The Stream Prep

Momo had immediately started promoting it across all platforms. Mysterious. Intriguing. "Coven Lord Mio's Important Announcement." The vampire community forums were already buzzing with speculation.

Which meant Mio had four days to prepare.

Four days to transform from "shut-in gamer who streams in a hoodie" to "professional spokesperson for vampire-human coexistence."

She was, understandably, panicking.

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Tuesday started with Momo banging on Mio's door at 9 AM.

"WAKE UP! We have FOUR DAYS!"

Mio, who had been awake since 5 AM staring at her ceiling in existential dread, opened the door.

"I'm awake."

"Good. We need to talk about Friday's stream."

"I stream all the time. I know how cameras work."

Momo looked her up and down. Took in the oversized hoodie, the messy hair, the general "I haven't left my room in days" energy.

"Boss. You stream GAMES. In a hoodie. Yelling about loot drops."

"So?"

"So this is different. You're not reviewing the latest FromSoft release. You're addressing serious concerns about vampire-human relationships." Momo crossed her arms. "You need to look professional. Articulate. Like someone people should take seriously."

"I…" Mio looked down at herself. "Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh.'" Momo grinned. "Don't worry. Reina's already planning your intervention."

"My WHAT?"

Soon after, Reina appeared at Mio's door with an expression that meant business.

"When did you last shower?" she asked.

Mio looked up from her laptop. "...Define 'last'?"

"In the past week."

"...Define 'week'?"

Reina closed her eyes, took a breath. "Bathroom. Now."

"I'm FINE…"

"You smell like energy drinks and despair. Bathroom."

"I don't have TIME…"

"You're streaming Friday. In front of potentially thousands of people. You will NOT do it smelling like a gamer cave." Reina's tone left no room for argument. "Bathroom. Now. Or I'm carrying you."

Mio knew that tone. Reina would absolutely follow through.

She went to the bathroom.

Twenty minutes later, she emerged from the shower, actually properly washed for the first time in... she wasn't counting, to find Reina had laid out an entire skincare routine on the counter.

Serums. Toners. Moisturizers. Things in bottles she didn't recognize.

"What is all this?"

"Basic hygiene."

"I USE soap!"

"Soap is step one of twelve." Reina held up a bottle. "This is…"

"Why do you have SEVENTEEN bottles? It's just a FACE!"

"Your face has pores, Mio. Pores need care."

"My face has been FINE for three hundred years!"

"Your face has been hidden behind a screen for three hundred years. Now people will actually SEE it. In HD. With good lighting." Reina started opening bottles. "Now sit. We have work to do."

Mio groaned but submitted.

Cleanser. Toner. Serum. Eye cream. Moisturizer. Reina worked with the efficiency of someone who'd done this many times before.

"Why do you even KNOW all this?" Mio asked.

"I'm three hundred and fifty years old. You think I maintain this complexion by accident?" Reina applied something that smelled like flowers. "Skincare is self-care."

"Skincare is TORTURE."

"You'll thank me when you don't look washed out on camera."

Next came the hair. Reina surveyed the tangled mess with the air of a general assessing a losing battle.

"When did you last brush this?"

"...I brush it!"

"With what? A fork?"

"It gets TANGLED!"

"Because you don't CONDITION." Reina sighed. "Okay. This might hurt."

It did hurt. Detangling took thirty minutes, multiple products Mio didn't know existed, and a lot of patient coaxing.

But by the end, her hair was soft and shiny instead of a tangled nest. Actually moved when she shook her head instead of staying in one matted mass.

She looked in the mirror.

"I don't recognize myself."

"You look healthy. Alive."

"I look WEIRD."

"You look like someone who occasionally sees sunlight. It's an improvement."

"I hate that this worked," Mio muttered.

Reina smiled. "You look beautiful."

"I look like someone's responsible older sister."

"You look like someone people might actually trust with a social revolution."

"...Low bar, but okay."

