Who Are You?
I had been coming into the company studio two days in a row.
Now that I had decided to write a song built on acoustic guitar, the quality of the gear would decide the quality of the result—that was just an excuse. The studio was simply more comfortable than home.
Where else was I ever going to get to use equipment this high-end without limit?
Even the bathroom was better than the one at my place.
“I want to live here……”
The sofa was so plush that lying down on it felt like paradise. If I ordered food, the security guard even brought it all the way to the entrance. I lacked for nothing.
Having earned a decent amount of money, I had started wanting to buy my own gear. But…
Without a studio like this, just owning the equipment is meaningless.
Slap a fancy mic into a room with no soundproofing and all you pick up is the reverb. The structure of the room itself shapes the sound. Only a space on the level of this studio can make the gear worth its price.
Which meant what I ultimately needed was…
The kind of wealth that could buy an entire studio.
I had never been particularly greedy about money, yet a little drive stirred in me.
I’ll keep working hard from now on!
Even as I made that resolution, the project file open on my monitor sat a long way from any profit.
A song dedicated to the fans. A piece I would upload to YouTube under the name A-il. No thumbnail—just a black screen and the song. I planned to register the copyright and upload it quickly without waiting for an official release. So I had meant to work lightly and carefree…
Somehow I’m putting more effort into this than I did for Eumnya.
When I made songs for Lunari like the previous Black Cat or Eumnya, there had always been a clear direction—the drowsiness of half-sleep, an addictive hook, that Vocaloid sensibility. Right now everything felt a bit long-winded. I had been fiddling with a single guitar arpeggio for hours. This chord was good; that chord was good too.
The lyrics were worse. I wanted to write something that conveyed gratitude to the fans, but being too direct felt embarrassing. Twist it too cleverly and the feeling wouldn’t land.
Making something “just right” is really hard.
I kept drafting variations and combining them—centered on the image of the world beyond a window, a light touch of self-mockery, gratitude placed so subtly it almost hid. After plucking the guitar strings for a long while, I found myself leaning back into the sofa.
“So soft.”
Was this expensive too? I moved from the monitor to the sofa and kept working.
On the third floor of the Muse Family building, Kurogami Yui was having lunch with Han So-yeong and letting the conversation bloom.
“Iris likes games as a hobby, and her ASMR streams are really popular. Even with 1.8 million subscribers, she prioritizes live broadcasts over YouTube uploads, they say.”
“That explains the long gaps between uploads. Information I never would have thought of—as expected of Yui.”
Han So-yeong offered the praise over her lunchbox. Yui was the type who, even when she got prickly, would dance on her own the moment you told her she was doing well.
A formal collab request from a 1.8-million-subscriber VTuber had landed in Muse Family’s lap. The VTuber market was overwhelmingly larger in Japan; the agencies there were more specialized and far bigger in scale. Fandom culture was finely subdivided too—approach it without knowing the rules and you were guaranteed to mess up. Both the artists and the company saw it as a chance to grow, so they wanted to give it everything they had. Thanks to Yui’s cooperation, things were moving smoothly. She didn’t even ask for any special reward, which almost made So-yeong feel guilty.
“Aaah, it’s fine~ I get benefits too if we stream together, and I’ll grow so those Mellow guys can see! That’s the kind of mind I have.”
“Those guys really picked the wrong person to mess with. Poke a little hippo and it goes very… ah, never mind.”
“Huh? What did you say?”
“Nothing, nothing. It is a shame, though. Setting up VR when they receive an award isn’t even hard, and they could have just recorded it.”
“Right? I even stood on stage at M Countdown, so what’s so difficult about that, hmph.”
Exactly. It’s not that they can’t—it’s that they won’t.
So-yeong had never planned to demand a stage, but being turned down first left a sour taste. Zero confessions, first to take the blame, maybe. Since Yui was doing the complaining for her, she didn’t push it too hard.
“Well, Yui’s stage was never going to happen anyway, so don’t feel too bad.”
