The Strength of Heart I Never Had

I wanted to give birth to her. But what I always longed for was strength of heart.

It was fine if I didn't earn much money. It was fine if I wasn't popular. It was fine if people cursed at me. From the beginning, I had already received more luck than most. It was a blessing far beyond what I deserved. In truth, the woman named Kisaki Rinko was nothing more than an utterly ordinary person. Though people called her the face of EYEAI, she believed she lacked the talent to truly deserve that title. All she had done was debut as part of the first generation by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pure chance and somehow managed to hold on until now.

Of course, she was more skilled at games than the average person. But if you searched all across South Korea, there were surely people more talented, more entertaining, and cuter than her. People like the recently debuted Oh Lora, for instance. While so many genuinely gifted individuals remained buried in obscurity, was it truly right for her to enjoy such blessings simply because she had debuted earlier? That was the question Rinko could never resolve.

If she had debuted with another company, she would have undoubtedly remained buried as well. She wouldn't have earned much money, and she wouldn't have gained much popularity. Yes, she knew the saying that "luck is also a skill." She wasn't a child who didn't understand that the world wasn't fair. It was only natural that some people received more recognition than their abilities warranted, while others never received proper evaluation for their true talents. So perhaps being selected as an EYEAI first-generation member truly was Kisaki Rinko's greatest skill. But whether she could accept that fact was an entirely separate issue.

That was why she wanted strength of heart. Even if she couldn't earn much money, as long as she had strength of heart, she believed she could achieve anything someday. Even if she wasn't popular, as long as she had strength of heart, she believed she would soar one day. Even if people cursed her, as long as she had strength of heart, she believed she could overcome it. She knew that if she could simply maintain her center, she would succeed at anything. That was why she wanted the kind of strength of heart that would allow her to affirm herself.

But how could one obtain such strength of heart? Even now, in her fourth year, she still didn't know. If you wanted to train your body, you simply had to push your muscles to their limits. So why was it that no matter how much your heart was tormented, it refused to grow stronger?

Sometimes—no, every single day—she thought about how she wished she had been reincarnated into a martial arts world. If she could learn internal energy techniques, wouldn't she become a better person than she was now? But this world was neither a martial arts story nor a fantasy. It was a modern world where, if you looked out the window early in the morning, you could see people whose hearts had already been broken continuing on their way to work.

What could possibly mend a heart that had already been shattered? She still hadn't found the answer.

Chuseok was approaching. Sora had come over to visit.

"Aren't you going home?" I couldn't help but ask as I waited for my black tea.

Inagika had gone down to Busan. She was probably spending Chuseok with her relatives by ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠now. Chell had done the same, heading to Gangneung. Apparently her maternal grandfather lived there.

"Yeah. My family doesn't really go anywhere even for holidays. Dad said it was fine if I didn't come home."

Sora leaned back in her chair and casually fiddled with her phone. She was in the middle of ordering delivery coffee.

So in the end, the only ones not going anywhere were me and Sora. For me, the extent of my holiday celebrations was simply making phone calls to my family. The truth was, ever since becoming Aurora, my family had become somewhat uncomfortable to be around. I had memories of the time before I was Aurora, but they had none at all. That was why I tried my best not to touch the relationships I had formed before becoming Aurora.

In that sense, my personal relationships were extremely narrow. Practically speaking, the only acquaintances and friends I had were those connected to my life as a VTuber.

"Didn't you say Senior Rion was leaving too? If you stay here alone, you'll just make a mess of the place. And since I don't have anything to do either..."

She spoke as if she were my mother. 'Now that I think about it, a strange meme has started following Sora around lately.' The thought suddenly occurred to me, so I turned on my phone.

It seemed Sora really had become my mother. It was rather strange that Sora, who was technically younger than me, had become my mom.

"By the way, what is a 'voice pack'?"

"Voice pack? ...Wait, why are you even looking at that?"

Sora pressed the back button with an embarrassed expression.

"Voice packs are recordings of situational acting that people sell. Things like Valentine voice packs, summer festival voice packs, and so on."

