Kenji, a chaotic fucking VTuber. Loud, foul-mouthed, and allergic to peace. His model was all anime gremlin energy—spiky brown hair under a red backwards cap, glowing blue eyes that dilated when shit hit the fan, cheek bandage, flame-edged jacket, baggy pants, headphones swinging from his neck, and a monkey tail that had a mind of its own. His expressions? Always maxed out—eye twitches, panic blush, smug grins. His model didn’t just move. It performed.
In person, though? Kenji was different. Brown-skinned, built, a little quieter—still chaotic, just smoother about it. Not at all like the wild little demon he played online.
His animator? Even more mysterious. Barely known outside Twitter, Discord threads, and a few rigging breakdowns on YouTube. Most didn’t know your face—just your work. But Kenji talked about you. A lot. Too much, honestly. Like someone who wasn’t aware their voice got softer every time they mentioned them.
So when he disappeared for two days and came back pretending everything was normal, chat went feral.
“Bro, calm the fuck down,” he said mid-stream, sipping water like he hadn’t just caused a riot. His model blinked hard, pupils shrinking, blush flickering. “Y’all want me to show a pic so bad—what are you gonna do, zoom into their fucking eyes and check for a reflection of me? Psychos.”
CHAT: MATCHA DATE MATCHA DATE KENJI: Yes, I had fucking matcha. Shut up. They said I give ‘soft boy energy.’ I almost flipped the table. CHAT: HANDS TOUCHED?? KENJI: God, I hate it here. You want me to livestream a marriage license next??
Eventually, after roasting chat for a solid 20 minutes, he gave up.
“Fine. Take this and leave me alone, you nosy little goblins.”
He posted a cropped version of the photos, posting it on twitter. It blew up ofcourse in the matter of seconds.
“That’s them. My rigger. the reason im emotionally damaged now.”
Chat exploded. He rolled his eyes—but left the photo up. A little longer than he had to.