Chapter 187: White, Green, and Blue (1)

Inside a tractor-trailer, rolling down the road.

"This is Shion-san, isn't it?"

Ninomae held out her phone as she spoke. The screen was open to one of Japan's anonymous thread sites, where the netizens were busy gossiping about the collab cafe—and where someone, amid all that chatter, had told a story about spotting "an incredibly scary-looking pair of women."

"Dark circles, a face that gives off something like killing intent just from looking at it... No, even setting that aside, a martial-artist type missing a leg would have to be the Ryuumai Fuu we saw yesterday."

A dark-circled woman with a chilling look might exist somewhere else. A scar-covered, one-legged woman... well, there might be one or two more of those out in the world as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠well. But if the two of them had been together, then it was all but certain to have been Seoyeon and Ryuumai—and all the more so if they had been speaking with the owner, who happened to be at the cafe.

"Yes. I believe they are talking about me."

Unless a doppelganger had chosen that very day to visit the collab cafe, the post was about Han Seoyeon. It was nothing she particularly needed to hide, and so she nodded.

"You didn't drag her there by force, did you?"

"I did not. Truly."

Mary's servant, or her fanatic. Even Seoyeon, who heard that sort of thing often enough, was not the kind of person to haul someone she had met for the first time today off to a collab cafe. Ninomae trusted that much. Having to deny it out loud at all left her with the faintly sour sense that her reputation sat rather low... but then, it was not as if she hadn't earned it.

"Ryuumai-san was the one who suggested we go. She turned out to be a Squire."

"Ah."

Squires. Just as Mary's fans were called her servants, it was the name of the fandom surrounding Amairo Tsubasa, who role-played a holy knight—and with that single word, no further explanation was required. A Squire charging into a collab cafe alongside a total stranger was nothing strange at all. Half of Tsubasa's fandom were eccentrics who would cheer whether she practiced calligraphy on stream or took a vow of silence.

"Then this was Shion-san's doing as well, I suppose?"

What she held up next was a single image: a photograph of the collab cafe's wall, plastered with the visit-commemoration signatures of Anapro's members. For some reason, even President Nakabashi's was among them. All except one signature that very clearly did not belong to anyone from Anathema.

Unlike what usually came to mind at the word autograph, it was a name set down in straight, careful strokes. Strictly speaking, it was a signature in the most literal sense—nothing but a name, written out.

"Yes. President Nakabashi said that since I had come all this way, I might as well plant a little foreshadowing."

"Foreshadowing..."

Well, an unfamiliar name tucked in among the members' signatures would certainly catch the eye. The thread was already spinning all sorts of guesses about it.

"So this is Shion-san's virtual name, then?"

"Well, yes."

"You'd already settled on a name."

If Han Seoyeon were to do anything official as someone connected to Anathema, it would have to be the virtual debut they had discussed before. No need to think twice: this was the stage name given to her.

"How do you read it?"

"Just as it is written. —Hinata Shion."

"Shion, is it."

"She said it was already more or less a stage name to begin with, so it would be a waste not to use it."

That could not have been the only reason. There had surely been some consideration for Han Seoyeon in it as well. To be called, out of nowhere, by some other name she was not used to would take time to grow accustomed to.

"What does the surname mean? It's a distinctive name... no, I mean it's distinctive in an Anapro way. It isn't a strange surname in real life."

At Anathema, VTubers' surnames were usually anything but ordinary; even a few letters of a name were made to carry the character. It was a tendency that turned up rather often at other VTuber companies, too. The surname Tepes, for instance, originated with Dracula—Vlad Țepeș.

"It seems they wanted to keep the existing nickname Natacchi alive as well."

"Ahh..."

"Her baptismal name is still set as Margarita, I believe, but Bartholomew would have been impossible no matter how one looked at it."

The nickname Natacchi, given to her by Mika Eru, was taken from Nathaniel, another name for Bartholomew. She could hardly role-play a VTuber as the Apostle Bartholomew, and so they had simply driven Nata straight into the name.

"Oh, I received the character sheet this time. Would you like to see it?"

"Really? I want to!"

