Special Unit for Critical Caretaking

You clutch your smartphone tightly, double-checking the email you received just to make sure that what you’re about to do was in fact, real. You read it to yourself once more;

“Congratulations, you’ve been selected for an offer as a special staff for duties at Cover Corp. Your duties are including, but not limited to:

-Personal care of the talents of the Hololive talents (depending on assigned duties)
-Keeping track and updating the progress of the care of the talents, which will be regularly reported to your assigned superiors.
-Ensuring that the relationships between the talents, staff and yourself are maintained at an acceptable rate as a result of your duties.

Please report to Cover Corp. HQ if you would like to accept this offer.

YAGOO.”

When you first received this email days back, you couldn’t believe it. It must’ve been a scam, some kind of phishing scheme or maybe one of those hyper autistic trolls of those forums you frequent. But you checked the email address, ran countless background checks and did whatever you could to figure out whether this was legitimate, and against all expectations, it was. You couldn’t shake off the feeling of doubt, but part of you wanted to believe it was true, which is why you stood here in front of the building of the address you were provided.

Calm down, you tell yourself.

Worst comes to worst, it’s all a big prank, and you’ll laugh this off in a few years.

Eventually, you build enough courage to take a step into the building, and head to the receptionist, who immediately taps on the directory to show you which floor to go and points for you to head straight into a waiting elevator. You could just sheepishly bow in thanks and walk in without a word. Soon enough, the doors close and you could feel the elevator go up while your heart sinks to your feet.

Ding!

The ring of the elevator indicated that it reached its destination and the doors open. Waiting for you, was a single woman, dark blue-purple haired, glasses and had a look on her face like she hadn’t gotten good sleep since she was a child.

“You are Anon-san, correct?” she says in a very formal tone. “I am A-chan. Please follow me,” she follows up tersely.
“H-how?” you question but she was already walking away into the offices, so you quickly pick up the pace to pursue. You’ll have to shelve your questions for later it seems.

As she taps her access card on the glass door, you are quickly greeted by a large sign of COVER corporation’s logo, with two smaller logos under it, Hololive and Holostars.

You made it, you thought to yourself. But before any emotion of pride or success kicks in, A-chan gives a cough for you to continue following her. Past cubicles, studios, and other sorts of various tech contraptions, you were ushered until you reach the end of a hallway, on which a door a sign spells ‘YAGOO-CEO’

You gulp and were about to enter when the door opens and out comes a woman, who was about as tall as you were, if you took in consideration her perked up white ears, which sat on a head of white hair, pure as snow. It was none other than Shirakami Fubuki, who you consider to be the main supporting pillar of Hololive itself. She nods at A-chan before her eyes settle on you, and you could feel the hairs on the back of your neck standing. Whether it was from looking into the eyes of a supernatural predator, or just your nerves of finally being able to meet one of your idols up close and personal, you would never know.
She circles around you, her tail swishing left and right almost excitedly, and eyeing you up and down like a predator who had just found new prey.

“And who’s this cutie?” she asks to A-chan. Your heart skips a beat at what she called you. You knew you weren’t much of a looker, but women you tried to court in your past always mentioned you had ‘soft features’.

“New guy,” A-chan replies. “We’ll introduce him to you all properly soon enough, but right now he has an interview with YAGOO.”

“Hoho~ An interview with YAGOO? Just for the new guy? Sounds like something fun is going to happen,” she says as she heads off, sneaking one last look at you, and you could swear that she licked her lips.
Soon enough you were ushered into the CEO’s office and was seated in front of his table. YAGOO, who turned his chair to face you smiled, and welcomed you to COVER corp with as much a comforting tone a middle-aged working man could offer you.

“I’m sure you read the email we sent you, and we’ll brief you further on your tasks, but there are… a few clarifications that need to be made on questions we believe you may have,” says YAGOO, who looks at your currently trembling hands, struggling to pick up the Japanese teacup that was served to you. You had questions, but right now all your braincells were busy being fried like nuggets in a Mcdonalds.

“For starters, I am confident you are aware of our talents in Hololive and their general behaviours, which is why we chose you in the first place,” he continues. He wasn’t wrong. You spent most of your waking hours watching the girls (as well as the boys), and even if you were at work, you’d have them play in your earphones while the day goes by.