"It's like doing a one-person play, I suppose."

"Exactly. Apparently it's pretty cost-effective."

All you had to do was record your voice and upload it to a download site. From what I'd heard, there were even cases where the VTubers wrote their own scripts. In those cases, labor costs were reduced, so from a company's perspective, it seemed like an easy product to sell.

"Since both of us have nice voices, maybe we'll get the chance soon."

"You mean yuri voice packs?"

"...Not those niche ones. I meant things like autumn voice packs or Christmas voice packs."

Compared to 3D modeling, voice packs were cheap to produce. As a result, it seemed opportunities to create voice packs were given relatively easily even to new VTubers with short careers like us.

"Ah, the coffee's almost here. I'll be right back."

Sora, who had been checking the delivery rider's location on her phone, stood up. As she left the room, the door soon opened again.

"Where's Sora unnie? Did she go to the bathroom?"

It was Rion. She was dressed in going-out clothes and even ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠had a suitcase with her.

"She went to pick up the coffee delivery. Are you leaving now?"

"Yeah."

Rion nodded. Ever since the 'horror game guerrilla collab,' Sora had started coming over often, and she had grown close with Rion as well. It turned out Sora was exactly one year older than Rion. So while Rion had initially called her 'Sora-ssi,' she had recently started calling her 'Sora unnie.' If Rion hadn't quit being a VTuber, she probably would have continued calling her 'Sora-ssi' even in private. After all, Rion was very diligent.

She would have wanted to avoid calling her junior 'unnie' on stream, so she definitely wouldn't have used a title like 'Sora unnie.' Although Nekozuka Rion hadn't completely retired, it seemed she truly had no desire to stream anymore.

"Are you going to make Sora unnie play horror games again today? ...Like last time?"

Rion narrowed her eyes as she asked. During the last horror game collab, I had accidentally revealed that I was making an MV, and I'd gotten scolded a bit for it. And not just by Rion—I'd also been scolded by CEO Jung Ho-young.

"Who knows? I don't have any particular plans for today, but since there are still so many horror games that Sora hasn't gotten through yet, I might make her play some."

"Isn't that a little pitiful...? Hey, is there even any point to playing horror games? In terms of improving at Labyrinthos, I mean."

Rion asked. Come to think of it, she had said something similar when I made them play Darkness Deception. That learning to be cold-hearted came first.

"It might have meaning, and it might not."

"What does that even mean..."

"It means that Sora has to find the meaning for herself."

That was what I said. She had probably learned at least a little bit of cold-heartedness. Horror games are scary the first time you play them, but as you repeat jump scares and deaths, you gradually get used to them. In the process, you gain composure. Especially when you're watching someone else play instead of playing yourself—you become even more objective. I thought she had probably picked up some know-how by now, but it would be difficult to create any dramatic change.

'It's strange to think that playing a few horror games would suddenly make you good at Labyrinthos anyway.'

Sora's problem was that she attached too much meaning to everything. For example, there were people who placed excessive importance on CS farming during lane phase or getting solo kills. They would overextend just to get one more CS, or take unnecessary risks for a solo kill. But that was looking at the game far too microscopically. CS and solo kills were ultimately just processes, merely elements that made up the game.

"I hope Sora stops attaching meaning to such small things."

But just saying it wouldn't make it easy to change. Attaching meaning to everything and feeling anxious was part of Sora's nature—practically a habit at this point. To change one's disposition, one either had to experience something dramatic, or realize an even greater meaning on their own.

"Don't push Sora unnie too hard. She's a friend you finally got close to. It wouldn't be good if the atmosphere turned sour. This is supposed to be a tournament where we all have fun together."

Rion said with a sigh.

"Winning the tournament or whatever isn't important. Since unnie isn't even participating directly, there's no risk of her reputation being damaged."

"I heard that last time too."

"So unnie just needs to focus on beating Senior Rinko. People are probably more interested in that anyway."

Having said that, Rion took out her phone.

"I should get going now. Try not to cause any trouble while I'm gone."

With those words, Rion left.

"Rinko, huh..."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

I muttered to myself.