The End of a Former Child Prodigy Streamer ④

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4

"Hi! Hello everyone! It's Key-chan!"

I struck a pose full of energy, looking straight into the camera, and I could tell it had focused on me. I knew exactly how I looked on camera. Most ordinary children show their parents a kind of miraculous, destructive cuteness at times. Even without a parental filter, the innocent smiles and guileless behavior of children can heal the hearts of jaded adults all over the world. I often hear that "you can get high ratings if you feature cats or dogs," and the same applies to children. Unconscious, casual behavior from a child is sometimes highly praised on TV or the internet. Children are potential content. However, I was not the "child" I just described. I was, first and foremost, a "streamer." I was a genius as a streamer, in a way that was unchildlike, or perhaps uniquely childlike.

"Today, let's play with these toys! We're the city fire brigade!"

I picked up a toy rescue worker set. Here, there was a cut. As soon as the recording light went off, I looked at Santa. Santa smiled slightly and, like a veteran staff member, spoke up with vigor.

"Alright, let's change clothes and shoot the next scene."

Santa and I returned home just like that day. Since we had gone out under the pretext of seeing a doctor, I thought it might be wise to at least get some medicine, but my mother didn't ask for any detailed explanation. She swallowed Santa's convenient excuse that "Key-chan got upset about the audition and had a hyperventilation attack." And with this, Santa successfully re-employed himself as a shooting staff member. All to pursue the truth. As an aside, the audition for the role of Dad was rescheduled. My mother was more worried about me getting sulky and stopping the daily updates than anything else.

"Chee-bo, you're doing great today. Keep it up... I'm counting on you."

I was fed up with that strangely dramatic "I'm counting on you." Even though Santa knew I understood without him saying it, he spoke in a roundabout way so that it would be fine if anyone heard. He seemed satisfied that we had successfully exchanged secret eye contact, but his clumsy way of speaking made me nervous just listening to it. I remember feeling sorry for Santa, even as a child, thinking that I was still the one with more nerves of steel.

After hearing a shocking hypothesis from Santa, my mind went blank, just like the sky today. The snow that had been falling since the day before yesterday had piled up deep in the garden. Two days had already passed since the day the two of them went out. I had made up my mind. My mind had been blank that day, but now I knew I just had to do what I had to do. Well, I had just stopped thinking until I knew the truth, so perhaps my situation hadn't improved much from being "blank-minded."

The next day, there was a cake-making shoot just in the living room. I don't know how many cakes I've made in videos so far, but cakes are popular content that gets views no matter how many times you do it because they look good on screen. We couldn't execute our plan during the living room shoot. We decided to wait for a chance to come.

Fearing that those around us would catch on, I treated Santa even more childishly than usual. To the adults around us, it must have just looked like two close people having a lighthearted exchange.

Our plan, Santa's and mine, was this: there was no doubt that my sister had realized some major truth before she left this house. At first, I thought she might have just discovered the existence of the hidden cameras like I did, but I didn't think she would suspect a "prank" just by noticing them by chance. In fact, there had been a time when my sister was filmed with a hidden camera to see if she could resist eating donuts while our parents were out. If she had just noticed the camera normally, she wouldn't have left me with that look on her face and said "Run away" before disappearing. My sister knew something more than what Santa and I knew. And that truth was likely in (my sister's room) or (my parents' bedroom). Those were the only spaces in this house I was forbidden from entering freely. The chance came sooner than I thought. Yes, this shoot today.

"Wow! It's an emergency! Fire! Fire!"

While being conscious of the camera, I ran around holding my head with an exaggerated reaction. Of course, I did this after calculating how to stay within the camera's frame. Fortunately, there was no detailed script prepared for today. I wouldn't be stopped suddenly, no matter what unexpected movements I made. Taking advantage of that, my plan was to dash into my sister's room during the shoot. It was impossible to search the room while filming, and I didn't expect that much. But just by trying to enter the room, I could confirm one thing. And that one thing is—

"Ah! Stop!"

My mother's voice interrupted the shoot. The camera crew immediately stopped filming and turned toward my mother. Santa lowered the camera and looked at me.

"Key-chan, I'm sorry. If you go in there, your sister will get mad at you. You know, when she comes back from studying abroad."

"Oh, I see. Sorry about that. I understand, Mom." I stuck my tongue out and gave my mother a childish apology.

