You Shall Not Obtain the Crown (3)
"Yes. With that, charades goes to the Red Team."
"A ten-point lead for Red. Still, this was a warm-up as much as anything, so the points themselves are small. A gap anyone could close whenever they pleased, if you ask me."
"Then again, a difference that fine might be exactly what splits the match at the very last moment."
The opening, surprisingly enough, carried on without a hitch. It was the sort of minigame that turned up often enough on other VTubers' collab streams, and nothing unusual had happened in the middle of it. The two handling commentary had kept the broadcast moving just as smoothly — one of them seasoned enough to hold the highest subscriber count in all of Anathema Production, and the other, Han Seoyeon, already used to simple hosting after being put in charge of a few official streams.
"So, Shion. How did you find that last game?"
"Shutan was cute. I would like to express my thanks, here and now, to the staff members who put 'cat' up as the prompt on Shutan's turn."
"Exactly the reaction I expected…… Not that the staff intended it, of course."
One person acted the prompt out with their body, and the rest of the team guessed. Answer it, or pass, and the word changed; then the next in line stepped up to act out the new one. They rotated that way for three minutes, and because each team had settled the order among themselves, the staff had no way to control who would draw which prompt. That "cat" had landed on Mary's turn was nothing but coincidence.
Even so, it was obvious that clippers and kirinuki editors of every stripe were about to lose their minds. And it wasn't only Mary's impression of a cat. The prompts had been entertaining across the board.
The fun you can squeeze from a game like this is, to some extent, already formulaic: the cozy glow of cute aegyo, the laughter that comes from shamelessly silly movement, and the awe inspired by expressiveness and creativity beyond anything imagined. That last one wasn't a factor any third party could arrange, so most of the prompts had been chosen with the first two in mind, with a handful of Anapro-related words sprinkled in on top. Scenes worthy of being called clip material were, in other words, inevitable.
"Then let's move on to the next event. I hope the Red Team can keep this momentum going."
"You're in the same generation as Tachibana Rin, the White Team's leader. Are you really allowed to cheer for Red?"
"The commentator beside me has been blatantly biased toward White, so somebody has to take Red's side, don't they?"
Even Shion seemed to have nothing to say to that, and her mouth stayed shut. She had been trying her utmost to restrain herself, and still words of support for Mary had burst out on their own — three times already. "Only three" was far too kind. The first match, preparation included, had lasted barely ten minutes, and it had only just ended.
"…Aki, shall we just agree to commentate with our bias out in the open?"
"Even for you, Shion, throw neutrality away that blatantly and there's no telling what would happen, so I'll pass. Moving on, then — let's head into the next match!"
Props for the next event. At those words, Hitomi — Mary Tepes — turned her head. The structures installed all around the studio came into view. They had been sitting there, bold as anything, from the moment everyone walked in, so of course she had nearly jumped out of her skin wondering what on earth today's stream was planning to do with them.
A row of monitors had been set up along one side of the studio. Most of them were displaying the camera feeds going out on the broadcast, and one was enlarging the viewers' chat for everyone to see. The picture currently on air had, in keeping with the concept of the stream, a sandy field meant to call a school sports day to mind. Far in the distance, gray silhouettes simplified as far as they would go — anything to keep the load light — stood lined up like spectators, and a clear, transparent blue covered the sky overhead. Aside from the track lines drawn in white, though, the field itself was bleak and empty.
Into that empty space, colorful structures popped into being. Jungle gyms, monkey bars, and the rest of the playground equipment, then partitions, ropes, and platforms large and small, a few of each — set in exactly the same positions as the structures standing in the real studio.
"This really isn't something a VTuber ought to be doing, is it…?"
Mary's murmured words, her voice trembling, spoke for most of the viewers. Obstacles had been strewn all over the place, so she had figured they would be running around doing something or other — but that hardly made the absurdity any easier to swallow.
"Mary-chan. Define the limit like that, and virtual develops no further."
