Stream Setup (2)
The new nickname was simplicity itself.
Hana-chan.
Why had I changed it to Hana-chan?
Lucia didn't seem entirely sold on it. I had already made up my mind to use this nickname a long time ago, though. I was going to succeed not as some Japanese gimmick, but as Yukino Hana herself. So using my own name—Hana-chan—was the right call.
Of course, having my mind made up was one thing. I was still a little nervous. For streaming, a manager was an ally I absolutely needed—so having her accept it without a fuss would be so much better.
The reply came a little later.
As expected of a professional—her evaluation was harsh. I tried to take it as calmly as I could, but I couldn't help feeling a little crushed.
I'd been acknowledged. Even if it wasn't a perfect hundred, she had said it suited me. That made me even happier—it meant I'd named myself well, just as I'd thought.
"Heehee."
Hmm. Honestly, no.
As Lucia had said, the character—just like the nickname—needed to be crafted so it would actually suit me. The problem was that I was utterly hopeless at that sort of thing. To design a character, you'd need at least a minimum of drawing skill, and I couldn't draw. Not even a little. Doodling in textbooks had been a hobby back in school, but whenever I actually finished something, even I would sigh at the hideous little monsters staring back at me.
Well, illustrators were the professionals when it came to drawing characters.
With that, Lucia sent a link. It was a site that brokered commissions between artists and clients. When I went in and looked around, there were far more illustrators than I'd expected. I started browsing in earnest, checking out artists whose style I liked—the full-on weeb look.
"Ooh. Sugoi!"
Pretty pictures everywhere I looked. So Korea had this many gifted golden hands. I lingered especially over one artist whose work I loved, imagining Hana-chan drawn in that style.
"This is the one!"
A shiver ran through me. Like a resonance of the soul—my chest was screaming that it had to be this artist's work. I checked the reviews last, and they were glowing across the board. Well, nobody would hate receiving illustrations this pretty.
"Watashi's commissioning right this second!"
I didn't hesitate. I went into the order form.
"De?"
I blinked, then hit back. Went in again. Rubbed my eyes. I hadn't misread it.
"...30,000 yen?"
Three hundred thousand won. The commission fee for a streaming character. And that was the base rate with no options—add a background, a full body, accessories, and the price jumped a whole digit.
"Uso! What is this money-eating hippo?!"
I was already almost broke from buying the mic and cam. The biggest culprit, of course, had been that delightful shopping trip with Sea. To commission a character at a quality I'd actually be happy with from this artist, I'd be looking at at least four hundred thousand won. Then I'd spend the rest of the month starving, sipping tap water!
This was expensive—way too expensive! Put simply, it was about the same price as the Nintendo Switch I'd been seriously debating buying!
I immediately started whining to Lucia.
I showed her the link of the illustrator I'd been eyeing, and a reply came back soon.
Of course I wanted a character too, but I'd slammed into a wall of reality. Then would it be better to just use a cam? If I used a cam, I wouldn't necessarily need a character.
But showing my face still felt a little icky. More than anything, the fact that I didn't have a normal identity weighed on me even more. It probably wouldn't happen, but what if I streamed with my face out and someone who knew Yukino Hana showed up? Someone who knew Yukino Hana the Japanese woman the Status Window had created—not me?
I'd have loved it if the Status Window would firmly assure me that would never happen, but unfortunately it was keeping its mouth shut on the subject. If something like that happened even once, it definitely wouldn't blow over quietly. So until things were certain, I wanted to avoid showing my face carelessly.
In other words, streaming every day without fail and succeeding fast was the best. I knew that was ideal. But was there any other decent option?
Ooh. As expected of someone who'd worked as an editor at a big company—she had connections with illustrators too! Thanks to Lucia, it looked like this would work out. It was a sweet offer I had no reason to refuse, so I accepted immediately.
Whether she was hunting for the word ecchi or not, the reply came a beat late.
After that, no messages came for several minutes. She was talking it through, right? Anxious, I fidgeted, checking the chat window over and over. Lucia would handle it. All I had to do was trust her and wait!
About ten minutes passed. At last a reply came.
Looking at the chat-room invite, I swallowed hard. From here on, Lucia wouldn't be helping me? It felt like stepping into a dungeon.
Bolstered by Lucia's cheer, I entered the chat room.
The name itself was ominous. A nickname that called to mind something obscene. Just a coincidence...? Or had they chosen it on purpose. I hoped it was the former.
Ah, I'd mixed that up. Should I delete it? They'd already seen it all. I was done for. I'd tensed up at the critical moment and blown it!
I even lied, trying to squeeze out some sympathy.
Lucia.
Are you sure they won't make an ecchi request?
Then why do I feel so uneasy...?