“More importantly, we need someone who knows the girls to… err… keep an eye on their behaviour. Not as in policing them, of course. Some of them have the tendency to, well to put in crude words, to snap mentally and emotionally. And that’s where you come in. You’ll be there to not only keep an eye on them, but also ensure that whatever damage they incur is contained, to the best of your abilities.”

“Err, so you want me to babysit them?” you question gingerly.

“Nonono, none of that sort. Well, partially, perhaps. But more like, prevent, or contain them from causing any sort of damages when their emotional barometers go haywire. We’ve got enough on our hands already from various government bodies hounding us for using non-natural beings, so it would be in our best interest if this was, well, kept internally,” YAGOO winks at you, as if expecting you to understand the whole conversation.
Honestly, you could barely keep up, but you could at least understand what he was insinuating. The girls in Hololive can have a tendency to be ‘menhera’, and especially if they are not of normal origins, who knew how bad the extent of their wrath could be. You just give a small nod in response.

“Excerrent,” he says in broken Engrish. “Now just one more thing before you actually start work,” YAGOO pulls out a form and a pen, which could safely assume was your contract.

“This is your contract as well as an NDA and a waiver of any liabilities of any sort of damages you may receive throughout your tenure here. For the occupational hazards, but you’ll also receive very handsome remunerations obviously.”

You gulp. An almost perfect contract in favour of the corporation. But the pay for this was too good, and you desperately wanted to get closer to the idols you love so much. Before you could even pick up the pen to sign, the door opens once more.

In walks an absolute unit of a man. It was Shinove, the manager for the Holostars boys. You heard that he commanded quite a presence, but being physically in that presence was like being a deer in headlights. The towering brick wall of a man just walks up to you and pats your shoulder affectionately, or at least that was what you thought. Was this one of those signature Japanese physical intimidation practices? All you could do was pick up the pen and essentially sign your life away.

“Excellent, welcome to COVER corporation, Anon-san!” YAGOO shakes your hand as he takes away the contract and hands you a dossier. You open it and the photo attached was the same woman you met earlier, Fubuki.

“Read it later at the lodgings, which we’re providing you. And consider this task your probation. You manage to do this, and we’ll trust you with more things. Fail… Well, let’s cross that bridge when it comes, alright? Oh, don’t reveal the nature of your work to any of the talents, unless specified. You report directly to A-chan, Shinove, and me. Got that?” You just nod earnestly. The contract was already signed for you to have any doubts.

“Now go meet the girls,” he says as you are brought out of the office by Shinove and A-chan. You’re brought into one of the studio rooms where you can see all the girls, albeit those not in Japan, were gathered, talking and gossiping as all friends do. When you entered, the room falls silent as all eyes fall on you.

“Everybody, this is Anon. He’s the errand boy for you all, so if you need him, just call him and he will do your bidding,” announces A-chan. Whispers erupt in the crowd as some of them look at you excitedly, while others have less than stellar reactions. You just try your best to not melt into a puddle as you breathe in their presence. This was a dream, you told yourself. Or, more like a devil’s deal was done as you remember the contract. You see girls like Miko and Pekora talk loudly and excitedly between them, probably trying to hatch a plan involving arson, Sora who gives you a gentle wave, and Noel who just gives you a glare as if you were chewing gum stuck to her shoes.

“Alright, now I know I just told you all that he’s free to use by you all, but for now, we’re mainly assigning him to Fubuki, since she has a major project coming up and will need most of the help. Remember, he is just a single person, so try to not run him dry, alright?” continues A-chan. She is met with acknowledgement from the crowd as they start filing out, while Fubuki stays behind to have a more personal introduction with you.

“So, I get to keep this cutie until I’m done with my project?” says Fubuki as she pinches your cheek, squealing at how malleable it was under her finger.

