【 Vodcast 1】

Two weeks after my stay at Jitsuko’s place, the day of the stream finally arrived.

Studio lights burst to life, catching Mitsuru in a white glow. One hand stayed tucked in her pocket while the other lifted the mic closer to her lips.

“Hello, everyone. Welcome to the live stream of your favourite streaming group, The Zero’s.”

The camera zoomed in, staying on her face before sliding back to reveal the set behind her. Mitsuru gave a casual wave, heels clicking as she walked toward the four couches. Sanae and Nazuna were already seated, chatting quietly off-mic.

Behind the camera, crew members shifted around—monitoring sound, adjusting angles, and managing chats. 

It was the usual pre-stream chaos.

“Today is special,” Nazuna said, twirling a lock of his wig as he crossed his legs. His skirt fluttered, then settled neatly. “We’re welcoming our newest member.”

The chat exploded. Kyroxfun. His fans had been waiting for this reveal for weeks. Their comments flew so fast the chat felt blurred.

A virtual cat-girl model popped into the corner of the screen. "Yeah, you guys are well-informed."

This was Jitsuko; she was at the studio but in a separate room.

Sanae clapped her hands. “Alright, let’s welcome our—”

Akira stepped onto the platform before she could finish. His mask was still on, but the hood he normally wore was gone.

The stage lights reflected in his eyes—he kept a sharp, steady, unblinking gaze. It looked as though he was staring directly at the viewers.

He was exceptionally good with keeping firm eye contact, so a camera was nothing to him.

“We were supposed to call you!” Nazuna said, light bounced off his necklace as he turned.

“Nah. It was getting cringe.”Akira glanced over his shoulder, then back at the camera. He pointed at it, smirking, the sparkle in his eyes unmistakable. 

“You guys ready?”

“Now who’s being cringe?” Mitsuru laughed.

Akira hooked a finger under the mask strap, pulling it down. His ears were faintly red—not nervous, just fueled with anticipation. He wanted the reaction.

The moment his face appeared, the chat detonated. Viewer numbers shot up like sparks. The comments scrolled too fast to read.

He grinned, showing the sharp canines. “Come on—look at these with my face this time.”

Mitsuru stood and gently pushed him toward the couch. “Sit. Before you start climbing the walls.”

“Alright! Time for the questions you guys have been dying to ask,” Jitsuko announced.

The AI voice began pulling questions from repeated chat queries.

“So,” it read aloud, “since you’re a certified playboy, are you this flirty in real life too?”

Akira chuckled. "Aww, I don't want to tell, but—"

“He is,” Nazuna cut in. "He can flirt on a whim."

“You watch me a lot,” Akira teased, leaning closer. “Wanna go somewhere afterward~?”

Nazuna shoved him away. “See? That’s what I mean.

"In a game lobby, what would be your pickup line?"

"I can pay for your items." Akira nodded. "Yup, some gamers are hella broke."

"For a duo partner, what's your type: good aim or good humour?"

“Good aim. Aim for my heart. I’ll supply the humour.”

"If someone slid into your DMs, would you reply?"

"You must be new; I reply to all my DMs."

"How many people in chat do you think love you?"

"Everyone – that's why they are watching my face reveal."

"Would you date a guy?"

"Hmmm, only if he is cuter than me."

"Do you have a girlfriend?"

"No"

Then came the shift. 

"Do you slut yourself in front of everyone?"

Akira blinked and looked at the others.

"Impure trash."

"Whore."

"Let me buy you for a night."

Mitsuru stepped in immediately. “Please keep it appropriate.”

The AI voice shut off. Moderators began deleting comments in bulk.

Akira tilted his head—not shocked, just caught off guard. His own streams were chaotic, but this was different. This wasn’t just his fans.

This could have been messier.

“Alright,” Jitsuko said tightly, “we’ll pause the questions. Some users are clearly out of line.”

Akira licked his lip, unbothered. He wanted them to know it didn't bother him.

He leaned forward, the camera focused on him, voice low and amused. “Someone crushed so hard they turned into a creepy tsundere.”

The stream continued smoothly—numbers high, engagement great and entertainment wild. By the end, it was already one of their most successful broadcasts. 

After the stream, equipment clattered as everyone packed up. Mitsuru talked to a manager; Sanae and Nazuna disappeared to grab food.

A young crew member bowed to Akira. “We’re really sorry for what happened.”

“No biggie.” Akira flipped his mask in his hands.

“That was outrageous,” Jitsuko said, joining him.

“In this job? Pretty normal.” He leaned closer, half-teasing, half-weary.

The staff member retreated to the others from the staff.

“Ah! I forgot my bag. Wait here.” Jitsuko rushed off.

Akira leaned against the wall. From across the room, he heard the staff whispering.

“I hope his presence doesn’t cause problems.”

“Please. Stirring up drama around that thing is how you get a hit stream.”

“At the end of the day, only views matter. And most of the ones calling him names were his own regulars.”

My fans wouldn’t treat me like that. They love me.

Akira pressed a hand to his forehead, tracing small circles on his temples. Deep down he remembered the similar phrases in his own stream.

I want to go home. I’m sick of this place.

He pushed open the exit door, wobbling slightly as he made his way out. 

His mind replayed all the times his fans had thrashed him. But he couldn't accept it; they were his. They loved him.

After his aunt, he had found love in these fans- these stupid fans.

He left without telling anyone.

The driver waited in the dim parking lot. The empty road behind him looked as if it were staring into him.

An uneasy sense of being stared at lingered. 

A trick of the light? Or is someone actually there?

He slid into the car and pulled his mask back over his face, sinking into the seat.

A laugh slipped out.

You asked for this. Freedom, validation… a shortcut.

He tapped his finger on the window glass. He sighed and leaned against the door.

I don’t care what they said. But those idiots should love me.

To be fed by adoration meant to feed adoration, he had always believed.

I gave them everything I had; I gave them what they wanted so where is the love.