An Entertainment Agency?
An entertainment agency?
This is so embarrassing.
Kurogami Yui thrashed around on her bed.
To think she'd sobbed her eyes out watching a teaser.
She'd loved the song itself from the first listen. But it was a far cry from the harder, blood-pumping band sound she personally preferred. So she hadn't expected it to hit hard enough to draw tears.
And yet the moment she saw the finished product, a surge of emotion rose up and she couldn't hold it back.
"Unnie, you okay?"
"Yeah. Ahem! It's nothing. I was just overacting 'cause it's a stream."
"Hmmmm? Really? You've got a talent for acting. I almost fell for it. I thought you were about to dehydrate."
"……Obviously."
Yu Nari must have watched the stream, because she'd called to congratulate her.
"Since it's an OST, does that mean they'll put out a proper video later, like a music video?"
"Yeah. Edited together from drama scenes."
"Wow, I'm a little jealous. My song came out in a rush, and I didn't know if it'd do well, so all I got was a simple photo."
"Hehe, it's an OST, so I'm not actually a character in it! But you're going to do a music video for your next song too, right? Your company takes really good care of you."
Word hadn't gotten out yet, so things were still quiet—but how many agencies in the industry actually supported optical motion capture? With that kind of budget, a music video was nothing.
"I don't know? That still depends on getting a song first… Ah! I shot a commercial recently—maybe a music video feels like that?"
"Probably similar? Ours are usually animation, though."
"I even got an avatar quality upgrade for the ad. Want to see?"
"Yeah, show me, show me. I'm curious."
"I'll send it. But per the advertiser's request, the ears and tail are temporarily gone."
Yui opened the photo Nari sent right away. It was a concept image for a delivery-app commercial, and the upgrade to Lunari's avatar hit her immediately.
"A school uniform. She's pretty……"
The admiration slipped out before she could stop it. The angle of the smiling eyes, the way the hair flowed in the wind—everything was smoother.
"What do you think? I'm going to use this on stream too! I think our manager has a talent for torturing artists."
"It's good……"
Virtual avatars only got prettier the more money you poured into them. Touch them up too aggressively and viewers' brains couldn't keep up, so the real skill was changing them slowly, bit by bit. As someone who'd been through avatar "surgery" more than once or twice, Yui could sense that careful difference at a glance.
Which brought her to a thought.
They must have spent a fortune.
If this were a streamer MCN, there would be no reason—and no need—to do that much. Investing in an avatar was usually the individual's job. What a normal MCN provided was landing decent ads and splitting the revenue, or managing outside noise so a streamer could keep broadcasting steadily. That was the extent of it.
But the relationship between Muse Family and Lunari was a little different. Lunari was a streamer, yes, but she was also an artist who brought the company music revenue—and the company, in turn, made her activities easier. Thanks to that virtuous cycle, Lunari was growing by the day.
Yui needled her a little, just to be petty.
"Nari, though—your chest got flatter. Where'd the song money go?"
"……What kind of crude thing is that to say. The advertiser wanted something demure, so I got censored. It was a decent size to begin with, you know. ……I'm growing them back for personal streams. Hmph."
No—they landed good ads for her. Released music. Upgraded her avatar. Owned a mocap studio. And it wasn't like they took a cut of her streaming revenue, either.
With backing that solid, it was basically an upgraded MCN. Was there any need to bother contacting other places?
Even as an entertainment agency, it seemed far better than an MCN.
Kurogami Yui had always been more interested in this side of the industry, and when she looked at it coldly, she realized there was no need to go hunting for candidates far away.
Of course, that only worked if the other side would take her.
"Nari, Nari—is your company taking people, by any chance?"
"Huh?"
"Any interest in picking up one unaffiliated indie streamer……"
"Ah. Our company?"
Muse Family's current artist roster consisted of only Lunari and A-il. Since Yui knew A-il was Yeong-il, she might as well treat her recently close friend Lunari as Muse Family's sole artist.
So she might as well cash in a little on that friendship.