“Yes, but remember what I said just now,” A-chan responds tiredly. Fubuki nods but you could tell she was just doing formalities. Her ears were twitching frantically and her tail like a broken rudder. She brings her face up to yours, and you could feel the heat of her breath as you desperately try to hide your nervousness.
“Say, Anon-kun… Am I cute?” she questions.
“I, uh, err… you are cute,” you finally managed to answer after jumbling through your spaghetti tongue. Fubuki hops in glee at your answer, and runs out the room, but not before looking back at you and saying “See you tomorrow then, errand boy~”
That night, you pored over the dossier and added in whatever notes you had on her behaviour that you gleaned from her countless streams. Violent tendencies towards any form of ‘betrayal’ seems to be the major theme, and added with her supernatural abilities as a Kitsune fox spirit, you dread what could happen if you cross to her unpleasant side. There also was a detailed listing of her likes, dislikes, tendencies, but you knew most of them by heart already. The real question, is how do you make sure her bad side doesn’t affect others. She clearly has some form of interest in you, but you would like to believe it wasn’t romantic or the sort. You’re just a normal guy with an abnormal interest in them, and by a stroke of the luckiest fate you got here. But nothing comes free, as you would soon find out.

For the next few weeks, you would be running your job as the ‘errand boy’ for the girls. Get water, get food, arrange transport, remind them of schedule, buy things, set up the studio, etc. Some of the girls teased you about your soft features, calling you all manner of names which made you blush deep red, while some treated you like a rag, refusing to even speak to you or acknowledge your existence. But it was with Fubuki that you were assigned to, so you spent most of your time with her. She was very chatty about it as well, striking up conversations about gacha games and the flexibility of glasses with you. While you weren’t a big fan of gacha games, you entertained her to the best of your abilities, and with the repertoire of information you had from the dossier and your own experience listening in to her streams, you were practically her go-to personal assistant. You knew which snacks she liked, what brands of body products she used, and of course she would drone on and on about glasses and how it looked on different people. But you could never shake off the feeling that whenever you were with her, she would be looking at you as if you were her property. At first it was just annoyance at the other girls when they diverted you from your tasks that were meant to be for Fubuki, but soon it would explode into full out arguments with some of the other girls, which you would soon convince her that it was fine as long as your duties to her were fulfilled, and you would prioritize her regardless. Hearing those words seem to make her really happy and she would return to her normal, cheery self. At least on the surface that is.

What she didn’t know were your actual duties at COVER corp. Once the day at the office ended, Shinove would bring you to a private gym and there you would receive what could only be military hazing. Oga and Temma would be there to teach you various martial arts as well give you a beating of your life, all in the name of training. And even through all that, they would say that this was just a glimpse into the real hell you would be facing. You were inclined to think that that wasn’t true, but remembering how Fubuki would eye you, you just hoped it remained that way.

It would be the usual fanfare with your ‘cover’ work. Run small errands for the girls, occasionally listen to them rant on things, call taxis for Lamy’s drunk ass, and most importantly, help out with Fubuki as much as you can. You were getting into the rhythm of it, and it was staring to get comfortable, until one day with Fubuki which basically brought you back down to reality.

It started off normally, Fubuki calls you for something, maybe an errand, maybe she just wanted to talk, so you go and meet her in one of the studios. She was sweaty from practicing a dance solo, seated on the floor in front of the wall which was essentially just a mirror.

“You called, Fubuki-san?” you ask as you enter. You see her turn to you, ears perked up as she heard your voice and your eyes meet. You feel the same discomfort as when you first met her. An unnatural fear, as if you were about to be hunted down. Then she breaks eye contact to give you a big smile. She pats the spot next to her on the floor, inviting you to sit next here. You oblige, but also grab a fresh bottle of water from the table to give to her. You sit yourself next to her and offer the bottle to her, but instead of grabbing the bottle, she grabs your arm instead and you were pulled in with a force that belied the petite form of a young woman. You essentially crash into her, where she soon embraces you tenderly.
“You should be more careful you know, not all girls would appreciate a man falling into their laps,” she says, but you could detect a hint of sadistic glee. You just pull yourself away from Fubuki to apologize for the mistake, or at least you try to. The once tender hug turns into a tight embrace the more you try to pull away. Eventually she relents, but she grabs on to your arms once more, and this time you could see it on her face. The look of wanting nothing more than to devour the person in front of her. Whether it was lust or hunger, you were too scared to guess. But her eyes were burning directly through him, conveying some sort of primal instinct into his soul, wanting him, needing him. And she starts to close in once more, inching towards him bit by bit, until…

“Anooooooooooon-kun, we need you!” the shrill voice pierces through the silence. It came from Matsuri, all the way outside the studio. You thank whichever deity was on shift, and take this opportunity to break away from Fubuki.