The "certain thing" we wanted to confirm was easily understood. My mother hated nothing more than having a shoot interrupted when I was in the zone. Once, when one of the cameramen knocked over a vacuum cleaner leaning against the wall with his butt and interrupted the shoot, she had been furious, like a raging fire. I couldn't recall a single time she had stopped a shoot herself. This reaction was definitive. The "truth" my sister found is still left in her room.

Santa was still watching me. He had a look in his eyes like he was about to pump his fist in victory. If this plan were to be exposed to my mother, it would be because Santa messed up. I let out a deep sigh in my heart. As if to warn Santa, I deliberately ignored him and returned to the shoot. In any case, it could be called a success for now. It didn't matter that we hadn't found the truth today. The fact that it was now clear that my sister's room was the place to investigate was a huge step forward.

After that, what needed to be done was decided. This house had experienced power outages due to the circuit breaker tripping several times in the past. It was no wonder, given that we used that much lighting equipment. Recently, my mother and the others had learned their lesson, so it hadn't happened for nearly a year. That said, if we were using a lot of lighting equipment, they wouldn't think it was an artificial act even if the breaker suddenly tripped. They wouldn't suspect that the son and the cameraman were colluding to search the house while lost in the chaos of a power outage. To enter my sister's room, I needed to cut the power anyway. Even though my sister was long gone, there was a possibility that the hidden camera in the bookshelf and the wiretap hidden behind the outlet were still active. The power outage operation would be carried out tomorrow. We would use a green screen to recreate a scene from a famous animated movie. For this kind of shoot, we would be meticulous with the lighting equipment.

That night, I couldn't sleep. Staring at the dark ceiling, I kept thinking over and over about everything that had happened since Santa arrived. Since then, I hadn't been able to look my mother or father in the face properly. Was everything surrounding me a fiction? Perhaps this room was also all cardboard or CG, and if I peeled back a layer, a green screen would appear. Thinking such things, I waited patiently for the sky to brighten.

The day of the power outage operation. As planned, Santa returned to the room from the first-floor terrace, which was the shooting location, under the pretext that his battery had died during the shoot. His destination was, of course, not the storage room where the spare batteries were charged. It was the hallway next to the entrance where the circuit breaker was. Fortunately, the storage room was at the back of that hallway. In other words, the direction he was heading wouldn't be suspicious. I waited with bated breath. The shoot wouldn't resume until Santa, the cameraman, returned. The staff were idle, but since he had only gone to get a battery, the wait would be at most about a minute. Time passed without the shooting formation being broken. It had probably only been about 15 seconds, but for me, it was an agonizingly long 15 seconds.

"Hey, could you turn off the lights? The electricity bill is a waste, isn't it?"

My mother said that without a second thought. After thinking for a moment, I felt as if my heart had been crushed. This is bad. If the lights are turned off before Santa trips the breaker, it will be exposed that the breaker was tripped artificially. If that happens, not only will the operation fail, but Santa is the only one in the room. He won't be able to make excuses. In the first place, does my mother really not suspect Santa in the slightest? Even though he's a former staff member, is she accepting someone who suddenly returned after several years without any questions? That day, when the two of us went out saying we were going to the hospital, why did she trust him? Perhaps she had suspected him from the beginning. Maybe she had been letting us play along until we made a decisive mistake. Yes, just like this very moment.

"You're right, it's not very eco-friendly. Hey, let's turn off the lights for a moment."

Are these guys idiots? Global warming won't stop because of a minute or so of electricity usage. Even a child knows that. I thought of various excuses. If we turn off the lights, will it break our concentration? No, I've never said anything like that, like some misunderstood big-name actress. Should I bring up a random topic to buy the few seconds left until Santa trips the breaker? I realized that I was flustered in a way appropriate for my age, only at times like this. No words came to mind. Tears welled up. One of the staff members approached the switch. It wouldn't be strange if the breaker were tripped at this very moment. Make it in time. Santa, please hurry. I wished from the bottom of my heart. However, there are things that don't change no matter how much you wish. Even as a child, I learned that lesson.

All the lighting equipment was turned off. Of course, Santa, who wasn't here, had no way of knowing that. If Santa stupidly trips the breaker now, it's all over. Santa will at least be recognized as acting strangely and will be fired. Tears came to my eyes before I could even think. These were tears of frustration and fear, but I immediately took advantage of them.

"Mom! Mommy!! Waaaaah!!"

"W-what's wrong? Key-chan?"