"……Hmm."
She'd asked boldly enough, but as Nari's words thinned out, her heart started pounding.
Ah. Right.
A memory flashed, and Yui hastily piled on more words.
"I'm genuinely interested in your company, okay?! Not because I want songs from Composer Yeong-il or because I'm trying to hit on him or anything like that!"
"What are you even talking about all of a sudden. Who said that?"
Remembering Lunari's old territorial streak, Yui was clearing the landmines first, just in case.
"I was just thinking about how to put it, and now you're going off on weird misunderstandings…… Fine. I'll pass it along."
"Thank you!"
While Yui went limp with relief, Nari muttered something too soft to catch.
"………Unnie did say faces matter more anyway, so you two won't even have reason to see each other."
"Hm? What? I didn't catch that."
"Nothing! Being under the same company would be nice too!"
"You seem especially cheerful today. Is it because the ad photos came out?"
"Hmm? Do I? I feel the same as always."
Nari had sounded happy from the start of the call. Yui had thought it was the avatar upgrade, but that didn't seem to be the whole story. There was a buoyant edge to her tone that suggested some other reason.
Just as she was about to ask—
"Ah! Unnie, I've got to head out now!"
"At this hour? Where?"
"The convenience store!"
"Huh? The convenience store??"
Beep. Beep. Beep.
She hung up.
Was going to the convenience store really that exciting?
Yui stared at her disconnected phone in bewilderment.
Wallet secured. Mask on. Cap ready.
Good.
I pressed my ear to the door and listened for any sound outside. After a full minute of stillness confirmed the quiet, I opened the door, crossed the dark living room, and headed for the front entrance. It was to avoid the disaster of running into my little sister again—or having my parents spot me—and then having to explain myself.
The destination was a place I'd been to once before. A convenience store about a four-minute walk away. Even the time of day was similar to my first visit, which put a little more confidence in my steps.
The reason I'd come outside today was to buy one food item from the convenience store.
Yu Nari's Kim Do-yoon Rehabilitation Project, Phase One: Conquer the neighborhood convenience store.
We'd each agreed to buy a new menu item from our local convenience stores and try them.
What was I supposed to get again. It was some shocking combination.
I'd forgotten the exact name, so I pulled out my phone and checked the message.
People actually bought this stuff?
And why was everything mint chocolate, I wondered—but since I'd never actually tried the famous mint choco myself, a faint spark of curiosity was there too.
They say people who like it only ever eat mint choco.
I was curious.
The convenience store I reached quickly looked the same as before. Late as it was, there were no other customers—just a part-timer sitting blankly at the counter. The door chimed as I stepped inside. The clerk flinched, but the comfortable distance of no greeting suited me just fine.
New products are in the fresh section, she said.
I scanned the area briefly and found the fresh section right near the entrance. Let's see. Not this. Oh—peach pudding? That looked good. I browsed the snacks here and there until I found the exact word combination I was looking for.
TS! Mala Mint Choco Fatcaron!
This is it……
Was it really right to grab this and leave the peach pudding right next to it behind? Then again, there was no rule saying I could only buy the new product, so I picked up both and headed to the counter.
Same as when I'd come for beer, the employee was a woman. The last time I'd crossed paths with women at a crosswalk on the way to the company studio, I'd been shaking. But at a convenience store, even with a female clerk, I'd been fine. Probably because she was trapped behind that counter.
Like a pet dog on a leash.
Comparing a person to a dog felt a little rude, but nothing better came to mind.
I set the items down on the register.
"……O-oh, that'll be five thousand two hundred won."
I took out the card I'd already prepared and slotted it in. A machine beep confirmed the transaction. I retrieved the card and was about to grab my things when—
"Ah, …um …I-I'll bag those for you."
An extremely kind clerk. She even packed them for me. What a nice convenience store.
"Th-thank you."
"……Y-yes."
I managed to match the pitch of my gratitude just enough, then left the store. I hurried home, spread the snacks out on my desk, and called Yu Nari.
