Maimoto Keisuke. 40 years old. Single. A farming VTuber whose early graying hair is a constant worry. In front of everyone, he laughs loudly, plays mahjong, and gets fired up watching sports. But in the memo pad of his smartphone, there is a list he shows to no one.
"Have I managed to make everyone who's ever been involved with me happy?"
This is the story that unfolds far behind the image he shows on screen. The members of Nijisanji have been saved by him without even noticing. In return, wha
Behind the Blooming Score Sheets - A rookie liver is a crybaby mahjong player—the beginning of a master-student bond and an unsettling DM
Second floor of a multi-tenant building in Akihabara. The private booth at the streaming café "Bridge" shut out the clamor outside, leaving only a cold stillness. Soundproof panels covering the walls absorbed the low hum of the air conditioning.
Akatsuki Nazuna stared at her computer monitor.
Her long, silver-tinged lavender hair was tied high into twin tails. The ends curled inward, swaying over her small shoulders. Her large, dark eyes, moist like a fawn's, reflected the numbers on the screen.
[Concurrent viewers: 0]
Two weeks since her debut. In the private booth of the streaming café "Bridge," she was crying, killing her voice.
The back of her throat burned. Every breath leaked a faint, wheezing sound. She bit her lip and clenched both hands on her knees. Her nails dug into her palms.
*(What am I even doing here?)*
The stream screen showed her own avatar, waving with a smile. But the comment section was empty. No one was there. No one was watching.
She was a new VTuber under Nijisanji. Seventeen years old. A liver who had just debuted, with no achievements to her name. She rented a private booth at the streaming café "Bridge" as a temporary base until she could get streaming equipment set up in her own room.
Nijisanji had over a hundred and fifty livers. Among them, she was the smallest presence of all.
During her debut stream, three comments had come in. All of them were encouragement from the management staff. Ever since, the hours of talking alone had continued without end.
*(Maybe I'm not cut out for this.)*
Tears blurred the image of her avatar on the monitor.
That was when it happened.
From beyond the wall, she heard a voice.
"Ha ha ha! That's what I'm telling you—mahjong shows a person's true character!"
A deep, boisterous voice, yet strangely warm. Clear even through the wall. A man's laughter, coming from the booth next door.
"All right! Look at this starting hand! It's a straight line to Thirteen Orphans!"
The sound of a hand slamming the desk reverberated through the wall.
Nazuna stopped crying.
*(Someone's next door.)*
That fact seeped into her heart, helplessly. She wasn't alone. Beyond the wall, someone was laughing. Someone was talking, sounding like they were having fun.
"Well, don't rush it. In mahjong, you never know what'll happen until the very end. That's what makes it interesting."
That voice wasn't a streamer's voice from beyond a screen. It was the voice of a living, breathing person. A person just a few meters away, in the same building.
Nazuna slowly exhaled.
Her tears dried. The skin of her cheeks felt tight. When she wiped them with her fingertips, she could tell her makeup had smeared.
*(Who is that voice?)*
That day, for the first time, she managed to keep streaming until the end.
No comments came, even at the end. But the laughter from the next booth pushed her forward.
After that, she searched for the owner of that voice.
A senpai at Nijisanji. A farmer VTuber. The person who hosted mahjong tournaments. Maimoto Keisuke.
She watched his streams from start to finish. Laughing boisterously, playing mahjong, sometimes speaking with a serious expression. On screen, he was always bright, always making the people around him smile.
*(I want this person to teach me mahjong.)*
That feeling grew stronger with each passing day.
But she didn't have the courage.
She was shy and quiet. Even minimal conversation with someone she'd just met was difficult. Even in her streams, there was a period where she could only reply to comments one word at a time.
For someone like her to send a DM to that Maimoto Keisuke—
She hesitated for two days.
Opening her phone, closing it. Opening it, closing it. Writing a DM draft, deleting it. Writing it, deleting it.
*(Would it be rude? He's busy. And besides, someone like me...)*
Two in the morning. In the private booth of the streaming café "Bridge," she sat alone, staring at her phone screen.
Outside the booth, she could hear the footsteps of the last customer leaving.
Nazuna took a deep breath.
With trembling fingers, she typed.
*"Please teach me mahjong. I'm the person whose tears you saved that day, crying in the booth next to yours."*
Just two lines.
Two lines she'd rewritten over and over before finally arriving at.
She closed her eyes and pressed send.
The soft *ping* echoed through the quiet booth.
An apartment in the Tama area.
Maimoto Keisuke was smoking a cigarette on the balcony.
The late-night air was cold against his skin. Distant streetlights faintly illuminated the residential neighborhood. He leaned his back against the railing and slowly exhaled smoke.
White smoke dissolved into the night sky.
On the ring finger of his left hand was a silver ring. A keepsake from his late mother. His thumb unconsciously traced the band.
His phone vibrated.
He checked the screen. One DM had arrived.
*"Please teach me mahjong. I'm the person whose tears you saved that day, crying in the booth next to yours."*
The sender was Akatsuki Nazuna.
*(Ah, that new kid.)*
Maimoto knew of her. A newcomer who'd debuted two weeks ago. Active at the streaming café "Bridge." Still barely known.
But reading the contents of that DM, Maimoto's eyebrows moved just slightly.
*("The person whose tears you saved, crying in the booth next to yours," huh.)*
That day. When he'd been streaming at the café in Akihabara. He'd sensed someone in the next booth. But he never imagined she'd been crying.
Maimoto inhaled the smoke deeply once more.
His lungs filled with smoke. Slightly bitter.
The words Genzou had said to him at the mahjong parlor "Noverba" a few days ago suddenly crossed his mind.
*"If your burden is heavy, choose who you set it down with."*
He still hadn't fully grasped the meaning of those words. But in this moment, he felt like he understood, somehow.
