan tomorrow's content, figure out how to reach the scrapyard with minimal CP cost when I went hunting for material, and decide how to upload today's stream file. Truly busy.

I sat back down at the computer, used Creation to make a cheap ballpoint pen and a notebook, and started jotting down plans — then decided to start by editing today's stream.

Even so, giving up on edited videos entirely would feel wrong. Keep trying, keep raising the quality somehow…

I opened the editing program, loaded today's stream file, and clicked away with the mouse. Cutting footage, stitching it together, dropping in light effects — that part was starting to feel natural. But picking the right timing and the right presentation was still hard. It was a matter of sense, I supposed. Having something to use as a reference would have been nice, I thought without meaning to.

"Haa, this is tough."

"…What's this?"

"Ah, Noise. Finished your sandwich?"

Maybe because I'd been hunched over the computer groaning for a few dozen minutes, Noise slipped up behind me and peeked her face over my shoulder. She'd polished off the sandwich I'd given her and come looking out of boredom, apparently.

"Yeah. It was good."

"Glad to hear it. Ah, what I'm doing right now is…"

I gave a brief explanation to Noise, who was watching with open curiosity. To survive in this world I needed something called CP, so I streamed. As part of that streaming, I was editing a video.

Whether the explanation actually landed, Noise blinked a few times and stared blankly at the screen. Then she furrowed her brow so slightly you wouldn't notice unless you were looking carefully, turned her head back toward me, and spoke.

"…I want to try."

"Uh, huh? Sure."

What came back was a sudden declaration of entry. She wanted to try? No reason to stop her. I hadn't done anything particularly special so far, and handing over the seat wasn't a problem.

"Here, sit. You know how to use a computer?"

"…A little."

"Heh. Unexpected. Ever done editing before?"

"Not even once."

With a small sound of surprise from me, Noise hesitantly took the mouse in hand. The motion was awkward, but it was clearly the motion of someone who had handled one before. That was unexpected. Honestly, she hadn't even known what a sandwich was — I'd assumed she wouldn't know how to operate a computer either.

…Knowledge bias, maybe? Perhaps Virtual Lifeforms have some kind of survival instinct that points in this direction.

The way a giraffe could run across the savanna the moment it was born without being taught, or a honeybee could gather nectar without lessons. Apparently Virtual Lifeforms could handle computers without any learning process. Fascinating.

Alright, let's see how Noise edits… Huh? Wait—

With her tiny hands fixed on the monitor, Noise worked the keyboard and mouse. I could only stare at her in open shock. Because… the video taking shape under ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠her hands, piece by piece like a seasoned pro, was of a quality even a complete amateur like me ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠could tell was solid!

"Huh? Wha—?! No way!"

"…Nia."

"Ah, sorry."

I raised my voice in shock at a phenomenon that shouldn't exist by any common sense, and Noise — brow furrowed in deep concentration — muttered without even looking back. My voice had apparently broken her focus. I immediately clamped both hands over my mouth so no more sound would escape and stared hard at the monitor.

Th-this is… way better than mine! At this level I could upload it to the channel right now.

With that thought, I quietly watched Noise's profile as she worked the computer with intense focus, then carefully stepped back so I wouldn't get in the way. I sat down as softly as I could on the bed and stared into space.

Something… something about this feels like deprivation. Is this what a talent gap looks like…?

Noise had almost certainly never touched an editing program before. There hadn't been any sign she was lying. Which meant the way she was deftly using the software to craft a clever video… was pure, one-hundred-percent talent.

Still, I'm not getting jealous the way I used to, at least.

One thing had become clear here, though.

Noise was far more useful to me than I'd expected — and I might well have to put real effort into feeding her from now on.