Mari Tomari is a VTuber who uses a voice changer to play a cute girl, but inside, she's a nearly thirty-year-old man named Mario. Tonight, she's streaming, throwing poison at her audience while raking in superchats. But the moment the stream ends, his smile vanishes.
"Ah... I'm exhausted."
In the corner, fiddling with her phone, is Yuki—his childhood friend and manager. She's the only one who knows Mario's true face. She's watched over his "real self" since they were kids.
"Good work. Your cl
Behind the Bunny - Mario (Tomari Mari), After the Final Stream
The buzzer rang.
Beep-beep-beep, beep-beep-beep — the grating electronic sound vibrated through the air of the room, sealed in soundproof panels. Mario glanced at the timer sitting on the desk beside the monitor, and exhaled deeply, deeply. It felt as though something heavy and unidentifiable that had pooled at the bottom of his lungs was leaving him along with that breath.
"Alright then, that's it for today! I'm gonna wreck you, Usa-chan, okay? Hope we can meet again tomorrow!"
Inside the monitor, the girl blinked her big pink eyes and waved. Fluffy white hair, long ears, and a smile that was oddly charming despite the venom she spat. Her name was Tomari Mari. A popular VTuber with hundreds of thousands of subscribers, riding the crest of the wave.
Mario operated the keyboard and ended the stream. The girl vanished from the screen, replaced by the desktop wallpaper — an image of nothing but a small moon floating against a pitch-black background.
Then he brought his hand to his ear. He removed the small earbud-style voice changer. Instantly, the magic dissolved from the world.
"...Ahh, I'm beat."
It wasn't the voice of a cute girl. It was the hoarse, low voice of a twenty-nine-year-old man. He looked at his own face reflected in the edge of the monitor. A man with tired eyes, short black hair. His bedhead was sticking up at the back of his head. On his left ear, a single piercing hole from long ago remained, lonely and empty.
(I talked a lot today, too.)
His eyes met his own reflection. Usa-chan had been perfect today as well. Calling out the names of people who sent superchats, thanking them in a sweet voice, occasionally spitting venom, making the viewers laugh. A perfect entertainer.
And yet — why did it feel so hollow?
"Good work."
A soft voice came from the corner of the room. When Mario turned around, Yuki — who had been sitting at a small folding table by the wall — looked up from her phone and smiled. Her black hair, which reached her shoulders, was always tied in a single bundle, and today too a few stray curls bounced beside her ear. Her gentle brown eyes, which curved into crescent moons when she smiled, narrowed slowly in the dim room.
"Today's clip is blowing up."
Yuki said this and turned her phone screen toward Mario. On the video platform "Shorts," a clip she had edited was displayed. The thumbnail captured the moment Usa-chan had spat venom during the stream, her mischievous expression frozen in time. The view counter was already approaching five digits.
"This one hit forty thousand views three hours after posting. The comments are exploding too. 'I love Usa-chan's venom,' 'This gap is irresistible,' 'I've replayed it so many times'... See, that many."
She scrolled the screen with her finger, reading a few comments aloud. Her voice resonated pleasantly in Mario's ears. A voice he had been hearing since childhood.
"The real me's just some ossan anyway. If these guys found out, they'd probably puke."
Mario leaned his weight against the back of the chair and stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling, covered wall-to-wall in soundproof panels. A twenty-five-square-meter one-room apartment. This was his castle, and his prison.
"'I'm gonna wreck you, Usa-chan' — yeah right. The guy behind it lives on convenience store bentos and cup ramen, an exercise-deprived twenty-nine-year-old."
"There are people who need your voice. That's not a lie."
Yuki's voice was quiet. Not strong, not weak — just a tone that confirmed a fact. Still staring at the ceiling, Mario let out a small laugh.
"...You're kind, Yuki."
Too kind. And that kindness stung, just a little, right now.
Yuki said nothing, set down her phone, and stood. She went to the kitchen — though it was really just a space with a small sink — and took a plastic water bottle from the refrigerator. Watching her from behind, Mario thought: Yuki had been by his side as his manager for three years, ever since he started streaming. Managing his schedule, negotiating deals, handling PR fires, and editing clips after every stream. Without her, his spirit would have broken long ago.
"Here."
Yuki returned and placed a glass of water on the desk. A droplet traced slowly down the outside of the glass. Mario said a short "Thanks" and reached for it.
A brief silence fell between them. Only the faint sound of the air conditioner's breeze circulating through the room could be heard.
"...Mario."
"Hm?"
"Are you pushing yourself?"
Yuki looked straight into Mario's eyes. Her gaze wavered with worry. But somewhere in it, there was also a strength — as though she were trying to confirm something.
"I'm not pushing myself. This is the path I chose."
Mario said this and smiled. It wasn't a smile from the heart. But he didn't want to worry Yuki. He didn't want to cause her any more trouble.
(I'm fine.)
He repeated it in his mind. Because if he didn't, he couldn't hold himself together.
Yuki opened her lips as if she wanted to say something. But in the end she said nothing, and let out a small breath.
"...Okay. But if anything happens, tell me properly, alright?"
"Yeah."
Mario nodded and took a sip of water. The cold water moistened his dry throat.
After that, Yuki began getting ready to leave. She put her laptop into her bag, and pulled on the thin cardigan that had been hanging on the chair. Her apartment was one station away, five minutes by train from Mario's place.
"I've got a stream tomorrow too. Get some proper sleep, okay?"
"Yeah, yeah."
Yuki turned around at the entryway and smiled one more time. Then she quietly closed the door. The click of the lock echoed with strange loudness.
Alone in the room. Mario couldn't move for a while.
(Alone again.)