Tuesday afternoon brought the wardrobe battle.

Reina had laid out options on Mio's bed. Dresses. Blouses. Skirts. Things with structure and buttons and…

"Absolutely not," Mio said immediately.

"You haven't even LOOKED at them…"

"I don't need to look. The answer is no."

Reina held up a black dress. Elegant, professional, perfectly appropriate.

Mio recoiled like it was on fire. "ESPECIALLY not that."

"Why not? It's lovely."

"I look like I'm going to a funeral. Or a job interview for a job I don't want."

"You look sophisticated."

"I look like I'm cosplaying a functional adult." Mio crossed her arms. "No dresses."

"Mio…"

"I will FIGHT you on this."

Reina studied her for a long moment. Then sighed. "Fine. What about a blouse?"

"...Maybe?"

"With a skirt?"

"Nice try. Jeans."

"Mio, this is a professional stream…"

"Then get me professional jeans! They exist, right? You said professional jeans exist!"

"I did say that," Reina admitted.

They compromised: soft purple blouse (not too formal, not too casual, brought out her eyes), dark jeans from Reina's "professional casual" collection, minimal jewelry.

Mio looked at herself in the mirror. "I look..."

"Presentable?"

"Uncomfortable." But also... kind of nice? Like a version of herself that existed outside her room. That went places. Did things. Had a life beyond her screens.

"You'll get used to it," Reina said gently.

"Doubt it."

But she didn't take it off.

Tuesday evening: the makeup disaster.

"I don't wear makeup," Mio said, backing away.

"You're going to. Light makeup. Just enough to not look washed out under the lights." Reina advanced with a makeup bag. "Sit."

"This feels like a threat."

"It's not a threat. It's self-improvement. Sit."

Mio sat.

Reina started with foundation. "This is just to even out your skin tone…"

"My skin tone is FINE…"

"Your skin tone is 'hasn't seen daylight in decades.' We're fixing that. Stay still."

The foundation wasn't so bad. Felt weird, but not painful.

Then Reina pulled out the eyeliner.

"No," Mio said immediately.

"Yes."

"That's a WEAPON."

"It's a cosmetic pencil."

"You're going to stab my eye!"

"I'm not going to stab your eye. I've done this thousands of times. Close your eyes."

"How can I close my eyes when there's a WEAPON approaching my eyeball?!"

"Mio. It's not a weapon. Close. Your. Eyes."

Mio squeezed her eyes shut so hard her whole face scrunched.

"Not like that. Relax your face."

"How do I relax when there's impending EYE STABBING?!"

"Oh my god." Reina grabbed her chin firmly. "Look up. Don't move."

"This is how I die. Stabbed by cosmetics."

"You're being dramatic."

"I'm being REALISTIC."

Fifteen minutes of struggle later, Mio had: light foundation ("just to even things out"), subtle eyeliner (after three attempts and two complete do-overs), mascara (she blinked through the entire application), and lip tint (she'd refused lipstick, this was the compromise).

Reina stepped back. "Done. Look."

Mio opened her eyes. Looked in the mirror.

Blinked.

"I... don't recognize myself."

"You look lovely."

"I look like an ADULT."

"You are an adult. A three-hundred-year-old adult."

"I don't FEEL like an adult. I feel like a teenager playing dress-up." But she couldn't stop looking. Her eyes looked bigger. Her face looked... alive. Like a person who had their life together. "This is so weird."

"You'll get used to it."

"Everyone keeps saying that."

"Because it's true."

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Wednesday morning, 10 AM.

Now that Mio looked presentable (according to Reina's standards), it was time to actually practice.

Momo had set up the stream environment. Cameras. Lights. Two chairs. Everything ready for a dry run.

"Okay," she said. "Let's practice. Pretend I'm the audience. I'll ask questions, you answer. Professional. Calm. Articulate."

Mio sat in her chair. Took a breath. "Okay. Ready."

"First question: Why did you decide to go public with your relationship?"