Han Seoyeon had barely rummaged through her pocket before the phone was in her hand. One hand turned the wheel in an easy arc; the other unlocked the screen in a few quick motions and passed it to Ninomae.

"If you check the messenger, there should be an image file from the president."

"Mmm, ah, this must be it... Huh? This art style—is this my mama?"

"Yes. Most likely. I was told that, considering the connection with Mary, they deliberately decided to commission the same artist."

Ninomae's eyes lit up the moment she found the image Seoyeon meant. She was not speaking of the birth mother on any family register, of course, but of the illustrator in charge of the character.

Perhaps to preserve the old persona people had called Sister, the reference sheet had been drawn up with both casual clothes and a nun's habit. The design had not strayed far from the stiff-looking silver-haired woman usually rendered in fan art. What set it apart were the violet eyes: where ordinary highlights should have been, ring-shaped patterns had been set in, lending her an inhuman air.

"How do I put it. There's a strangely robotic feel... no, looking at the pattern drawn along the nape, is this the golem direction?"

"Yes. I am not quite on Guroyuki-san's level, but I am not someone whose expressions change a great deal either. And so it became a matter of committing entirely to stiff emotional expression."

"Mm. I can tell what they were going for."

Seoyeon herself was rather rich in feeling; it simply did not tend to show on her face. It was not that there was no change at all. Spend a little time with her, and you could read her well enough.

"Still, a golem—a human creation—being a Christian is a little ironic."

"Mm, well..."

At that, Seoyeon looked away. There was already a precedent in Abraham-Delta, who was even an active VTuber. Not that the president could have known of Abraham's existence and taken it for a motif—but it was a coincidence almost too perfect to believe.

"It's all right if I send this file to my phone, isn't it?"

"Yes? Ah—yes. So long as it does not leak onto the internet, I should think it is fine."

If Ninomae took the image, she would only admire it by herself, or pass it around to the other members.

"......"

Ninomae went on working Seoyeon's phone, and then, abruptly, she stared at the screen and sank into thought.

"Ninomae-san?"

"Ah, yes, yes. It's nothing."

"...?"

Puzzled by her manner, Seoyeon said her name, and Ninomae's shoulders jumped before she shook her head. It was truly incomprehensible. Seoyeon could not begin to guess what was supposed to be nothing, nor why Ninomae was still gripping the phone so tightly when there had long since been time enough to finish sending the image.

Then, as if she had made up her mind, Ninomae's expression firmed. She typed something in a rapid burst and handed the phone back. Busy with the driving, Seoyeon had not properly seen what she was doing—but it was Ninomae's own affair, and she would not have done anything that would cause Seoyeon trouble. Satisfied with that, she soon turned her attention elsewhere.

What caught the corner of her eye was the Anapro office building, still a good distance off. Their destination.

Today, at last, was the day of the first-anniversary group live concert.

The studio was already bustling.

Small wonder. The performers for this live concert numbered nine in all—which was to say, every member of the first and second generations. It was a show on a scale Anapro had never attempted, and so everyone was busy checking one thing after another, right down to the very last moment.

In a corner of that studio, in a makeshift lounge thrown together out of folding chairs, Ninomae sat. Or rather, given what the place was for, backstage would have suited it better. They waited here so that the moment their turn came, they could be sent straight on.

"Akane-chan, could you pass me that bag of snacks?"

"You here to perform, or to eat?"

Ninomae was not, of course, sitting there alone. All nine chairs, hers included, were filled, and the mood was noisy, everyone chattering about this and that. Ninomae wondered if they might be doing it on purpose, just to shake the tension loose. The thought did flicker past her, though, that she was not even sure these were people capable of feeling nervous. Most of them had mental fortitude that went past sturdy and arrived somewhere near complete.

Even Hyakurenno Yuri and Bansei Marin, for whom today would be a first performance, looked perfectly at ease. And if one asked the two of them whether they weren't nervous...

"Of course I'm nervous. But enjoying the stage with the nerves included—isn't that what a professional does?"

"Eh? Nervous? Why would I be?"

Thinking about it, that was only natural. One was a former idol more than ten years past her debut; the other was the young lady of Hyakurenno, who had stood in so many extraordinary places that pressure of this degree could be dismissed as a trifle. There was nothing to worry about where skill was concerned, either. Marin had made this her profession to begin with, and Yuri was the sort of person viewers begged to please, just once, do a singing stream.

