The room was dark.
Light was leaking in through the gap between the curtains, but Hime didn't want to call it light. Just a gap. Proof that there was still a gap she hadn't closed.
She reached out from beneath the blankets and picked up her smartphone. 5:47 p.m. Her alarm was set for six. One hour before her stream started. There were still thirteen minutes left, but sleep hadn't been an option anyway. More precisely, she'd woken up three hours ago and had been staring at the ceiling ever since.
Her notifications had piled up. Adele Weiss's message sat at the top.
“Hime-Hime! How about a collab stream today?? I installed a new game, so let's play together!! Please!!!!!”
There were seven more exclamation points beneath it. Hime swiped the notification away. She didn't even read it. More precisely, she read it, but treated it as though she hadn't.
I have to get up.
The thought circled through her mind. Once. Twice. Her body didn't move.
Hime kicked the blankets aside and sat up. Her arms trembled as she got to her feet. Because she hadn't eaten properly yesterday. No—she hadn't eaten properly the day before that, either.
Two empty cans of beer, three snack bags, and one cup-noodle container were piled on the desk. Two monitors sat side by side, with a microphone, an audio interface, and a webcam next to them—the webcam went unused. She was a virtual avatar, after all. Instead, a face tracker was clipped to the top of one of the monitors. In one corner of the desk sat a half-empty bottle of cough medicine. Its cap wasn't screwed on properly. She'd been coughing for days, but she had no intention of going to the hospital. Because she'd have to go outside. Because she'd have to meet people.
Hime planted her bare feet on the floor. It was cold. Even in summer, this room was always cold. Because sunlight never came in.
She had to go wash her face, but she hated mirrors. It wasn't that she hated the face in the mirror—or no, she hated that too—but she hated how clearly standing in front of one showed her what she was doing right now. Twenty-three years old. Never leaving her room. Drinking canned beer. A woman turning on a stream to get donations.
She washed her face halfheartedly. Just splashed it with water. She didn't look in the mirror.
Back in her room, she sat down at the desk. She opened a drawer to take out her earbuds, then her hand stopped. In the back of the drawer was an old smartphone that wasn't even plugged into a charging cable. Its screen was cracked. Hime tried not to look at it, but she'd already seen it. She turned her gaze away, grabbed only the earbuds, and shut the drawer.
Before turning on the monitors, her eyes went somewhere else first.
The right corner of the desk. A small picture frame.
Three people stood in the photograph. A young man, a young woman, and a little girl nestled between them. The child was smiling. She had the innocent face of someone who knew nothing, both cheeks puffed up. The woman had a hand resting on the girl's head. The man was looking at the camera.
Hime picked up the frame and turned it facedown. A light tap as it landed.
It was a habit. Something she did before every stream. Because she mustn't look. Because if she kept looking, she'd miss her mother. If she missed her, she'd cry. If she cried, her voice would crack. If her voice cracked, she couldn't stream. If she couldn't stream, she couldn't make money.
So she just had to not look.
Hime turned her chair toward the bed. On a small shelf at the head of the bed sat an old music box. The wood was peeling, and its corners were worn down. A gift from Mom. Something Mom had secretly handed over to her.
Her hand reached for it. She opened the lid.
A slow, gentle melody drifted out. A small, frail sound that played only as long as the spring remained wound. For a moment, the darkness in the room seemed to recede from it.
Hime closed her eyes. The melody began to slow. The spring was nearly unwound. It would end soon. And when it did—after that—
Hime closed the music box. Click.
The corners of her eyes were wet. She wiped them with the back of her hand. It's okay. I didn't listen to it yet. I didn't listen to it all the way through.
Hime turned her chair back and switched on the monitors. She opened her streaming software and loaded her virtual avatar.
A girl in an exorcist's uniform appeared on the screen. Silver hair, red eyes, and an expression that looked languid somehow. When Hime tilted her head, the girl tilted hers. When Hime blinked, the girl blinked. This girl's skin was clear. There were no dark circles beneath her eyes. She stayed clean without washing, never grew thin no matter how little she ate, and her eyes never swelled when she cried.
This girl wasn't Hime.
No, she was Hime. The Hime Hime wanted to become. The Hime who could die without becoming an evil spirit.
She entered the stream title.
“Hiki Hime's Late Dinner — Still Alive Today”
She pressed the Start button.
“Hellooo, this is Hiki Himeee.”
Her voice changed. It rose by a note, with the ends of her words stretching ever so slightly. The voice of a languid yet adorable, listless exorcist. A voice Hime had created. A voice that wasn't Hime's. The girl on the monitor smiled brightly. Hime outside the monitor did not.
The chat window began to move.
“Hime's here” “Still alive today, huh” “You call it late dinner, but it's this time every day lol”
“Yeees, I'm barely hanging on today, too. Exorcists don't get days off, you know. And if we die, we become evil spirits, so I can't even die.”
It was tossed out lightly. The viewers laughed.
“Lmao, she's really committed to the persona” “I love Hime's lore”
Hime laughed, too. Her avatar followed suit.
It's not a persona.
“What are you doing today?” “Game? Chat?”
“Hmm, I think I'll take it easy and chat today. Even exorcists need to rest sometimes, right?”
Her fingers danced over the keyboard. Reading the chat, reacting, pretending to laugh. She knew this routine by heart. Her body remembered it. Even with her brain switched off, her mouth kept moving.
Then an alert appeared across the screen.
“T.T sent a 10,000-yen donation — Hime, I came to hear your voice again today. Thank you for being here.”
Ten thousand yen. Hime's fingers stopped. She looked at the number twice. Then she read the message one more time.
Thank you for being here.
“Oh, T.T, thank you so much! Ten thousand yen? That's so much…… Thank you, really.”
Her voice was bright. The gratitude was sincere. But Hime knew where that sincerity took root. It wasn't gratitude so much as relief. She'd earned money today. She was okay today. She hadn't hit rock bottom today.
The chat began flowing again.
“T.T's dropping money again lol” “Big spender spotted” “I'm jealous, Hime”
Hime stared at the word jealous for a long time.
I'm the jealous one.
T.T probably had plenty of money, probably a happy family, and probably the freedom to go outside whenever they wanted. Someone who could send ten thousand yen without a second thought. It would be a lie to say she wasn't jealous of a person like that.
A username flashed by on one side of the chat. “Kai.” They had joined without saying a word. Hime paid no attention. Just one among hundreds.
Hime smiled. Her avatar followed suit.
“All right, then, shall we take it easy today, too? Hiki Hime's Late Dinner starts now.”
The stream continued. Hime kept smiling. The avatar stayed cute.
The room was still dark.