Tachibana Rin, expressionless as ever, rested a hand on Mary's shoulder as she said it. What came out of that mouth, however, was not something one could take in with anything like calm. It was a sound argument, looked at a certain way — which was precisely why it felt like something she must not concede.
"More importantly, isn't this dangerous?"
"True. All of that is money. A waste if it breaks."
"No — I'm talking about the people, not the props!"
At that, Rin tilted her head, expression unchanged.
"…Do they get hurt?"
"……."
Mary had no rebuttal. Aside from maybe three of them, the rest would be parkouring through the air up there anyway, and for some of that number, in a collision, you really would have to worry about the equipment before the person.
"Uh, hang on. Commentary. Viewers are asking about the attack clause — how's that supposed to work?"
"'For this event'…?"
An ominous feeling crept over her… but it was probably fine. So Yugure Tama told herself, and let it go.
…For a moment, she had forgotten that a bad feeling, in most cases, is not a sense one ought to ignore.
The defending side had thirty seconds to take their starting positions, and through all of it the taggers kept their eyes covered. Mary pulled off the blindfold the rule demanded and turned her head toward the one who had agreed to tag for the White Team alongside her — Iwabami Kyouka, whose real name was Ryuumai Fuu.
Once their eyes were open, they would have about fifteen seconds to stand still and get a quick read on the field. The clock they were competing against would start only after that. Even with the blindfold gone, the patch covering one of Kyouka's eyes remained, and that distinctive green eye swept the studio in a rapid scan.
"Oh, fuck—"
Something halfway to a curse had slipped out, which left Mary faintly worried — until she caught the reason, and the life went out of her expression. Yeah. That one, she could allow. The viewers would probably see it the same way and let it pass.
"Hellooo~"
The maid — that is, Mikazuki Umi — was hanging from the ceiling. For the studio shoot, so her movements would track cleanly, she had traded her usual maid dress for pants, though the frilled headband, for some reason, was still perched in place. Her legs were planted hard against both walls in a corner of the studio, and her arms braced the two corners of the ceiling at the same time, as if shoving them apart, locking her whole body fast where it hung.
"They made a bet, sure, but that bastard is actually going all out……"
"Uh, a bet? Kyouka-chan, what kind of bet did you make?"
"Whoever loses on today's final score crawls between the winner's legs."
"Then she'd pretty much have to be serious, wouldn't she…?"
They had put their pride on the line in the open and called it a war of mutual annihilation; not taking it seriously would have been the strange part. Mary said so with a wry smile.
"Anyway… if she's coming at it like that, there's nothing to be done. I'll mark Mikazuki Umi over there, and I'm leaving the rest to you, Mary-senpai. That all right?"
"Mm! Leave it to me!"
Mary nodded, and right after that the buzzer sounded to mark the true start of the game.
…This is seriously going to spit out an unbelievable number of clips.
She thought it the moment the sound reached her, watching someone take a running start and break into a sprint along the wall. The god-tier duel between the two third-gens had only just gotten underway, and it was already frightening to imagine how many clips were going to be cut out of it.
"…Um, Tsubasa-senpai? Could I ask you to explain what it is you're doing right now?"
"As you can see! I am doing! A handstand!"
"On top of Maya-senpai, you mean…?"
"When Lady Maya extends her arms all the way, that height clears 2.5 meters! A handstand on top of that puts the rear the tail hangs from at nearly four meters! Now that the physical monsters Lady Charlotte and Lady Umi have been sent to defense, there isn't a tagger on the Red Team who can reach up here! Kindly suck your fingers and wait quietly until those tails grow about a meter longer!"
"Ahaha, but I can't just lose on purpose, so sorreee~"
"Damn it. The ones running the walls were gentlemen next to this……"
Shirase Hikari smacked a palm against her own forehead.
This is the dignity of my Anapro seniors……?
The apologetic feeling she had been carrying — born of watching her two peers rampage at full strength without the slightest sense of the room — melted clean away, like snow.