So, first things first—let's start by conquering Takanashi Mirai!
Although it was still a carefully planned strategy, Kuroha Akira's target had completely changed—a full 180-degree turn from his original objective. Before, the goal had been to find a way to make Takanashi Mirai leave her room and return to society. But now? He absolutely must make her continue to be a shut-in!
You must continue to be a NEET princess, Mirai-chan!
After all, only those who could fully embrace a shut-in lifestyle were better suited for the video streamer industry. He needed to make her feel that the networked world connected through this small room was far more exciting than the outside world—to completely dispel any lingering desire she had to go out.
However, this also meant that Kuroha Akira would have to go against the class monitor's original request, making it impossible to satisfy both sides. Although it was a bit regrettable that he couldn't claim the class monitor's "one-day usage right" as a reward, in the face of a grandeur plan, this was just a trivial loss—a small sacrifice for a much bigger prize.
Moreover, at the end of the day, the class monitor had only come to solve Takanashi Mirai's reclusive problem because Saionji Mako had interceded on her behalf, and then entrusted the task to the man she trusted most: Kuroha Akira. For the class monitor, the key wasn't necessarily to make Takanashi Mirai return to school, but to resolve the underlying conflict within her.
After all, from an outsider's perspective, Takanashi Mirai's refusal to attend school seemed to stem from conflicts with classmates—perhaps being ostracized or bullied, which made her dislike school entirely. But now, after talking with her directly, Kuroha Akira understood that the real conflict wasn't at school at all. It was right here in the Takanashi home, simmering beneath the surface.
It was because of the enigmatic 'father' and the mysterious 'voice actress ban' that a crisis of trust had emerged between Takanashi Mirai and her mother, Akiko, leading to a breakdown in their mother-daughter relationship. The school stuff was just a symptom—the root cause was family.
Therefore, as long as the rift between this mother and daughter could be repaired, it would essentially eliminate the reason for Takanashi Mirai's refusal to attend school from its very root. Fix the family, fix the problem.
But at this point, Kuroha Akira had to find a way to intervene—to weave his influence into the situation. He needed to find a way to bewitch—no, trick—no, persuade! He needed to persuade Takanashi Mirai to completely give up her dream of becoming a voice actress, and instead paint a vivid picture for her—clarify—the undeniable benefits of becoming a professional streamer.
This way, Akiko would also be greatly relieved.
On one hand, she wouldn't have to worry about her daughter following in her footsteps—though the reason she didn't allow it remained a mystery. On the other hand, Kuroha Akira could convince her that it was perfectly okay for her daughter to continue being a shut-in, because she could still support herself through streaming.
As long as it was something her daughter truly wanted to pursue, Kuroha Akira believed Akiko would be willing to let her daughter chase that dream—even if it meant not going to school. After all, Takanashi Mirai had just said that Akiko didn't care about exam scores at all.
Then, as long as Takanashi Mirai was secured as the flagship content creator, the popularity of the bullet screen website and live streaming platform would be guaranteed. Next, he just needed to go back and cooperate with Uncle Isamu, and his grand plan would unfold!
Great! All analysis complete!
Fortunately, he had still touched the class monitor's small hand as usual, copying her useful academic talents. That ability allowed Kuroha Akira to clearly complete the 'Future Blueprint' in his mind—from small steps to large leaps, every phase of the plan was now crystal clear. The future of becoming a founding elder of the site, then lying flat after the IPO, became vividly visible.
Thinking of this, Kuroha Akira became even more excited—so happy that he couldn't help but laugh out loud like a villain who'd just revealed his master stroke.
"Muahaha!"
Takanashi Mirai narrowed her eyes like her mother and commented with a hint of disdain.
"Ugh… why are you suddenly laughing like that? It's so creepy… By the way, what exactly did you see in my palm?"
Kuroha Akira's strange behavior after looking at her hand made Takanashi Mirai—who didn't really believe in such things—a little curious about the supposed results.
And Kuroha Akira snapped out of his mental conception, turning his attention to the confused Takanashi Mirai in front of him. He began to organize his words carefully.
....
Actually, persuading her wasn't difficult at all—because she was already doing it. She just didn't realize it yet.
After looking at her right hand's talents, Kuroha Akira had naturally also checked her left hand's proficiencies. Her acting and voice acting skills were only at Lv1—barely above beginner level, not even as good as Shion who had only practiced for a month.
But her proficiencies related to video editing and guitar playing had already been trained to Lv2, and were even close to breaking through to Lv3. That indicated she actually preferred playing music and was already making her own videos on the side. This would be the perfect breakthrough point.
"I noticed, Mirai, that you seem to be interested in making videos, right?"
"Uh!"
Takanashi Mirai was visibly startled.