“What?! Why not?! I want to stand on stage toooo!”
“Haha.”
So-yeong playfully teased the pouting Yui while packing up her lunchbox. Then her phone rang.
“Huh? It’s M-Town.”
While Yui stared with a “what’s that?” face, So-yeong stood and stepped a short distance away.
“Yes, this is Han So-yeong, manager at Muse Family.”
“Ah, hello. I’m calling about something important.”
“Yes, yes.”
“Next month, MAMA will be held at a dome stadium in Japan.”
“…Excuse me? Yes.”
“We’re internally reviewing whether Lunari could perform on that stage. Nothing is officially confirmed yet, but we’re checking schedules. Would you be able to prepare a stage within a month?”
So-yeong sucked in a sharp breath without meaning to. Just moments ago they had been trash-talking Mellow, and now a proposal for an even bigger stage had dropped.
“…MAMA?”
“Yes. Eumnya exploded in Japan at just the right time. Two stages—Black Cat and Eumnya—would be ideal.”
In the past she would have answered carefully, saying they would review it and get back to them. This time she didn’t feel like doing that. VR map, costumes, choreography, direction—everything would be hectic, but…
We have to do this.
Do-yoon would help, and ending the year without something this big would feel incomplete.
“We’re completely positive. I’ll contact you again within a few hours.”
“Excellent. Let’s work out the details in a meeting.”
When she hung up and returned, Yui was staring at her with sparkling eyes.
“What is it? What is it? It sounded interesting!”
“Mmm, suddenly the Mellow performance doesn’t feel like much of a loss. First I need to talk with Nari, and once we decide, we’ll have to move right away.”
“Huh? Move for what?”
“We just got an offer for a MAMA stage. In Osaka, Japan.”
“Heeeeeeh?! MAMA is basically the Asian Grammys!!”
“Yes. Honestly it’s for the best—preparing a Mellow stage on top of everything else would have been brutal.”
While Yui’s eyes glittered, So-yeong hurriedly gathered her things.
“Sorry. Could I leave the Iris collab side to you for a bit? I need to make calls while I’m on the move.”
“Of course! Leave it to me!”
“Thank you.”
“If you’re grateful, put me on a stage too!”
“…I’ll try.”
She never gave confident answers when she wasn’t sure. As she left Yui behind and stepped out of the office, one more thing suddenly came to mind.
Ah, right.
Kim Do-yoon was here today. She didn’t know how long he planned to borrow the studio, but it was already day two. She had meant to tell Yui, but with everything else going on she had completely forgotten. Do-yoon might feel uncomfortable, so she needed to keep people out of the basement. She was already outside the building, though, and going back would be a hassle. Maybe just a phone call…
“Where are you going, Noona?”
“Oh! Perfect timing.”
She ran into the freeloader Park Gi-dong, who was just returning to the company.
“Gi-dong, when you go up to the office, tell Yui that Composer Yeong-il is here and she should be careful.”
“Eck, I was about to head straight home.”
“Hey! How long are you going to keep being awkward about it? You’re the one who messed up.”
“It’s not really because of that. He’s basically a celebrity. It’s hard to relax around him… Ah, fine. I’ll pass it on.”
One glare from Han So-yeong and Park Gi-dong folded immediately.
She growls at me just for getting near her…
After So-yeong left, Gi-dong entered the building—and instead of going to the office, he stretched out in the break room, his personal sanctuary.
I’ll just mention it when I go by later to make copies.
And then he fell asleep.
Yui had eaten a delicious company-funded lunch and opened her laptop. She translated the email Iris had sent, organized the concept discussion materials, and checked the correspondence with the Japanese promotion company. After about an hour of translation work, her shoulders started to ache.
I’m a streamer—why am I doing this?
A mild existential crisis hit, but the company had taken good care of her and Han So-yeong had asked so earnestly that she kept at it diligently. Still, even hard workers needed break time. For a change of pace she stepped outside the building.
