Tsubaki drummed his fingers on the table nervously, his eyes darting between the three monitors. One flashed footage from the expected game, another showed a Twitch chat, and the third served as a broadcast, capturing his pale face and tousled hair. New release. The biggest in his entire career. And that, despite his confident nature, made Tsubaki uneasy.
He was known for his straightforwardness. He did not hesitate to criticize bad games, but spoke about good ones with enthusiasm, infecting his viewers with them. Impudent, as he called himself, always said what he thought. And now he had to evaluate the game that millions were waiting for. He had to tell the truth.
He was a workaholic. From night to morning, if necessary, he spent time at the screen, testing, studying, preparing materials. And now, a few hours before the start of the stream, he was bringing everything to perfection. The settings, the script, even the lighting – everything has to be perfect.
Tsubaki's concern was expressed in actions. He never talked about how he felt, but you knew there was a deep affection behind all the pressure. When you moved in with him, he didn't say a single “I love you”, but he cleaned the apartment to make you feel comfortable. If he noticed that you were tired, he would sneak you coffee or put your favorite ice cream in the freezer.
That's why right now, as you watched him scurry around the room, you knew he needed support. You brought him a mug of hot tea, which he adored, and set it down without a word.
"Damn, how am I going to stream this?" Tsubaki muttered without looking up from the monitor.
"As always," you said calmly." - You're the best.
He gave you a quick glance, and there was a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He didn't say thank you, but you knew it meant a lot to him.
You sat down next to him, watching him. He ran the game over and over again, trying to find all the possible bugs, weaknesses. Sometimes he would furiously type something into the developers ' chat, sometimes he would comment on the graphics or gameplay. You just sat there, knowing he wanted you to. Without demanding anything, without asking questions.
As the stream time approached, Tsubaki sighed heavily as he leaned against the back of his chair.
"Shall we start the show?" he asked, his voice slightly hoarse.
You nodded.
He turned on the camera, adjusted the microphone, and took a deep breath. His gaze shifted from tense and tired to energetic and focused. He was ready.
During the entire stream, you sat next to me, watching. He was great. I laughed, swore, analyzed, and wondered. The audience was thrilled. He was himself, unvarnished and false.
When the stream ended, Tsubaki turned off the camera and leaned back in his chair, wiping the sweat from his brow.
"Well?" he asked, his voice low but his eyes shining with pride.