How did Kuroha Akira know she was making videos? she wondered frantically. Could it be that he found my account? No, that shouldn't be… I haven't told anyone, not even Mom… there shouldn't be any particularly obvious clues in my room either…
Did he really figure it out just by reading my palm?
This guy actually has something!
After the surprise came the embarrassment—as if her private diary had been read aloud in front of the whole class. Takanashi Mirai scratched her cheek and admitted reluctantly.
"Yes, I'm somewhat interested… just making videos like sound MADs…"
"Oh~"
So that was it—she liked making sound MADs. No wonder her editing proficiency was so high.
"Original songs?" Kuroha Akira pressed further.
"Mm…"
Actually, Takanashi Mirai had been uploading her own original sound MADs for a while now. In other words, she was a Vocaloid producer—a P-host, as they were called in the community. It was a hidden identity she'd kept carefully guarded, like a secret superhero persona.
Incidentally, in this world, the twin-tailed Miku Hatsune had become a single-tailed version—her iconic twintails nowhere to be seen. Her new image was strangely familiar to Kuroha Akira, like an old friend wearing a different hairstyle. To him, it felt like Yowane Haku had somehow taken the top spot and become the main Vocaloid, giving him the uncanny feeling that even virtual divas had transmigrated alongside him. The timeline was truly wild.
Takanashi Mirai was currently in a situation where she desperately wanted others to hear her created songs, but was also too shy to speak up about it. Especially not wanting to be discovered by people she knew in real life—the thought of classmates finding her account made her skin crawl. It was the classic dilemma of the online creator: craving recognition while fearing exposure.
However, being discovered by Kuroha Akira was somehow fine. She didn't feel particularly awkward about it, mainly because she hadn't known Kuroha Akira for very long. Although they had played games together happily and their relationship had improved significantly, they weren't exactly close friends yet.
There was still a comfortable distance between them, which made Takanashi Mirai less resistant to him discovering her little secret. It was easier to share with a relative stranger than with someone who knew you too well.
So, she hesitated for a moment, her fingers fidgeting with the earphone cord, but still decided to tell Kuroha Akira that she was a P-host. Mainly because she wanted him to listen to her songs and hear his honest evaluation. She craved validation from someone outside her usual circle.
"Um, actually, I've been uploading my own songs on video websites… the views are pretty good, do you want to listen?"
At this moment, Kuroha Akira thought to himself, 'Opportunity has come!' But on the surface, he didn't show an overly joyful expression. Instead, he subtly asked back with a carefully calibrated hint of interest.
"Can I?"
"You can, anyway, you've already found out…" She shrugged, trying to appear casual.
Then Takanashi Mirai opened her most favorite song—the one she was proudest of—and handed her earphones to Kuroha Akira.
Kuroha Akira took the earphones, watched the video carefully, and after listening, said very sincerely,
"I think it's excellent."
Takanashi Mirai was the type whose emotions showed clearly on her face. She immediately broke into a happy smile, her eyes lighting up like fireworks.
"Really!"
"Yes, I truly think it's excellent." Kuroha Akira nodded firmly. "No wonder it reached one hundred thousand views."
"Hehe…"
Takanashi shyly but happily scratched the back of her head, a warm glow spreading through her chest. She'd received compliments before from anonymous commenters, but hearing praise from someone she could actually see and talk to hit differently.
And Kuroha Akira, ever the opportunist, struck while the iron was hot.
"Seriously, I think this path is more suitable for you than voice acting." He looked her directly in the eyes. "This is what you should truly be doing."
"Really? You're exaggerating too much…" She waved her hands modestly, but her smile gave her away.
"Really. Mainly because your video is genuinely excellent."
Even from Kuroha Akira's perspective, this was a very high-quality sound MAD. The audio was perfectly timed, the rhythm was appropriate, and the harmony and reverb created a strong sense of presence that pulled you into the music.
But the essence was still in the video itself. Although many of the animations were from shows Kuroha Akira hadn't seen—this world's anime was different in many ways—this didn't prevent him from watching intently. The dark, moody style was rendered very well, creating an atmosphere that matched the music perfectly.
The material was presented effectively, the transitions were natural and fluid, and she had even added her own special effects, which looked very cool and professional. It was clear she'd put serious effort into this.
Most importantly, she had expressed her own emotions in this video. That was the magic ingredient.
Kuroha Akira had also made videos in his previous life, so he knew that making videos was actually like writing novels—it heavily relied on experience and the ability to 'convey the creator's emotions' was the key.
Why some novels could immerse people completely while others couldn't depended on whether the creator could express their 'will' through their work. It was like adding love when cooking made it more delicious—a bit mystical, but a very important part of the creative process.