*(Maybe by teaching someone, my own burden will lighten a little too.)*
Maimoto operated his phone and typed a reply.
*"Sure. If you're fine with me, I'll teach you. Come to Noverba tomorrow."*
A short reply.
After sending it, he looked up at the sky.
Through a break in the clouds, the moon was showing its face.
The next day.
A back alley in Shinjuku's Kabukicho.
The evening air clung to his skin, heavy with humidity. Neon lights flickered beneath a sky that was still bright.
The sign for the mahjong parlor "Noverba" came into view. Third floor of an old multi-tenant building.
Maimoto Keisuke climbed the stairs.
Black T-shirt and cargo pants. His usual outfit. He swept back his bangs, streaked with premature gray, his deep brown eyes narrowing. The small scar above his right eyebrow stood out faintly in the evening light.
When he opened the glass door, Togami Genzou was behind the counter.
Silver hair streaked with white, slicked back. Narrow, sharp eyes fixed on him. Sixty-two years old. A former professional mahjong player. The owner of this shop, and Maimoto's mahjong mentor.
"Yo, Gen-san. I've got someone coming today."
Genzou gave a small, silent nod.
"A girl. Seventeen, a newbie. She here yet?"
"Not yet."
A short reply. That was all. But Genzou's eyes narrowed just a fraction. A habit of his when something piqued his interest.
Maimoto sat down at the table in the very back.
The time was just past five in the evening. The shop wasn't open yet, and there were no customers. All eight mahjong tables were neatly tidied.
About five minutes later, a figure appeared beyond the glass door.
A small shadow, stopped in front of the door.
Hesitating. Whether to enter, or to go home.
Maimoto called out.
"Hey, come on in. It ain't scary."
The glass door slowly opened.
Akatsuki Nazuna stood there.
Silver-tinged lavender twin tails. Large, dark eyes. A beauty mark beneath her left eye. She stood 152 centimeters tall. Small, delicate, a girl who looked like she might break at any moment.
She wore a pale blue one-piece dress with a white cardigan over it. Her hands gripped the hem of her skirt tightly from nervousness.
"U-um... nice to meet you..."
Her voice was so small it nearly vanished.
She took one step into the shop. But she couldn't move from there. Her legs were trembling—visible even from a distance.
Maimoto stood up.
He approached her slowly.
"Akatsuki Nazuna, right? I'm Maimoto Keisuke. Nice to meet you."
He made a smile. His eyes narrowed into crescents, deep wrinkles spreading across his face. The usual big-brother face he showed on screen.
Nazuna nodded with a small bob of her head.
"N-nice to meet you too..."
Her voice faded out at the end.
Her face was bright red up to her ears.
Maimoto smiled wryly to himself.
*(This is some serious shyness.)*
He remembered his own debut. Four years ago. Days when he couldn't do anything. He always felt like throwing up before streams. The time without comments felt like it would stretch on forever.
*(She's probably the same.)*
"Well, sit down. Have some tea and calm down."
Maimoto seated her in a chair at the table.
Nazuna sat down timidly. She straightened her back and placed her hands on her knees. The posture of someone about to undergo a job interview.
Genzou silently served tea.
Two teacups were placed on the table. Thin wisps of steam rose from them.
Nazuna wrapped both hands around her cup.
"...It's warm."
She murmured in a small voice.
Maimoto sat across from her.
"So, you want me to teach you mahjong."
Nazuna flinched, her shoulders trembling.
"Y-yes... I can't play mahjong... but I want to learn."
She looked up at him with tearful eyes.
Her large, dark eyes wavered, glistening. In those eyes was fear, nervousness, and just a little bit of determination, all mixed together.
Seeing those eyes, Maimoto lost his words for a moment.
*(Ah, she's serious.)*
Her desperation was painfully clear. She wanted to change something. She wanted to change herself. And for that, she'd gathered her courage and come here.
Maimoto laughed.
Not a manufactured smile this time. A genuine one.
"Yeah, I'll teach you."
The moment she heard those words, Nazuna's face lit up.
Her eyes sparkled like a starry sky.
"...Thank you so much!"
This time, her voice was clear. Transparent and lovely, like the ringing of a bell.
Hearing that voice, Maimoto felt something warm stir deep in his chest.
*(Yeah, a smiling face suits her much better.)*
"All right, first we'll start with how to hold the tiles."
Maimoto took out a set of mahjong tiles.
He lined them up on the green mat. White tiles, blue tiles, red tiles. Each one made a light clicking sound.
"Listen, you hold them like this."
Maimoto picked up a tile between his thumb and index finger.
Nazuna watched with a serious expression.
"Try it."
Nazuna timidly picked up a tile.
She cradled it gently with both hands, as if handling something fragile.
"...Like this?"
The tile disappeared completely inside her small hands.
Maimoto barely suppressed a laugh.
"No, not like that... more normally, like, pinch it with your fingers."
"L-like this...?"
This time she pinched it between her thumb and index finger. But she was gripping so hard her fingertips turned white.
"Relax. The tile ain't gonna run away."
"O-okay..."
Nazuna took a deep breath and loosened her fingers.
*Click.*
The tile made a faint sound between her fingers.
"...I did it."
She smiled, looking happy.
Seeing that smile, Maimoto suddenly remembered the old days.
Back when he couldn't do anything either. He hadn't known how reassuring it was to have someone teach you. Who was it that had supported him back then?
The silent late-night call.
The night he'd considered retiring. Someone had stayed on the line, silent. He didn't know their name or face. But that presence—how much it had saved him.
*(I hope I can be like that someone, too.)*
Maimoto thought quietly.
"Next, the types of tiles. These are the manzu. There's one through nine. These are the pinzu, and these are the souzu. And then there are the
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