"Oh! You're back? I just bought mine too."
"I got the 'Mala Mint Choco Fatcaron' like you said, but the way it looks is kind of……"
"Hold on, let me take a picture first! Okay! Let's eat!"
I tore open the wrapper and picked it up. The faint spice scent that rose from it only amplified my unease.
Ah, whatever.
Crunch.
I boldly bit off half.
Chew, chew—hm? It's tingling, but also…
A burning, prickling afterimage wrapped around my tongue, and then something cool and sweet spread through my mouth.
In other words—
"Bleh."
What even was this flavor.
"Mmm! So good! This new release is a success, I think?"
The chewing sounds coming through the phone suggested she wasn't lying. Nari's tongue must have been broken. I immediately pulled out the peach pudding I'd bought alongside it and put some in my mouth.
Yeah. This is right.
Mint choco—never again.
Once our satisfying snack time was over, Nari spoke up.
"Not a fan? Hmm, is it the mala flavor? Want to try pure mint chocolate next time? It's even better as ice cream."
"It tasted like toothpaste."
"Ah-ah. It's not toothpaste-flavored—toothpaste is mint-flavored. That's how good it is."
"Is that how it works?"
"Yep. Next time I'll recommend something delicious."
Watching Nari polish off that piece of waste with such satisfaction earlier didn't exactly inspire trust, but I nodded obediently anyway.
And just like that, day one of the Get Used to Society Project came to a close.
"Kurogami Yui?"
"Yes. The VTuber who came as a guest for Lunari's concert before."
"I thought she was a high-profile s-streamer?"
Kim Hye-min, on the phone with Han So-yeong, made no effort to hide her puzzlement. Was it because they'd secured VTuber support from IG? Expanding recruitment like this hadn't been the plan.
"If So-yeong wants her, then let's take her, yeah?"
"What? No—does my opinion even matter here. You're the representative. You should decide."
"S-should we take her?"
"There's no reason not to…?"
"Then let's sign her?"
"……Fiiine."
So-yeong's dissatisfied answer came back against Hye-min's passive attitude, and then the call ended.
It couldn't be helped. She felt bad about creating a label and then abandoning it, but she was leaving anyway.
"Sorry, So-yeong. I'll give you the company instead."
Hye-min muttered to herself.
From the start, this independent label had been a company built solely for Shin Se-young. The two of them would leave IG and make music together—no interference, only what they wanted to make. That was the picture she'd painted. And then……
"Huh? I actually like working at IG? The CEO is nice, and I've gotten close with the staff too."
The moment Shin Se-young refused, everything fell apart. The label had become meaningless. Months of neglect followed.
Then a strange kid caught her eye. At the graduation ceremony of Prism Tree—the group Hye-min had once created—this one had butchered the original material as thoroughly as possible and plastered his own colors all over it. An unusual boy.
Having found a talented youth, Hye-min had intended from the beginning to snatch him away before IG could recruit him. She'd had several plans, but through an unexpected route she'd made contact with Lunari—and brought him into Muse Family with almost ridiculous ease.
For the boy: the musical freedom the past Hye-min had never had, free from being jerked around by adults. For the neglected label family: a talent who could keep the company fed. Having achieved both goals, Kim Hye-min no longer had any attachment left to this label.
I should hand it over soon.
She stood up from her seat.
"Ahem. My throat hurts today."
Of all days, today had been full of talking from morning to night, and she was exhausted. Having to stutter on top of it made things even worse. The only times Kim Hye-min spoke normally were when she was alone, or when she was with Shin Se-young. Those two situations only.
Next time, what kind of mood should I pitch to Se-young for a song?
The thought of being able to offload one more burden made her shoulders feel remarkably lighter. Kim Hye-min hummed to herself as she headed for the restroom.
But there was one thing she failed to predict.
Shin Se-young may not have transferred to Muse Family as an entertainment agency—but she was deeply interested in the Muse Family that VTubers had started joining. And her love of VTubers was not going to end at mere spectating.