"Well, we wanted to show that vampire-human relationships can work if both parties—CHAT THIS IS CRAZY—" She stopped. Covered her face. "Oh my god. Wrong energy. Sorry."

Momo was grinning. "Yeah, no 'CHAT' on this stream. Try again."

"Right. Okay. ahem" Mio sat up straighter, tried for professional. "We wanted to demonstrate that with proper consent and communication, vampires and humans can—OH MY GOD THAT'S SUCH A GOOD POINT—" She caught herself again. "I did it AGAIN."

"You've been streaming games for decades," Momo said, not unkindly. "You're used to being excited. Reactive. Yelling when you almost miss the loot."

"Exactly! When I'm gaming, I can YELL. I can get excited. I can…" She demonstrated wildly. "...react! This is all 'please sit still and speak calmly about serious topics.'"

"You can still be yourself," Momo said. "Just... indoor voice yourself."

"Indoor voice Mio is so BORING though."

"Indoor voice Mio won't make people worry you're unhinged."

"...Fair."

They practiced for an hour. Mio slowly getting better at not slipping into "streamer mode." No yelling. No "chat" references. No wild hand gestures when excited.

It felt wrong. Restrained. Like wearing clothes that didn't fit.

But she was getting better at it.

"Okay, one more," Momo said. "Hardball question: How do you know you're not under compulsion?"

Mio took a breath. Remembered to stay calm. "I don't use compulsion on Akira. The only spell in our contract is a comfort spell: optional, disclosed, and he consented to it in writing. He's free to leave at any time."

"Better! See? You can do this."

"I can do this," Mio repeated. Trying to convince herself.

Wednesday evening, Akira arrived for his makeover session.

He'd texted Tanaka before leaving work: Heading to mansion for stream prep.

Still going through with it?

Yeah.

You're insane. Text me when you leave.

He showed up at in his usual work clothes. Button-down shirt (slightly wrinkled), slacks (fine but nothing special), tie (boring).

Reina took one look and said, "Absolutely not."

"What's wrong with my clothes?"

"Government employee chic is not the aesthetic we're going for."

"I look professional!"

"You look like you're about to file paperwork. This is a ROMANTIC DECLARATION. You need to look..." Reina gestured vaguely. "...appealing."

"I…what?"

"You're going on camera with your vampire girlfriend to prove your relationship is real. Looking like you just came from the car dealership is not sending the right message." Reina pulled out their phone. "I'm calling in reinforcements."

Twenty minutes later, Reina had assembled an entire wardrobe selection.

"Try this," they commanded, handing Akira a light blue button-down.

"This is almost identical to what I'm wearing…"

"It FITS properly. Yours is two sizes too big. Go. Change."

Akira changed. Came back.

"Better. Now try these pants."

"What's wrong with my pants?"

"They're sad. Try these."

Four outfit changes later, they'd settled on: light blue button-down (actually fit his shoulders), dark well-fitted pants (not his usual "I bought these because they were on sale"), no tie (Reina had vetoed it as "too formal").

"There," Reina said with satisfaction. "You look like someone who leaves their house for reasons other than work."

"I look like I'm trying too hard."

"You look like you're putting in effort. There's a difference." Reina adjusted his collar. "Mio will appreciate it."

"This feels weird."

"You'll get used to it."

"Why does everyone keep saying that?"

Wednesday evening, 4 PM.

Mio had spent the last hour getting ready. Reina had helped with hair (soft waves, nothing too fancy), makeup (light touch-up), outfit (the purple blouse and jeans).

She looked in the mirror one last time.

Still didn't recognize herself. But... maybe that was okay? Maybe this version of her, the one who went on camera, who spoke to people, who tried to change the world, maybe she needed to look different than the shut-in gamer who hid in her room.

She took a breath. Headed downstairs.

Akira was in the living room, back to her, talking to Reina about something.

He'd changed too. The new outfit Reina had picked. Hair actually styled instead of "I ran my hand through it once."