A chilly wind, already tipping toward winter, brushed her cheeks. The neighborhood was still unfamiliar, full of interesting buildings worth looking at. She craned her neck at tall structures and peeked into pretty cafés. After a short stretch of sightseeing she quickly turned back. With her short legs the distance was already quite a walk; she was low on stamina, cold, and might get lost if she kept going.
“Ah, dummy! I forgot.”
The moment she reached the company she smacked her own forehead.
I was going to stop by the convenience store!
Going back already felt like too much for her legs, and she was lazy about it.
Ah, whatever. Just go up.
She entered the first floor of the building and was about to head for the third when—
“…Ah!”
Han So-yeong’s words from that morning came back to her.
—Snacks? We don’t keep any in the office. Nobody eats them except Gi-dong, so we never stocked them. Nari asked for some, so we put a box downstairs. With more staff coming in, we should probably keep some in the office too.
Right. The basement studio. There were snacks down there.
Yui clapped her hands together.
“I’m a genius—”
A walk outside plus snacks on the way back. The perfect afternoon schedule. Her steps toward the basement were light. Lululala~
She stopped in front of the door and was about to punch in the code when she hesitated.
What was it again?
She had gone in during a recording session, but the numbers were fuzzy. A few digits were mixed up. Eh, she went with her gut.
Beep—ding-a-ling.
Correct on the first try.
“Yep, genius confirmed.”
Looking proud of herself, she opened the door and stepped inside.
Huh?
The lights were on. Had the last person forgotten to turn them off?
“Sheesh, do you know how much electricity costs these days? Frugality! …Frugality? Wait, is that the word?”
She muttered to herself as she walked farther in. Something felt off. Traces of someone who had been working were still everywhere. The monitor was on. A project file sat open in the DAW. Lyric notes were scattered across the desk. A pen rolled around with its cap off.
“Is someone here?”
It was far too quiet for that. Yui craned her neck and scanned the room, but there was no sign of life.
Snacks first.
That was why she had come, after all. She padded softly over to the snack box and rummaged through it.
“Ugh, what is this.”
Mint. Mint. Mint.
“Bleh.”
She had known, but Yu Nari’s taste was truly unique. Yui hated mint. She would rather drink water than put toothpaste in her mouth.
Isn’t there anything else?
Maybe the mini-fridge had something different. She took a few steps—and something caught at the edge of her vision.
The sofa.
On the sofa that should have been empty, a human-shaped something lay stretched out long.
“!!!”
Startled, Yui clamped both hands over her mouth. She had almost screamed. A corpse?? Her heart hammered.
W-wait. It can’t be a corpse.
Looking closer, the shoulders rose and fell in a gentle rhythm. Asleep. She let out a long breath of relief. But who was it?
Unable to contain her curiosity, she rose onto her tiptoes and approached slowly. Half the face was hidden by an arm, so she couldn’t see clearly. A little closer. One more step. She angled herself and peered at the face—and the moment she did,
“Hic.”
This time a tiny sound slipped out before she could stop it. An extremely girlish scream, one she herself had never made before.
“Uh-uh-uh…”
Afraid the sound might wake him, she slapped both hands back over her mouth. The face of the man on the sofa was… excessively, devastatingly to Yui’s taste.
Pale skin, a sharp jawline, eyelashes that rested softly. The forehead revealed between tousled bangs was smooth and luminous. Beneath a clean bridge of a nose, slightly parted lips exhaled slow breaths. Something of a boy still lingered, yet the lines of a grown man were already mixed in—an impression so fatal she had no words for it.
Yui’s feet were nailed to the floor.
Who is this person?
Her mouth hung half open. The mint box she had just seen vanished completely from her mind. She simply stared, dazed. Whether seconds or minutes passed, she could not tell. Then—
“Mm…”
The man on the sofa shifted slightly.
“Huk!!!”
Yui jolted backward in pure shock. She bolted for the studio door, then flew up the stairs clutching her pounding heart.