Imamimi Notanobu - I

The hum of my computer carries across my room. I stare curiously into my webcam and position myself so that it gets my ideal angle. There’s a message on my screen, and a donation of 10k yen with it.

It reads as follows.

‘Nobu-san. If you had to guess, what do you think the ‘Tearer’ is?’

I stop to think for a moment, and turn my head cutely to one side. It’s a question relevant to the stream, after all. Given that we’re covering all manners of magic, mysteries, and anything remotely adjacent.

I’ve been posting occasional updates about my investigation into it, so it’s not too far-fetched to imagine someone must’ve picked up on it, and got a bit curious. Learning is a good thing, and there’s a certain satisfaction to playing teacher, too.

“Well, dear viewer, that’s an excellent question. Truth be told, I’m not sure. We all know the Tearer is some kind of killer—if you ask me, it’s hard to pinpoint what exactly.”

Another donation.

‘Do you think it’s a werewolf?’

“Not at all. The modus operandi doesn’t match up. Contrary to popular belief—werewolves don’t usually eat their victims. And the lack of residual fur alongside paw prints proves this point further.”

Another donation. Another 10k.

‘Some sort of youkai?’

“It’s possible. But I doubt it, to be honest. They’re pretty uncommon in urban environments, and a youkai that eats people, while leaving no trace of what’s behind, doesn’t match any I know.”

‘Then what do you think the Tearer is?’

I stop to think. To compile all the evidence I’ve dug up and more.

The desecrated remains and the spots of ash at their corpses.

The specific selection of those absent from any governmental database, barring any criminal with a prior conviction, or tourist who has their fingerprints collected.

And the sightings of humanoid figures—supposedly at the scene of the crimes themselves.

But moreover…

“Each of the seven crime scenes had an object placed near the remains of the body. For the previous one, a series of coins was arranged in a circle. And for the third, there were pieces of shattered black and white glass.”

I hesitate. I wonder whether I should just share my theory and let it out in the open.

It’d be a shame if someone took my words and made a video on it first…

But I’ve never been one for too much caution anyway.

“To be honest, I think the killer is human. The modus operandi aligns with the phenomenon known as ‘ritual killers’. Usually mages, trying to appease a specific philosophy or ritual in order to further their own aims. Remember: Magic is a reflection of culture, traditions and beliefs. So, a mage who wanted to become a vampire, for example, might paint their skin white, drink blood, and sleep in a coffin with earth from the homeland.”

The tips of my wings twitch in reflex. My strange equivalent of a shiver down the spine.

Abruptly, I look over my shoulder and verify the safety of my still-usual room. There’s nothing unusual. Just the dark of late evening, and the lights of a city across a stretch of black.

My gaze lingers on the outside for a moment longer, and the fans in my PC continue to spin, turning, and turning, and carrying a waft of warmth in this January weather.

I look back at my webcam.

“Of course, my guess is just about as good as anyone else's. But with evidence being as sparse as it is, and the police being unwilling to investigate, I’d say it’s a pretty good guess, no?” I pause. “Oh, and thank you so much for the donation, by the way, hehe, sorry for forgetting!—I guess Nobu-chan got too caught up in the moment~”

My chat floods with messages. A few dozen fans heap praise and interest onto their dear streamer.

A high-pitched sound and box appears once again, and I think it’s another question from the same person.

‘Nobu-chan! Please wear that cute lolita outfit again! Don’t let a murder msytery distract you from the glory of crossdressing! We haven’t had new material since a week and my third eye is already shrivelling from neglect ༼ ༎ຶ ᆺ ༎ຶ༽’

It’s not. It’s just a 5k donation from one of the cultivated horndogs who follow me.

“Hehe, I’ll think about it, but Nobu-chan’s been very busy with his job lately, so please give me time, ok?” I give an exaggerated yawn and slump ever so slightly. “In any case, this’ll be the end of my stream today! Remember to eat healthy and sleep well! And if you can—spread the word of my Magical Consultation firm, okay? For additional information, my website is always available~”

I wave goodbye, then use a time-old keybind to turn off my stream. The light on my webcam becomes a darkened lens. Next, I switch off my desktop-mounted studio light, and at last, relax in my seat.

As I lean back in the swivel chair, the croak of its plastic echoes through the room, ushering me in a comfortable silence. I clear my throat and whisper a few words under my breath, feeling the sound recalibrate to its usual, boring self.

That was a good stream.

45k total, and from a new viewer nonetheless. Enough to pay this month's rent and a bit more.

I feel giddy at the thought of making that much money and think of sending a personalised message to this viewer. That’s how it works. You gotta plant yourself inside their head. Root your tendrils deep, and justify their one-sided infatuation through any means necessary.

Perhaps coincidentally—perhaps not—I notice a notification on my phone.

The streaming website I use also doubles as a messaging platform, and it seems this person contacted me first. This isn’t unusual, of course. I’ve had a few fans donate to me, then come to message me right after. Sometimes, for wholesome purposes; to thank me for making their day. Other times to ask when I’d sell lewd pictures of myself or if I’d date them.

This time, though. I have something strange.

There’s no message. Not exactly. Instead, there’s just a link.

At first, I think it’s some attempt to phish my details. After all, scammers are everywhere these days. But I recognise the website, and I know it’s one used to host images and videos.

And seeing as this person donated 30k yen, I decide to might as well.

I click open the link, and watch as a series of squares load in one long column. The first is a piece of white paper with an address on it. And the second—is the half-eaten corpse of something once human.