Doyun's Acrobatics Don't End in Low Chat

Doyun's acrobatics didn't end in low chat. On the contrary, it was only after they dove into the game broadcast that Arine ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠truly understood how he had survived his hako days.

The game Doyun brought along was a jump-action indie co-op title. The objective was for the two of them to work together to carry a fragile glass to the destination without breaking it. It was a solid pick for a collab and the perfect choice for Doyun to generate plenty of laughs. The game itself was simple, but because it required tight cooperation, the difficulty was no joke.

“Ugh, Arine. Why on earth did you jump there?”

“Sorry… Hang on, Doyun, is that your temper flaring up? I’m your girlfriend, you know~ Cut me some slack~”

“You’re pretty, so I’ll let it slide just this once. Let’s try again. One, two.”

“No, Doyun. What are you doing? Why are you going left? You’ll fall in the water. You idiot?”

They bickered back and forth as they played. Then the old keyboard they were both hammering on began to malfunction.

“Why did you double-jump there?”

“It wasn’t me! This is so unfair. I didn’t press it twice—the keyboard’s broken.”

Because it registered a double jump when it was only supposed to jump once, Doyun’s character flew off in a weird direction. Still carrying the glass, he dragged Arine straight off a cliff and they both plummeted.

Incidents like this rarely happened on a large streamer’s broadcast. They replaced equipment before it aged too much, and most creators kept spare gear on hand. If it had happened to Arine, she might have panicked. But Doyun acted like this was completely familiar territory.

“Ah, okay! So the game’s messing with me because I’m too good? Fine. I’ll clear it using nothing but double jumps. Watch this.”

“You said the keyboard’s broken. How is that even possible?”

“Just watch. If I jump a beat later than you, the timing lines up. See?”

“Hmm.”

“What’s with that distrustful look? I’ll show you. Just trust me, okay? Jump on three—one, two!”

“Whoa! It actually worked. How did you do that?”

“See? I told you I could do it~! Again—one, two! Aaaaaagh!”

“You said it would work! You said it would work~~~~!”

With freakish reflexes and broadcasting sense, he had turned even an equipment defect into prime content.

Quite a bit of time had passed since they started the game. The main PC and capture card must have been overheating, because the frame rate began to drop and stuttering appeared. Even then, his response was extremely smooth.

“Is it lagging a bit right now? Yeah?”

“It is. It’s always been like this. The computer’s old, so I’m not sure what the exact problem is. It happens when I leave it on too long.”

“Oh, really? What do we do? Should we restart the stream?”

“No need. I’ve tried everything. Just resetting the driver fixes it instantly. I set up a hotkey in OBS, so if I press F5…”

The frozen screen blinked to black for a moment, then the game and broadcast feed flowed smoothly again.

“Ta-da. Back to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠normal. Sorry about that, everyone. There was a little hiccup, but we’re good to go again.”

From Arine’s perspective, it was simply fascinating. She usually relied on her manager or specialists for equipment setup and broadcast issues. She had almost no experience fixing problems on her own. Besides, the expensive, stable gear she used meant these kinds of breakdowns almost never happened.

“You even know how to do stuff like that? You were fixing the camera really well last time too.”

“Try broadcasting in an environment like this. You end up learning everything. If you can’t handle it, you can’t keep being a streamer, right?”

So that was why his reflexes were so good. Broadcasting in this kind of environment naturally sharpened them. Watching him calmly solve every problem by himself without getting flustered, Arine found it strangely cool.

In situations where anyone else might have lost their composure or let the broadcast energy drop, he handled everything smoothly. It gave her a glimpse of how he had managed to keep streaming for years in such poor conditions.

Amazing.

…Could I have done what oppa did if I were in his place?

If she had continued streaming in an environment like this—with almost no income, almost no viewers, without an MCN or a team like hers, without any specialist support—could she have stubbornly endured for four whole years on nothing but passion for broadcasting?

Maybe it was only possible because it was Doyun.

Glancing sideways at him as he smiled like nothing had happened and continued tapping the keyboard, Arine found herself lost in those thoughts.

The broadcast was over. It had run deep into the night, but time had flown by while she was with Doyun.

