"Boss. I want to quit."
It looked like I'd thrown an unavoidable ultimatum at the boss, but it was really just an outburst of pent-up emotions.
If anything, it was an "oh crap" kind of mistake.
Quitting now, when we got along like friends?
Quitting wouldn't even give me more time to hang out with the boss, so why shoot myself in the foot like that?
Besides, the boss had been swamped for the past three years.
She'd proven with her own body that 1.6 million subscribers didn't come easy.
Sorting through collab invites and ad deals pouring in from everywhere.
And amid all that, she still had to carve out time to play with viewers, but this year, with the parallel 1st Gen added on top, she'd gotten even busier.
So of course she had no time to play.
… Guess I'll just have to grind sub-accounts harder.
I finally shoved my protruding lip back in and muttered.
"Just kidding. I was just wondering what your reaction would be if I said I was quitting."
*
After Jia left the boss's office with a dejected look, President Cheon Dohee could only stare blankly out the door for a while.
Then she snapped to her senses and could only recite a famous line from the Night of Legend broadcast in her head.
Alert.
Code Red.
"What… what the hell. Quitting, all of a sudden."
The girl who'd been a solid manager for two years and company employee for three, with zero issues, had suddenly turned sulky.
Those disappointed eyes and the drooping corners of her mouth, like she'd lost all hope.
No matter how you sliced it, she looked like someone who couldn't find a reason to stay at the company anymore.
But even reflecting on it, Dohee couldn't pinpoint what she'd done wrong.
Sure, she'd gamed with Jia occasionally, but after starting the company, time was so tight that pre-scheduling became the rule.
In other words, Dohee's words weren't a refusal—they were a promise to do it two months from now.
But Jia coming from over there didn't know that.
She'd never experienced being friends with Dohee.
Left with no choice, Cheon Dohee called in the head of the operations team she belonged to.
Kang Jiho, thirty-two this year, cupped his cheeks with both hands and groaned the moment he entered the president's office.
"Boss, is it Jia…?"
The way he said it was just like an owner startled because their cat that always ate well suddenly skipped meals.
"Did something happen? Jia's face was completely dead."
"No, I called you because I'm wondering the same thing."
"Huh? If even you don't know, how am I supposed to?"
"She's on your team, isn't she?"
"Yeah, she's on operations, but she's basically your personal secretary. She only does what you tell her to."
"Hmm. Fair point."
He'd called him for nothing.
As Cheon Dohee thought that and shooed Kang out, the team lead fired off a single piercing remark instead of leaving right away.
"J-Just in case, but did you maybe yell at Jia or shout or chew her out…?"
A brief silence hung in the air.
Kang, gauging the mood, fiddled with his glasses and bolted out of the office.
"Doesn't seem like a team issue. So what did I say wrong earlier?"
Dohee had just made her usual offer to schedule a time.
Could that have been the problem?
Was today special or something?
Jia's birthday?
No, that was still about two months away.
Dohee's birthday then?
That was already two months past.
"… I really have no idea."
While Dohee was grasping at straws.
Operations team lead Kang Jiho, who'd returned to his seat, showed up again.
Knock knock.
—Boss?
"Come in."
She slipped cautiously into the office, adjusting her glasses as she spoke.
Like someone with anxiety, tapping her toes nervously with a tense expression.
"I think we might need to put someone else in Jia's spot for today's content. What do you think?"
"… That bad?"
"Yeah. I tried talking to her about the content run later, and she just kept going, 'Uh. Uh… like that,' half-answering. She's always so bright and hardworking, always polite."
Dohee frowned and clutched her forehead.
If Jia stayed zoned out, they'd need a sub starting with the eight o'clock content.
"I'll go check on her. Don't worry too much."
"Thank you, boss…."
"No, no. Looks like it was my mistake after all. I'll handle it."
At least as Dohee left the office and headed to operations, she had one big realization.
Jia's arrival time today had been way earlier than usual.
She was supposed to come by three, but she'd shown up at two.
And even asked beforehand if there was anything she needed.
'Today's the first time Jia's properly doing content with the 1st Gen kids, huh….'
It was supposed to be Dora's role, but she'd bailed for her grandfather's memorial, so it fell to Jia by default.
Because of her experience joining Dohee's streams a few times as a manager.
But she'd only ever silently carried as a gamer, never interacted on mic like this.
'She must've been too nervous to sleep. Came early to catch me when I had a free moment and ask stuff.'
Plus, she wasn't the type to express her thoughts well, so she'd probably hoped Dohee would pick up on her clumsy signals.
