But a Pretty JK Girl, Humanity's Treasure, Gets Forgiven No Matter What She Does, Right?
I closed out the 150k celebration stream with Nacchan's Dotsumachi as the very last call, rested a little, and then went live again—an after-talk, this time, so I could read the Hyperchats I'd fallen behind on.
Back when I was a viewer, I always looked forward to the after-talk whenever a celebration stream came around. Now that I was the one who had to do it, it was an unbelievable pain.
Of course I was grateful. It meant people were actually paying attention to me.
But an after-talk is a chat stream in the end, and with my communication stamina scraped completely empty, it couldn't be anything but a chore....
"Um, uh, Mei-chan Is a Total Angel, EMP, Red Comet... th-thank you."
If there was a mercy, it was that this was a 150k celebration, so most of the messages said more or less the same thing. Congratulations on 150k. Please keep working hard on stream. Please give us lots of Calamities....
Wait. That last one was weird, wasn't it? No matter how I looked at it, that was not cheering me on.
"Ah, probably until eleven...?"
The celebration had ended at nine, and I'd started this one at nine-thirty, so eleven felt about right. Even then, I would have talked for a full three and a half hours in a single day. That was ridiculously impressive.
"Sorry, but I-I already have plans with my mom...."
"...And my opinion?"
"I-it does matter...!"
As expected, there were far too many weirdos among the Iztomo. Other members' streams had their share of strange viewers, but not like this. Why were so many of that type watching my stream?
I couldn't figure out the reason.
I'm not in the wrong.
"Uh, um.... PrettyJK, th-thanks for the red Hyperchat. I'll p-probably read them tomorrow?"
I hadn't forgotten. I'd fallen asleep in the middle of the endurance stream and never gotten to those Mycarongs, and I didn't think I could just abandon them forever. I'd even considered reading them on this stream, but the backed-up Hyperchats had to come first, so I'd let it go. I had to stream tomorrow anyway. I could read them then.
"Uh, Emily, Gudaguda, H-Hour of Reckoning, thank you...."
That aside, there really were a lot of Hyperchats. How many times a normal day was this? I'd already been reading for over thirty minutes, and a mountain of them was still sitting there. I wasn't going to get through all of them by eleven. A 150k celebration really was something, I supposed. Not that I was going to keep the stream going past eleven because of it.
"Y-Yakisoba, thanks for the red Hyperchat. Idiot. Pervert. Sh-shut up.... I don't know you anymore. There. Happy?"
"I don't wanna...."
I'd wondered for a long time why there were viewers who wanted to hear things like that. They liked me, didn't they? Wasn't it only natural to want to hear nice things?
Fine. Let's think it through. What if Nacchan said that kind of thing to me?
...Huh. It might actually feel a little nice.
Could it be that you Iztomo were pioneers?
I should ask Nacchan to do it next time.
"Everyone, thank you...."
"Haa.... I'm tired...."
Before I knew it, the clock read 10:50. Which meant it was about time to end the stream. Fortunately, I'd read every Hyperchat. More precisely, one last one remained. At first I'd been sure there was no way I could finish by eleven, but so many of them said the same thing that I'd gotten through them earlier than I expected.
...I wasn't going to want to do any talk-heavy streams for a while. The only thing worth lamenting was that tomorrow, because of the Mycarongs, I'd have to talk a lot anyway.
"I'll r-read this last one and wrap up...."
"S-Spirit of Stretching, thanks for the red Hyperchat.... I'll t-try my best so I can keep streaming, healthy, for a long time too.... And... hmm, I w-wonder if my elbows t-touch...?"
I barely exercised, so I didn't think I could. Well, they said that if you could, you were flexible and that was a good thing, so I might as well try.
"Hnnngh...!"
I hauled my shoulders inward as far as they would go. My elbows, however, showed no interest whatsoever in meeting.
"Hnnnngh...! Nnnnngh...!"
"W-wait. C-can these even touch?"
"Nnnngh...!"
This wasn't a question of being flexible or anything else. It seemed p-physically impossible.
"Haa.... I-I can't do this...?"
Was my body really that bad....
"Huh? Wh-what?"
"Ah...."
...One more piece of information I hadn't wanted just got added to the pile.
"Th-that's sexual harassment...."
...You couldn't reason with these people. A pretty JK was humanity's treasure, so no matter what she did, it was absolutely not a crime.
"...Th-then I'll see you next time!"
"Haa. I'm wiped...."
"Good work, Mina."
I ended the stream and came out into the living room, and Mom—tucked in the kotatsu, watching TV—waved at me. I nodded and slipped in under it as if that were the most natural thing in the world, resting my chin on the tabletop.
The warmth of the kotatsu was familiar by now. When my memories first came back, I'd been ridiculously delighted—a Japanese winter means a kotatsu and mikan, obviously!—and that, too, had settled into just another memory.
"Who do you think is going to win this year?"
"The red team, I suppose?"
On the TV, as if it could be nothing else, Kouhaku was playing—the Red-and-White Song Battle, that New Year's Eve institution. I don't particularly like Kouhaku, but Mom watches it every year. So spending New Year's Eve like this, the two of us in the living-room kotatsu, had turned into something of a standing promise.
"Mmm...."
If Nacchan were on Kouhaku, I might actually enjoy watching it....
"Mina, let's get you to bed. You'll catch a cold."
"Ah, okay...."
My head was fuzzy. Coming out of the kotatsu left my body cool, but I was already so mentally worn out that the desire to sleep didn't fade in the slightest.
"Sleep tight, Mina."
With Mom supporting me, I went into my room, lay down on the bed, and pulled the covers up. Close my eyes and I'd be asleep at once. Even so, I had to say this....
"Mom. Next year, too... please look after me."
"Mm. And you look after me, too."
Now I really have to sleep....