After saying their goodbyes and ending the stream, the two of them collapsed back into their chairs.

“Whew… I’m exhausted…”

“I should’ve ended right after the game, but I went and did the after-chat too.”

“What could we do? The viewers were begging us not to leave.”

They wanted to see more of the two of them together. Thanks to the viewers’ pleas, even after the glass-carrying game ended, Arine and Doyun had given them a full collab talk session. Only after sending off the satisfied, full-bellied audience did the pair finally slump down like this.

Arine subtly turned her head and looked at Doyun’s right arm and hand. She remembered how that arm had been wrapped around her waist during the game, and the memory made her strangely self-conscious.

To shake off the pointless thoughts, she tried to change the subject to work.

“So now it’s YouTube time, right? Wait, you don’t do YouTube? Then is today’s schedule over?”

“Ah. Yeah. That’s right. We can stop filming now. We usually just sleep after this anyway.”

“Got it. Then I’ll turn the camera off too?”

When Doyun nodded, Arine reached over and switched off the camera sitting on the table. The words had slipped out naturally because she usually handled her own YouTube work after ending streams. She kept the conversation going on that topic.

“But oppa, don’t you want to do YouTube?”

“YouTube? Why are you suddenly talking about YouTube?”

“You have so many funny highlight moments. I thought even if you just uploaded something like monthly highlights, the response would be really good.”

It was her broadcaster’s instinct. Thanks to the virtual marriage, Arine’s attention had been focused on YouTube lately, and she kept spotting ways Doyun’s entertainment value could be better captured and shared.

“Of course I want to. But you know how it is. Hako YouTube doesn’t make money. It’d obviously run at a loss.”

“That’s true…”

“It would be good for promotion, but I don’t have the bandwidth. And trying to do it myself on top of streaming is already too much, so I just can’t manage it.”

So he wasn’t uninterested. Because he rarely talked about YouTube, she had assumed he had no interest at all. Plenty of streamers whose main platform was live streaming didn’t pay much attention to YouTube.

But it seemed Doyun was the type who wanted to do it but simply didn’t have the resources. That was only natural. The editing team of several people she had would be an impossible expense for him to hire even one of.

Maybe I shouldn’t have asked.

Worried that it had been a tactless question, Arine checked Doyun’s expression. He stayed silent for a moment, then stood up from his seat.

“I’m going to the bathroom real quick. Are we eating dinner at home? If we’re eating here, I’ll order now.”

“Oh~ Oppa’s treating?”

“A guest came over. The least I can do is this much. Besides, the filming’s over, so you’ll send the appearance fee, right?”

“Pfft. Of course. I’ll make sure it’s generous. Don’t worry, oppa.”

“How about chicken? Chicken.”

“Chicken and beer? I’m craving a beer. Oppa, since filming’s done, how about some chicken and beer as an after-party?”

“Sounds ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠good~ As expected of Arine. Large streamers really know how to eat. Mhm.”

Doyun smiled brightly and eased the mood with a light joke. As always, that sense of his never failed him.

A single can of beer should be fine. Arine wasn’t particularly fond of drinking, but the relief of having wrapped up another filming made her want to raise a glass in celebration.

…This is my first time drinking with oppa.

They had streamed together many times, but this was only their second real-life collab, and they had never shared a drink before. So Arine felt a flutter of nervousness.

As Doyun headed to the bathroom while fiddling with his phone, she muttered to herself.

“I wonder if oppa holds his liquor well?”

Out of habit, she glanced at the computer monitor that was still on. A notepad file immediately caught her eye.

The title sparked Arine’s curiosity, and she hesitated for a second.

…Did oppa write this?

She wasn’t sure if she should look, but it didn’t seem like anything serious would happen if she did. It felt like it might contain some of Doyun’s embarrassing old stories, so she moved the mouse, wanting to read it so she could tease him later.

The lines he had written unfolded before her.

Most of the ideas had empty spaces beside them, as if they had never been carried out. Only a few had circles next to them—apparently marking which ones had been attempted.

And then, on the very last line, the sentence that caught her eye. It was scribbled like graffiti.

It was a lament from Doyun that made her chest ache.