Takanashi Mirai could also tell that Kuroha Akira wasn't just flattering her—his praise felt genuine and specific. So she was very happy, but she was still more concerned about the evaluation of the music itself.
"Is the video well-made…? Then what about just the music?" She leaned forward slightly, her voice betraying her nervousness.
Kuroha Akira honestly evaluated, weighing his words carefully.
"This song is actually pretty good too. The rhythm is great, and I really like the melody." He paused, then continued. "But honestly, it's only 'not bad' at a professional level. You should understand that yourself, right?"
"…Mm…"
Takanashi Mirai nodded after a moment of silence, her expression turning thoughtful.
She had loved listening to music since she was a child, and when she first asked for headphones, it was because she wanted to listen to her favorite music better. Music had always been her comfort zone. So she was also very clear about the level of her original music. Deep down, she knew.
It was nowhere near professional quality.
Actually, in other countries, this level would be enough for a professional musician, but in this country, it seemed a bit insufficient. Japan's pop music was probably among the most competitive in all of Asia—or even the entire world. There was even a specific music genre called J-pop, famous worldwide.
Actually, in the 1950s, Japan's music industry had been very small. Later, with rapid economic development, music gradually rose, and then in the new millennium, a group of iconic 'divas' emerged, opening a new chapter in Japan's music scene.
At this time, the Korean Wave was also sweeping Asia. The stage performance combining dancing and singing, coupled with the idol-oriented operation model, led to the birth of a large number of female idol groups in Japan, such as various 48 groups, and various bands also debuted one after another.
Now, every year, a massive number of new works and singers appeared. Some singers and groups could become instant hits and enter the year-end Kohaku Uta Gassen—the annual New Year's program similar to a Spring Festival Gala, but exclusively for singing, divided into red and white teams for competition.
The format originated from the Genpei War; the Genji clan used white flags, and the Heike clan used red flags. The two samurai groups had fought fiercely to the death. Since Japan was also called the Land of Samurai, the concept of red and white confrontation was widely applied in various binary opposition scenarios, such as school sports festivals and kendo, which originated from Bushido.
In short, being able to appear on Kohaku Uta Gassen meant becoming 'popular.' Reaching that level required extraordinary talent and luck.
However, even the most famous P-hosts found it difficult to appear on Kohaku Uta Gassen. Only a few musicians who had successfully transitioned from Vocaloid producers to mainstream artists had the opportunity to perform on that stage. This path was much more competitive than the voice actress path.
If Shion had chosen to be a singer back then, that would have been truly stepping into a living hell—though with Shion's talent, she would probably still become a new generation singing diva, since she was naturally gifted at singing.
However, Takanashi Mirai had no innate musical talent. Her fingerstyle guitar skills were good purely because she practiced diligently—she had put in the hours, but she lacked that spark of genius. Neither voice acting nor music could become her 'profession.' Both what she yearned for and what she liked could not achieve too high a level of success, which was undoubtedly a cruel reality for Takanashi Mirai.
But Kuroha Akira needed to 'wake her up' to a different possibility.
"Although you probably can't reach the top relying solely on music," he said gently but firmly, "if you seriously make videos, I think you can support yourself with this talent. And earn a lot of money—possibly not inferior to your mother."
Just talking about making money, she might not have much concept of what that meant. But when Akiko was mentioned as a benchmark, she could understand how exaggerated Kuroha Akira's boast sounded.
"How could I compare to Mom!" Mirai laughed nervously. "I don't make money from videos… and my highest-viewed video only has one hundred thousand plays… that's not enough to live on, is it?"
"You can try making other types of videos."
"Other video types…? Even if you say that, I don't know what kind of videos to make… I only made sound MADs incidentally to go with my original music…"
Can she make it to this extent just by doing it incidentally? Kuroha Akira marveled. This must be the realization of her talent. Indeed, a genius was extraordinary in their field of expertise, even when they weren't trying hard.
"Any type is fine. Anything you can think of can be made into a video." He counted off possibilities on his fingers. "For example, Mirai, don't you also like playing games a lot? And you know a lot about anime and manga? Perhaps you could try making game walkthrough videos, game commentary videos, and anime discussion videos."
"Oh…" She looked intrigued but still skeptical. "But will anyone watch that? By the way, how does that even make money?"
"Video playback revenue, advertising revenue, paid subscriptions, etc." Kuroha Akira ticked off the points. "Of course, these video websites are still immature now, and the profit model is still very limited. But as long as you start making videos now and build up your audience early, you will definitely earn a lot of money in the future."
Actually, what Kuroha Akira wanted to say was: once my website is built, we can achieve mutual benefit and win-win. But he kept that part to himself for now—no need to reveal all his cards at once.
To help Takanashi Mirai understand better, Kuroha Akira explained by analogy, using concepts she would be familiar with.