And so the only one who looked nervous on the surface, aside from Ninomae, was Natsugahara Hina—VTuber name, Rokumondera Aki. Even that was less the tremor of a performance than the likely symptoms of her usual fear of people.

"A fox mask today. It's pretty."

"E-eep."

The moment Ninomae spoke to her, Hina startled and reacted with her whole body. She had not addressed her in order to torment her. Over chat the other day, Hina had asked that people speak to her first whenever they could, to help her get past her communication anxiety.

"M-mm. Th-that's... because it's a mask I like... so, um, a match mask...? Something like that..."

Today was an important occasion, she managed, answering as earnestly as she could even in a voice that shivered. Even this, the rest of her first-generation seniors watched with warm eyes, as though it were remarkable progress.

"Ah, now that I think of it, there's something I've wondered for a while... If you can't take your mask off in front of people, do you wear it for concerts too?"

Not only the mask. The week after next would already be June, and still Hina was bundled from head to toe. Ninomae could not help tilting her head. Did she truly perform like this?

"Th-that time it isn't me, u-uu, it's Rokumondera, so it's all right..."

That was the answer that came back. Whether the division of her persona was simply that thorough, or her professional pride was monstrously strict, there seemed little point in asking further. She probably could not have given a certain answer herself.

Ninomae turned her attention elsewhere. She took out her phone without much thought and found that airtime was already drawing near. Strictly speaking, a little of the broadcast still remained, but once she accounted for putting on her gear and preparing everything else for the live, it was about time she got up. Having confirmed as much, she hesitated a moment, then placed a call.

"Ah, Shion-san. We're about to start preparing for the live, so I called once before that."

While she still could, she had wanted to hear her voice ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠before going on. Ordinarily Han Seoyeon would have guessed as much and left her a few smiling words of encouragement. What came back over the line, instead, was a voice that sounded faintly troubled. Well, Ninomae had a fair idea of the cause.

"...Ehehe."

Ninomae only laughed—a slightly sly little attempt to pass off what she had done as nothing but cuteness. The reason for Seoyeon's reaction was simple. The name displayed on her phone would no longer be the original Ninomae, but this.

When Han Seoyeon had dropped her off at the company today, she had secretly changed the saved name.

"It's just, um... even if I don't actually call you that myself, I thought the contact could stand to be saved a little more affectionately... well, that sort of thought occurred to me. That's all. Really."

Having done it herself, she was a little embarrassed, and the excuse ran long. Honestly, it had been about half impulse.

"Nnh—!"

She had also, of course, failed to account for the fact that she was a glass cannon, liable to sink at the very first return shot. At a single word from Han Seoyeon, Ninomae's shoulders flinched.

"D-dropping the honorific all of a sudden is a little dangerous, you know...?"

"No, I mean dangerous for my heart. Yeah. I think we'd better take this part step by step after all."

Being called by a name she was never called sent a shivery feeling welling up from somewhere deep in her chest. Ninomae fanned her face with one hand for no good reason at all and put a stop to her.

"...I don't know."

A soft laugh came through the phone. Something about it made her sulky, and Ninomae pouted.

"Hmph, enough. I'm hanging up. I really do have to start preparing now."

"Still, um..."

She hesitated a little, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then went on.

Ninomae pressed a little ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kiss of a sound to the phone, as if her lips had met it, and then grinned at Seoyeon's answer coming back through the speaker. Simply receiving one and letting that be the end felt, somehow, like losing—so in the last precarious instant before she hung up, she blew one more kiss.

"...Ah."

Only afterward did Ninomae remember that she was not alone. Eight folding chairs besides her own, and the eyes of every Anapro member filling them were fixed on her.

"Should I start the wedding rice?"

"Hyaah?! No, this isn't—! I mean—!"

A brief silence. Guroyuki Sui tore through it, murmuring in her usual blank expression, and Ninomae, one beat late, flushed red as a beet.

From that moment until the broadcast began, it hardly needed saying that she was besieged by every question imaginable.