A warm sensation ran down my thigh. I was glad I had drunk a lot of juice at breakfast.

"Ah...! Wait! Santa (I called him by his real name)! Excuse me!"

My mother called out loudly to Santa, who was in the room. The power outage hadn't happened yet. I made it in time.

"Hey, hey, what is it?"

Santa peeked out from the back. Santa sensed the situation and brought a bath towel from the bathroom. Even though it was intentional, I was incredibly embarrassed. When Santa covered me with the bath towel, as I was red to my ears, he muttered, "Sorry." The power outage operation ended in failure.

To find the truth, I had no choice but to try the power outage operation again. What was tomorrow's shoot? Would there be an opportunity? I couldn't think of anything due to my disappointment. Since I hadn't slept at all yesterday, I stopped thinking when I crawled into bed and fell into a deep, muddy sleep. That day, I didn't have any dreams.

The next day. For some reason, Santa was at the breakfast table. There were very rare occasions when staff were there from the morning, but it was an unfamiliar sight to have him at the breakfast table. When I asked, it seemed Santa had suggested that since he was worried about my bed-wetting yesterday, I should see a doctor. The one taking me, of course, would be Santa. It was an excuse to be alone again.

Since my sister disappeared, I had been harboring stress I wasn't even aware of, and for the past few days, that had supposedly been causing me to faint and lose control of my bladder. Well, that wasn't entirely wrong. I felt it was a rather forceful proposal, but for some reason, Santa had managed to talk my mother into it. Perhaps Santa possessed some hidden negotiation skills I knew nothing about. However, why would he go to such lengths and take such risks just to be alone with me? In any case, I needed to continue the blackout operation first. I had thought that if we were going to talk, it would be after that. That was until the words that blew those thoughts away flew out of Santa's mouth.

I got my hands on your sister's notebook.

I paused and said, "Huh?" In the dirty car where we hadn't been for days, Santa grinned, his mustache twitching. What did that mean? Did he sneak in during the night? As I struggled to grasp the situation, Santa spoke quickly, as if trying to hide something he felt guilty about, explaining, "I haven't looked inside yet."

Um... before you look at that... that thing... how did you get it? I'm curious...

Santa looked at me in the passenger seat with his eyebrows arched, as if to say, "I figured you'd ask." He looked resigned as he told me the truth of the matter.

Well, you see... the thing is, I didn't think I should tell you this, so I hid it... This is, well. If I get the order of explanation wrong, it'll be a disaster... Your mom and dad are... well, they're a sham couple. I don't know what it says on their family register, but at the very least, they're just living together. They don't love each other. You'd already sensed that long before I arrived, hadn't you...? You're smart, after all.

Santa had casually blurted out something outrageous. It was true that my mother and father only acted affectionate when they wanted to put on a show; usually, my mother treated my father like a servant. I had known it, but hearing it from someone else's mouth didn't feel good. I waited in silence for him to continue.

And so... yeah. Um, actually, it's been since I started working at that house. To put it simply. Ah, how should I say this so you'll understand? Hmm.

Santa furrowed his brow, looked up at the ceiling, and changed his expression several times in a few seconds. Then, with a look of desperation, he looked at me and said this.

I had sex with your mom.

At the time, I didn't understand the meaning of those words, but I understood that it was a relationship between adults that I shouldn't be hearing about. I didn't really get it, and Santa was so flustered that I just replied, "Oh," without asking any further. Regardless, it seemed Santa had been invited by Mom last night and went to the bedroom. Dad was, of course, away. He must have been at the other house. Then, he pretended to be asleep, waited for the right moment, snuck out in the middle of the night to trip the breaker, and searched my sister's room. In any case, Santa had managed to get his hands on what appeared to be my sister's notebook.

I thought I had to get back to bed as soon as possible, so I've only read the beginning, but this is your sister's diary. It's written about her days after she started hating streaming. The truth must be written in here.

My heart pounded. Finally, I would know the truth. Of course, what might be waiting for me is a reality that only adds to my despair. Even so, I hadn't felt like I was living for the past few days. A truly terrible life isn't one where despair is right in front of you. It's a life where despair is hidden from view. Compared to that, I thought it was better to know the truth, whatever it might be.

Santa stopped heading toward the hospital he had no intention of going to anyway and pulled the car over to the shoulder. No one would see us here. Santa slowly took out the notebook. There was nothing written on the cover.

Alright... I'm going to read it...

Santa turned the page.

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