He turned when he heard her footsteps.

Stopped mid-sentence.

Stared.

She stared back.

He looked... good. Really good. The shirt fit him properly, showed his build instead of hiding it. The styled hair made him look less "overworked government employee" and more "actual adult human person who has his life together."

When had he gotten so...

"Oh no," Momo said from the couch. "They're doing the thing."

"What thing?" Reina asked.

"The 'seeing each other dressed up for the first time' thing. It's very rom-com. Very…"

"You look really nice," Akira said, still staring.

Mio's brain had completely short-circuited. He looked... good. Really good. When did his shoulders get that defined? Had they always been like that? Why was she NOTICING?

"You too," she managed. "Nice. You look. That."

Eloquent. Very eloquent.

Momo snorted. "Wow, Boss. Smooth."

"Shut up."

Akira crossed to her, smiling. "Reina's intervention?"

"They made me shower. And do skincare. And wear makeup."

"I can tell."

"Is that an insult?"

"It's a compliment. You look..." He searched for words. "Alive. Healthy. Like someone who sees sunlight occasionally."

"That's what Reina said!"

"Because it's true." His smile widened. "You look beautiful."

Mio.exe has stopped working.

"I…you…that's…" She covered her face. "Stop looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like... THAT."

"I'm just looking at you."

"You're looking at me WEIRD."

"You're the one being weird."

"I'm ALWAYS weird!"

"Fair point."

Momo was barely containing her laughter. "You two are disasters."

"Adorable disasters," Reina corrected. "But yes. Disasters."

Mio peeked through her fingers at Akira. He was still smiling at her. Warm and genuine and…

"Stop SMILING," she said.

"Why?"

"Because it's distracting!"

"From what?"

"From my PANIC!"

He laughed. Actually laughed. Reached out and gently pulled her hands away from her face.

"You're going to be fine," he said. "We're going to be fine."

"You don't know that."

"No. But I'm choosing to believe it anyway."

She looked up at him. At this version of him that was familiar but different. Same person. Different presentation. Still him.

"Okay," she said quietly. "I can believe it too."

"NOW KISS!" Momo yelled.

"Momo!"

"What? You're both thinking it!"

"We're being PROFESSIONAL!"

"You're being disasters. But cute disasters." Momo grinned. "Friday's gonna be VERY interesting."

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Thursday morning: Joint practice.

Both of them now properly styled. Both terrified.

They sat in the chairs, practiced answering questions together.

"How did you meet?"

"I attacked him during a game rage."

"She was very apologetic."

"I sent cartoon bat gifts."

Momo nodded. "Better. You're actually talking to each other instead of the camera. That's good. Keep that energy."

They practiced for hours. Mio only slipped into streamer mode twice. Progress.

Thursday afternoon, 4 PM.

"Okay, I think we're done," Momo said, reviewing footage. "You're as ready as you're going to be."

"That's not reassuring," Mio muttered.

"It's honest." Momo grinned. "Get some rest tonight. Big day tomorrow."

Mio and Akira stood. Both still in their stream outfits from practice.

"We look like adults," Mio observed.

"We are adults."

"We look like RESPONSIBLE adults."

"That's concerning."

Despite the nerves, they both smiled.

"You're going to be great," Akira said.

"We're going to be great," she corrected.

"Adorable disasters," Momo muttered. "Both of you."

At the door, Mio clung to Akira for a moment.

"Tomorrow," she said.

"Tomorrow."

"I'm terrified."

"Me too."

She pulled back. "But we're doing it anyway."

"We're doing it anyway."

He left. Got in his car.

Texted Tanaka: Leaving mansion. Stream prep done.

How are you feeling?

Terrified.

Good. That means you're thinking clearly. A pause. I'll be watching tomorrow. Good luck.

Akira smiled despite himself. Thanks.

He drove home. Tomorrow was Friday.

Tomorrow, everything would change.