The First Half-Cam Stream, and...
I'd missed a week of school to a fever. It had been a good long while since I'd gone in, but nothing much ever happened there anyway, so the day itself was uneventful.
If someone asked what was different before the break and after, the answer was the person sitting beside me now—my deskmate, Han Seongun. Until today his routine had been to sprawl out and sleep the moment he arrived, so he'd barely registered. Whether this morning was a fluke or he'd become an entirely different person, he'd shown up with his head on straight.
That alone was no reason to notice him. The problem was the feeling that he kept sneaking glances my way. It was only a feeling, so I couldn't very well snap at him for staring, and annoying as it was, I let it slide. I wouldn't be at school much longer anyway. The day's classes were already finished. We'd be parting in a few dozen minutes. No point caring past that.
Once sixth period ended, the homeroom teacher came in to dismiss us.
"All right, everyone quiet~ If you want to get home fast, listen up~"
During morning homeroom, before first period, the teacher had stopped by to see me after I'd missed a fairly long seven days, and the way they treated me had changed quite a bit. Before, they hadn't seemed to care about me at all. Today they were trying much too hard to be kind, fretting as if something might make me uncomfortable. Why were they like this?
"E-everyone, don't wander around outside. G-go straight home?"
Look at that. We'd only just met eyes, and they were stuttering.
Did something happen while I was gone...?
Well. It wasn't really something I needed to worry about.
The teacher ran through the usual lines—don't wander around outside, go straight home—and ended homeroom on the spot. The kids welcomed a dismissal that had come so quickly, chattering about true teachers and a teacher's grace and whatever else.
"Yes, Driver Kwon, where are you? It's already over? Yes."
Of course I was no different from them.
School is so boring... I just want to go home and play Project A...
Home again in Driver Kwon's car. Whether his driving was that good or the ride itself was that smooth, I got noticeably less carsick with him than in any other car.
"Thank you."
"Yes."
That didn't mean I felt no dizziness at all. I clutched a faintly spinning head and opened the front door.
"Eunha, you're home?"
"I'm back."
The housekeeper, there to greet me. If anything had changed from the male Choi Eunha of my pro-gamer days, it was the people around me. Driver Kwon, and the housekeeper—both of them either hadn't been beside me then, or had already gone.
"How was today's lunchbox?"
"The best, obviously. I've gotten so used to your cooking I don't think I can eat school lunch anymore."
In truth I had never eaten school lunch even once. First, I didn't want to draw attention in a cafeteria where that many people crowded together.
"Aigoo, this child lays it on too thick. Still, thank you for eating it so well."
Second, my palate had been trained on the housekeeper's, and where Korean food was concerned I'd grown rather picky.
"It's not flattery. Of every meal I've ever eaten, yours really are the best."
I could thank her a hundred times for the delicious food she made and it still wouldn't be enough. Eating her cooking had long since become one of the joys of my day.
I was heading for my room on the second floor in that warm mood when—
"Oh my. So the meals I cook don't taste good?"
A woman's voice, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
"Huh?"
My mother's.
"Daughter. Not even a hello for Mom? I'm hurt."
Her face really did look hurt. Fair enough. Her daughter had greeted the help first, then tried to walk straight into her room as if she'd forgotten her mother was standing there. Even if work had kept her apart from the family, I couldn't begin to imagine how it felt to watch your own child look after a stranger—not a drop of shared blood—before you.
"Uh... I..."
It might sound like an excuse, but I had forgotten she was home at all. Mother had quit acting. There was no official retirement announcement yet, but she was effectively without a job. Father's strict upbringing had beaten me into a walking lump of Confucian propriety, and I had made a mistake like this. Idiot...!
"I-I didn't mean to...!"
I had to soothe her somehow, and I had no idea what to say. My scramble to lift her mood—and the worry that the scramble had been unnecessary—broke when laughter she couldn't hold spilled out of her.
"Pfft..."
"Huh?"
A moment ago she had worn a thoroughly wounded face. Now she was laughing at the sight of me.
"That cold face, all in a fluster—you're exactly like your dad, daughter."
Looking at her, I thought it.
Ah. She got me again.
"...That's too much, Mother."
"Hehe. Still, it's been a while, hasn't it? You getting caught in one of my tricks."
She used to pull pranks like that often, using an actress's skill to tease people. Even Father, cold and good at hiding what he felt, could never match her acting, and he always ended up on the receiving end.
"Still, it isn't that I wasn't hurt at all. Next time, don't forget to greet Mom too, all right?"
In that last line, a hurt she hadn't quite managed to hide.
"...Yes. I will."
Right. Even if it had been a joke, the hurt was probably real.
"I'm home, Mom."
Late as it was, I greeted her again—the way I had in elementary school, before she returned to acting. Not Mother. Mom.
Was she startled by the greeting itself, or by being called Mom? Surprise crossed her face.
"....Hehe. All right, daughter. Did school go well?"
I knew that surprise was mixed with joy, and I felt a little proud of myself. Promising I truly wouldn't forget to greet her next time, I started toward my room on the second floor.
The moment I got in I peeled off the uniform, changed into something comfortable, and hit the computer's power button.
Home from school and the computer first—at this point, wasn't I just a gaming shut-in? Well. I did have a respectable(?) job as a streamer, and I was making money, so maybe not only a shut-in.
Internet broadcasting. A streamer. At the start I had only picked the job that suited me best, so I wouldn't live as a freeloading bum idling around the house. A broadcast chosen simply as a way to eat. But for me now, streamer was no longer just a job. On the path I had chosen, I was clearly having fun.
What had been mere work had become a hobby I enjoyed. Talking with the viewers who liked me, playing the games I loved alongside them—that was a real pleasure.
But.
"Haa..."
That pleasure felt horrible today. Because today I had to put myself on camera and do aegyo in front of a crowd of viewers. And the reason was none other than a roulette I had made up to keep the stream fun. The feeling was strange.
The roulette I chose. The items I chose. I'd braced myself to endure on spite and grit, and I still couldn't hide how much I hated it. What could I do? It was already promised, and a broadcaster who lives on trust can't run.
"Hoo... haa..."
After a few deep breaths, I pressed the button to go live.
Roulette Penalty
Once the stream was on, I started some music to warm things up until the viewers piled in, and watched the chat. There hadn't been all that many people who showed up the moment I went live. Lately, though...
People who dropped in the instant I hit the button had gotten a lot more common. Probably the exhibition's influence. I'd made a showing in a match that pulled a huge audience, so the attention on me inside Kwitch had risen, and my stream had shot up with it.
Five minutes hadn't even passed, and the count was already two thousand. The exhibition was part of it, but the bigger reason...
Was probably the roulette penalty.
To dodge the horror-game penalty, the trade I had offered: half-cam, and cat speech. The trade had been accepted, so I'd avoided the disaster of a horror game—only for another disaster to arrive, one where I had to turn on a half-cam and do aegyo.
A chat nothing like the usual. I stared at it and sank into thought.
If I'd known it would be like this, I should have just done it right after the exhibition.
No. Better to take the hit early. And if I drag this out too long, the viewers will hate it too.
I couldn't see any need to warm up further, so I switched the mic on.
"Ah... hello..."
Stalling any longer than this wasn't the attitude a broadcaster ought to have.
"Then... I'll turn it on?"
The cam was already framed to cut off just below the neck. I'd even put a mask on, in case of disaster. I'd thought about sunglasses too, but that felt like overkill. If I was careful, nothing much would happen.
Quietly, I moved the cursor onto the cam setting.
And...
I turned the cam on.