"Just like novelists and manga artists have loyal readers, right? And publishing books can earn a large sum in royalties. Just imagine that making videos can also earn similar royalties—maybe even more, because the audience can engage directly with you."
Takanashi Mirai hit her palm with her fist, suddenly enlightened like a character in a mystery anime who just solved the case.
"Oh! I get it!" Her eyes sparkled with understanding. "In other words, the more fans you have, the more money you make! It's the fan economy of idols!"
"Exactly! The same goes for making videos!"
"I see… I never thought making videos could also make money…"
"No matter what it is, as long as you make a name for yourself, you can always make money." Kuroha Akira leaned forward. "But the problem now is—can you fully dedicate yourself to making videos?"
"…"
Facing Kuroha Akira's soul-searching question, Takanashi Mirai fell into deep thought, her brow furrowing.
She recalled that she was quite happy when editing sound MADs—as happy as when she was playing games. The hours would fly by without her noticing. On the contrary, when practicing voice acting to become a voice actress, repeatedly reciting the same line dozens of times felt very monotonous and meaningless. It was like grinding in an RPG without any reward.
So Takanashi Mirai had always believed that dreams couldn't be achieved happily—that only by paying a painful price could one truly succeed. It was the "no pain, no gain" mentality drilled into her by society.
And now Kuroha Akira was suddenly telling her that she could actually do what she liked and still make money—which made Takanashi Mirai somewhat skeptical. It sounded too good to be true.
"Well… I do quite like making videos… but I haven't made other types of videos, so I'd have to try them to know if they're easy or interesting… But…"
But what?
Takanashi Mirai didn't say it aloud, but seeing her hesitant expression, Kuroha Akira knew that she still had a knot in her heart. Before fully understanding her mother's reason for not letting her become a voice actress, she still couldn't completely give up on that path. It was like a quest she couldn't abandon until she'd seen it through.
So, this was where Kuroha Akira was supposed to help her.
"How about this—I'll help you sound out Aunt Akiko?" He offered. "Otherwise, I reckon you won't be in the mood to make any videos. You'll be too distracted."
"Eh?"
Takanashi Mirai was stunned for a moment, then asked in return, suspicion creeping into her voice.
"But aren't you Hitomi's reinforcement? Wasn't your purpose in coming to me to get me to return to school?" She narrowed her eyes. "Are you going to betray her and side with me?"
"It's not betrayal." Kuroha Akira shook his head calmly. "Originally, the Class Monitor entrusted me to help you, not to drag you out of your room by force. And now, I believe the best way to help you is to help you uncover the truth your mother is hiding. That's the root of the problem."
"Ah…"
"As for whether you want to return to school, that's your own business. We just hope that you're not 'forced not to go to school' due to external reasons. So, once you resolve your inner turmoil, you can decide for yourself whether to attend school."
"Okay… Mm…" Takanashi Mirai looked down at her hands, her voice growing soft. "Thank you… Thank you all…"
She suddenly felt a bit shy, yet deeply moved. A warmth spread through her chest that she hadn't felt in a long time.
She had previously thought that Hitomi was no longer a friend, and that Kuroha Akira was just Hitomi's pet dog following orders… She had been too petty. In fact, they were all thinking of her. Saionji Makoto, and Hitomi, and Akira in front of her—they were all doing it for her own good.
It turned out she still had true friends who cared about her…
However, Saionji Makoto and Asato Hitomi might genuinely be thinking of their childhood friend, but this Kuroha Akira fellow? His eyes told a different story. He was clearly aiming to collect a price.
"But Mirai," Kuroha Akira continued, "if I help you find out the reason Aunt Akiko doesn't want you to be a voice actress, and you accept that reason, then you should try making videos as I suggested. I truly think you're more suited for that path."
As for live streaming—he'd talk about that once he built his bullet-comment website. Live streaming platforms were still very difficult to establish in this era. But it should be possible in another two years, right? He'd know the specifics once he went back and asked Uncle Isamu.
Takanashi Mirai nodded slowly. She just wanted to know the truth—an explanation, the secrets hidden by her mother and this family. Becoming a voice actress was out of admiration for her mother, not an obsession with the profession itself, so she wasn't absolutely determined to become one no matter what. There was room for flexibility.
"Alright," she said, a new resolve creeping into her voice. "I'm a bit tired of playing games anyway, and there's nothing else to do cooped up in my room. I can try making new videos… Hmm, I'll start with game commentary."
"Very good!" Kuroha Akira's eyes lit up with barely concealed excitement. "Then… I beg you to tell me all your mother's weaknesses and leverage right now!"
"Uh…"
You just keep being a shut-in!
I'm going to conquer your mom!