The "anything you need?" was "I need help."
The "wanna game together?" was "I'll carry you later, but I really need help." (Or not.)
'But why'd she bring up quitting… out of nowhere?'
Was participating in content that burdensome for her?
Dohee had assigned it thinking she was capable and suited for it.
Was that a mistake?
'Gotta talk her out of it first.'
For Dohee, anything but Jia quitting over her own screw-up.
Filling the forced vacancy from her leaving would be a nightmare.
Right away, monitoring all company VTuber streams from 3 p.m. weekdays to midnight like a command center, staying up till Mac Morning Time if late.
Weekends were weekends in name only—basically on half-call.
Had to love VTubers fiercely, keep a tight lip, have the fandom knowledge to recommend games or anime to those running dry on content, and the tech savvy to fix stream issues on the spot….
Honestly, no one could replace her.
Back at their first meeting, Dohee had thought, what kind of monster is this?
But five years later, no one cared for VTubers more passionately than her.
She'd said quitting was just a joke, forget it.
But to Dohee, who'd never once imagined Jia leaving, this was a bigger crisis than the popup store fiasco half a year into the 1st Gen debut.
*
"By any chance, is joining the content stressing you out a lot?"
I was sitting in an office chair, looping through the 1st Gen Rain kirinuki clips I'd saved to my playlist, when the boss asked me that.
I'd long given up gaming with her as friends and was just doing my work, so it caught me off guard.
"Huh… no?"
"If it's too much, tell me now. I'll get a sub."
"No no. It's today, this late?"
Before I knew it, the boss had swiped Kang Jiho's chair and schwoom.
Glided right up super close like a chair rider.
"Then why'd you bring up quitting earlier?"
"… You don't need to know."
Her lingering gaze felt like it was shoving my face back with her palm, so I had no choice but to spill my honest feelings.
"I just said it because I wanted to game together like we used to. Quitting—that was because you shot it down like you totally hated the idea, so my heart went pitch black all of a sudden, and I thought maybe I should just snipe from home again."
The boss instantly gaped like an idiot, then.
"Pfft, ahahahahaha!"
Laughed like a maniac, then started petting my head.
I wanted to snap, what are you doing treating a grown adult like this, but the feeling of her pressing my head kwoook kwoook was so good I just clamped my mouth shut.
So this is what it feels like to get headpats from Oshi.
Never experienced it before, so I had no clue.
The boss, done cackling, caught her breath and let out a short sigh.
"I've known you five years, and you still don't get it."
"Would be weird if I did. You're not living my life for me."
"Yeah. Man, I really don't know what to do with you."
Then she grabbed the comb from Kang Jiho's desk spot and brushed my tangled hair, and damn, that felt good too.
Wonder if this is how cats that melt under human touch feel.
"… Ah."
No, snap out of it. Can't zone out like this.
Time to pitch again while the boss was in a good mood.
Backing off earlier was to build momentum.
"Can we really not game just once? If not long, one hour. Nah, that's too short—two hours."
Not sure if my eyes showed the desperation, but the boss replied in a tone miles from before.
Her lush eyelashes curved softly, making my mouth corners twitch up too.
"If today's content goes off without a hitch, I'll cut sleep and duo with you."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Till we hit first place."
"Uh. Take that back."
"Why. Planning to throw again so we don't?"
"How'd you know."
"Cut me some slack. I'll die otherwise~."
She said it like we'd pull an all-nighter, but no way.
As if I didn't know how busy she was.
Exactly two hours, then let her go.
As a fan, that's already hogging her plenty.
"Depends on how you do, boss."
"But you seem confident today? Content prep good?"
Feeling great, I showed off the Rain impression I'd prepped all week.
Voice tone was pretty different from yesterday's, but surprisingly, tightening and loosening the vocal cords wasn't that big a deal.
With that thick foreigner vibe from learning Korean DIY-style, nailing the clean English pronunciations sprinkled in could turn anyone into Rain.
"Wow, shibal. You guys game like pros. Right? Rain's fault? Yeah. Your pace~."
The boss and team lead embarrassed me with zero reaction for a while.
I thought I nailed it.
Guess it fell short of expectations after all.
Just as I started to sulk, the boss asked, a beat late, with a shocked face.
"Why the hell have you been hiding this talent till now…?"
"… Never hid it?"
"You've never shown it in front of us."
"You never asked."
"...."
No clue why, but right after, the boss looked at Kang Jiho and said.
"If she does well today, it'll be huge…?"
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