During a stream, there were tens of thousands of viewers. Comments flowed, superchats flew, people listened to Usa-chan's voice. But once the stream ended, only he remained in this room surrounded by soundproof panels.
Mario slowly reached for the desk drawer. The bottom one, the one with a lock. The key was hidden under the keyboard.
He inserted the small key and turned it. With a click, the drawer opened.
Inside was a single clear file folder. A bundle of faded papers. Mario took it out and spread it across the desk.
'Nokutaria Member List'
'Server Access Log 2:00 AM–4:00 AM'
'Archive Deletion Status Summary'
Familiar words surfaced under the fluorescent light. Three years ago. The incident where all archives of the VTuber group "Nokutaria" were deleted simultaneously in the dead of night. The members vanished, and the group was effectively forced to disband. Even now, it was still talked about in corners of the internet — that incident.
Mario picked up a single sheet of paper. The member list. On it, a row of names he recognized.
"...Back then, what was I doing?"
He muttered, and clutched his head. He couldn't remember. No — maybe he didn't want to remember. That night three years ago sat at the bottom of his memory, sunk like a dark, heavy mass.
(I, back then—)
He got that far, then shook his head. No. Don't think about it anymore.
He returned the documents to the clear file and put it back in the drawer. Locked it, and put the key back under the keyboard. His heart was beating just a little faster.
(Forget it. Forget it. I'm Tomari Mari. A cute, venomous, popular VTuber. That's enough. That should be enough.)
He repeated it in his mind, as if convincing himself.
That was when it happened.
Bzzz, bzzz, bzzz.
His phone began vibrating violently on the desk. Seeing the name on the screen, Mario furrowed his brow.
'Rapu-chan.'
One of his fellow streamers. A bright, energetic junior VTuber. Not the kind of girl to call at this hour of the night.
Mario pressed the call button.
"Hello?"
"Mario-kun! It's bad! Something terrible happened!"
A desperate voice burst through from the other end. None of her usual cheerful tone remained. Her voice was trembling.
"Hey, what's wrong? Calm down."
"I can't calm down! The archives got deleted! My Muse Live archives — all of them, gone!"
"Huh? What are you talking about..."
A cold sensation ran down Mario's spine.
"The archives got deleted — did you file a deletion request with the management?"
"I didn't! I didn't file anything! They just disappeared on their own! Today's stream archive, the old ones, all of them! And that's not all, Mario-kun!"
Rapu-chan's voice trembled even more.
"An acquaintance at management told me there was suspicious external access to your past stream data too. Nothing's been deleted yet, but someone is looking into it."
"...What did you say?"
His heart gave a single, heavy throb.
"It's the same as three years ago. The same thing that happened that night three years ago is happening again. I know. What happened back then. I saw it. That's why I'm scared. Mario-kun, I'm scared..."
Rapu-chan burst into tears on the other end of the line. Her words pierced Mario's chest.
The same as three years ago—
The Nokutaria video deletion incident. It had been the same then, too. Without any warning, the archives vanished, and the members were driven into a corner.
(No way. Not again.)
"...It's okay. I'll handle it somehow."
Mario forced the words out. It was bravado. There was nothing he could actually do. But he had no choice but to say it.
"Mario-kun..."
"Anyway, get some rest tonight. Staying up late'll wreck your skin, you know."
"...Okay. Sorry for calling so suddenly."
"Don't worry about it. I'll contact you tomorrow."
He hung up. Silence returned to the room once more.
Mario couldn't move for a while, still gripping his phone. Sweat seeped damply into his palm.
(Rapu-chan's archives got deleted. Suspicious access to my data too. The same as three years ago...)
His head spun in circles.
Mario opened the social media app. Maybe there was some information. Thinking that, he scrolled the timeline.
Then he noticed a single direct message had arrived. The sender was an account he didn't recognize. The icon was a white rabbit silhouette against a black background. The username was—
'Bunny Hunter.'
His heart pounded painfully. His fingertips trembled. Mario opened the message.
'I remember the sin you have forgotten.'
Just one line. That was all the message said.
"...What the hell is this?"
His voice shook.
Someone is watching me. Someone knows my past. About that night three years ago. About what I'm trying to forget.
Mario hurriedly looked outside the window. Through the gap in the curtains, the light of a streetlamp filtered in thin and pale. Outside was quiet. No one there. ...Supposedly.
But it felt like he was being watched. From somewhere in the darkness, eyes fixed steadily on him.
Cold sweat ran down his back. His breathing grew shallow.
(Who are you. Who the hell are you.)
Staring at the phone screen, Mario couldn't move.
How much time had passed?
Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening.
"Mario!"
He looked up as if struck. Standing there was Yuki, out of breath.
"Yuki...? Why—"
"Rapu-chan contacted me. She said something might have happened to you."
Yuki came into the room without even taking off her shoes. Her face was pale. She snatched the phone from Mario's hand and looked at the screen.
"...Bunny Hunter."
Yuki's voice dropped low.
"Yuki, do you know him?"
Yuki stared at the screen for a while. Then she slowly returned the phone to Mario.
"I don't know him. But this is clearly targeting you."
"...Yeah."
Mario nodded weakly.
Yuki crouched down in front of Mario. Her face was very close. Her eyes looked straight up at him. In those eyes dwelled fear — and a strong light of determination.
"I'm here."
Yuki gripped Mario's hand, wrapping it in both of hers. Her hands were cold. Because she had run here from outside. But beneath that coldness, there was a definite warmth.
"I'll always be by your side. You're not alone."
Mario couldn't say anything. The war
Novelia is an AI-powered platform to read original light novels and fan fiction, create your own in just a few taps, and chat with the characters. New, illustrated episodes arrive daily — free to start.