The Lone Audition for the Final Generation
Once Auka's JP storyline wrapped up to a decent point, she said she'd head out first and just left. What a shame. As fellow outfit illustrators, I'd felt some real camaraderie. I watched her go through the door, smacking my lips in regret, when Tsupi called out to me.
"Then, shall we chat now?"
"Yeah. You said you had a ton of questions about the 4th gen outfits..."
"That, plus the recent 3rd gen outfit stuff you sent over. Anyway, tons!"
"Let's take 'em one by one."
Tsupi pulled out her laptop and showed me her memo app.
"The 3rd gen's new outfits are locked in as hanbok, right? So, what concept for the 4th gen?"
"I've got two ideas prepped." I popped the ice from my drained Americano into my mouth and crunched away. "Follow the 3rd gen with hanbok? Or go similar vibe—Japanese yukata or even Western style."
"Oh, I was thinking the exact same thing! Or we could pull a fantasy angle like the 1st and 2nd gens."
"Not a bad call, but I figure consistency's key here."
"Hmm. Tough one."
As Tsupi furrowed her brow in thought, a notification pinged on her laptop.
"Ah, hold up a sec."
"Mm."
Tsupi started typing a reply, then jolted back in shock at the content.
"Wha—what?!"
"What's up? Some kinda problem?"
"Y-yeah... a big one. Huge."
She clutched her head with both hands, groaning in frustration.
"Ughhh, why now of all times..."
"What happened?"
I leaned in to peek at her laptop, and suddenly it all made sense.
"Hang in there. You'll find good fits if you look."
"That doesn't help at all..."
She slumped forward, face-planting onto the table, then typed out a reply anyway.
"Gotta find people again... personality, skills, ugh."
I couldn't muster any real words of comfort for her gloomy vibe. The mood just hung heavy, and all I managed was a pat on her back.
"Reply's here."
"Already...?"
Another ping right after the one she'd just sent. I was bracing for round two of awkward silence, hand hovering to massage her shoulders, when—
"Huh?"
"What?"
Our eyes both went wide. The message announced that after this 11th gen, KR Maerchen Live wouldn't be recruiting any more VTubers.
Yeah, makes sense—they've got nearly 40 in KR alone already.
But the real shocker wasn't that.
This 11th gen? Just one person. The smallest previous gen had been three, but one?
"...Are they nuts?"
I nodded at Tsupi's mutter, though a wild thought crossed my mind. Maybe it was Maerchen's big plan: debut a solo act to hog all the spotlight. Business-wise, it could crush. But who the hell could handle debuting alone, with hordes of viewers from all the senior gens swarming in?
I shook my head at the dizzying image.
"Anyway, let's wrap up the 4th gen outfits first?"
"Yeah."
Thankfully, Tsupi shook it off and turned the screen back my way.
"Would've been nice if we had a fashion design major here."
"I'm comp sci."
"That's on you, Muil-ssi."
"Muil's listening and getting hurt."
The meeting dragged on, but Tsupi couldn't focus. Probably stewing over that last 11th gen slot. Things were fizzling out when—
"...Muil-ssi."
"Yeah?"
"You sing well?"
"Never even set foot in a karaoke joint."
Her eyes locked onto me with this weird intensity. It creeped me out a bit, so I glanced out the window—sunset already. Time to head home; I had work to do.
As I shifted to stand, Tsupi grabbed my shoulder.
"E-eh, what?!"
"C'mon. Karaoke."
"T-Tsupi-ssi?"
"Dinner's on me. Let's go~^^"
Hey, wait—
*
Under her piercing stare, I turned away. My hand trembled a little on the mic, but this wasn't the time to care.
She's kidnapping me. Straight-up kidnapping!
Tsupi's gaze on me was downright feral—like a lion spotting prey.
"You sing better than me, though?"
"No way."
"Come audition for us."
"Pass."
She latched onto my waist for real.
"Pleeeease~^^"
"W-wait, that's sensitive!"
She tickled my side mercilessly, and I caved with a nod. She grinned like she'd won the lottery. Is this a manager?
I'm already a Maerchen employee anyway... Sure, same company, but more like a department shuffle? My brain spun excuses, but honestly? VTuber didn't fit me at all. That gig needed raw talent—charisma, killer instincts, singing, dancing chops. Dance could slide if mediocre, but did I have charisma or instincts? Nah, just an illustrator who could barely draw outside her lane.
"Apply the second the notice drops. Or gimme your contact—I'll sign you up myself."
"...Yeah."
Well, at least I scored a girl's number in my phone. Score?
*
Back home, quick wash-up, then bed. No thoughts of work or anything—just the 11th gen swirling in my head. What to do...
Audition or interview, I had to show. Skip it, and I'd get some novel-length guilt-trip letter. Sigh. I ran hypotheticals.
11th gen: KR Maerchen's final class, eternal maknae. Could a regular person handle that spotlight? Endless eyes, crushing pressure from dozens of seniors watching. Actual streaming? Forget it.
And they're asking me to do it.
Haaa. Deep breath. Think positive: might not be me. Someone cooler, prettier, talented could show up. Fingers crossed.
Please...
Late evening hit before I could start work. Mid-line on the LCD tablet, if Tsupi's message hadn't come, I'd have finished polishing.
Paused per her request, took a break. Checked the Maerchen Live portal for the KR 11th gen recruitment.
Qualified easy. Time to burn? Plenty.
"Just scoping it out."
Acceptance odds? Basically zero. Go carefree, come back fine.
*
Way more people than expected...
Waiting room packed with women. I let out a relieved sigh at the absurd turnout.
Interviews split morning, noon, afternoon. I was morning batch.
Morning, and it's this jammed?
Tsked my tongue, hunting an empty seat—rush hour subway vibes, zero luck. Floor-sit? Nah, too much. Stood and waited.
"Next four! Numbers 1 through 4!"
Staff yelled; four women filed out. Normies mostly. Some chunky, some rough around the edges. A few idol-pretty types, but nothing mind-blowing.
VTubers don't hinge on looks anyway. Rigging is the face; outfits are the wings. Body type? What's that? Don't blur 2D and 3D lines.
Deep down, I rooted for every applicant here.
Someone else pass. Please.
Praying hard, my turn crept up.
"Next four, let's go."
Me plus three others left the room. The hall that looked short before now stretched forever.
No way they pick me, right?
That casual thought carried me into the interview room—where a familiar face waited.
Tsupi, one of the three interviewers. Stomach dropped.
No biggie, she won't slide me through just 'cause we know each other. Pros, right?
Like she read my mind—or had ulterior motives—she flashed a cryptic smile.
"Have a seat first. Mind removing the mask and hood?"
Not-Tsupi interviewer spoke; me and the other two ditched our masks.
Hiding this standout face...
Hood off too, and every eye snapped to me.
"Whoa, she's gorgeous..."
The girl next to me blurted it out. I flinched but played it cool.
Interviewers all gawking like idiots. Dying inside.
VTubers get picked blind to faces, yeah? Tell me yes.