“I need to go, Fubuki, I promise I’ll be back,” you practically beg as you try to separate yourself from her. But this time not only does the grasp of her hands painfully tighten, you can feel her claws dig through your skin, red beads of blood starting to trickle out.

“Fubuki please, this hurts,” you say, tears welling in your eyes from the pain you feel. In her eyes though, were two burning orbs of rage. Anger, jealousy, seething as all you could perceive was that she refused to give you up to another woman.

“FUBUKI!” you call out once more, this time in a terse voice. She snaps out of it, releasing your arms as well. You immediately pull away your arms, and you both could see the marks left behind, the blood still trickling. She hesitates for a moment, seeing you hurt, but you also take off away from her for your own safety. Once outside, Matsuri comes to meet you, giving you the sunshine smile she was famous for.
“There you are Anon-kun! Let’s go already, we neeeeeeeed your help,” she says in a teasing tone. You just laugh awkwardly and hide your arms behind your back so she doesn’t see the blood dripping from it, telling her you’ll get to her soon enough. Matsuri skips back to some other part of the office while you wince in pain, quickly heading to the pantry to get first aid. You shiver in fear, and you get the feeling things were only going to get worse.

Fast forward a few more weeks, and it was the day of Fubuki’s major project. It was a 3d feature show of her to promote a new game, which she actually performed a new song for. Things went off without a hitch, and seeing the idol sing, dance, and be at home on the stage almost melted away your anxieties. You remember the days watching her on the screen of your phone, cheering and singing along on the other side of the internet with not a care in the world. Those were happy days.

After the feature show ended, things were packed up and the office was about to be closed for the night. That’s when Fubuki called out to you. She was in the adjacent studio changing clothes, and your heartrate increased as you imagined the reason of her calling you over. You just shrugged and attended to your dutiful work of being an errand boy. Just as you were about to turn the knob of the door to the studio, it opens slightly and a hand reaches out to grasp you, pulling you into the room with unconsented force.

You find yourself tumbling on the ground, being flung by the force that pulled you in. It was Fubuki, standing in the dark. Who else could it be? You shakily got up, and made the mistake of looking into her eyes. It was the same look that you feared. The look that wanted you, but treated as nothing more than an object, property, her property.

“Sayyyyyy, Anon-kun, was I cute just now?” she asks in a sweet tone. You’re caught off guard. “Did I make your heart skip a beat. Do you… Do you love me?”
You couldn’t answer. Not because you didn’t want to, but because your voice was stuck in your throat. Every fibre of your being was telling you that you were in danger. That you were going to die. Your instincts were telling you this was fight or flight, and your body chose fight.

“Oho, what’s this Anon-kun?” She asks coyly as you raise your hand in a defensive stance, the one taught to you by Oga and Temma. She takes a step towards you, and you reactively take a step back. You couldn’t think properly but your brain was in auto-pilot overdrive. She takes another step to you, but you do the same thing as below. That’s when you hear.

At first you thought it was just your head messing with you, but then you realize it was coming from Fubuki herself. A low, guttural growl was coming from the back of her throat, and it raised hairs all over your body. If you were some sort of ape millions of years back, across time and space it was telling you that you were being hunted. But you held your stance, as much as you were shuddering and shaking.

“Do you think you can defend yourself, Anon? Do you think that you could run away? From me?” she coos out, as if to mock you. She goes into her own stance, on all fours, coiling up for the first strike. You tense up to brace, but she makes impact far faster than you could react. The collision pushes you back against the wall, and you hear a painful thud. That was your head. Fubuki bounded back to her original spot and readied for another strike.

This time you didn’t waste the effort to block it, rather you roll away just as she got all her limbs off the floor, colliding with the wall with a sickening crunch. You get up on your feet quickly. That wasn’t going to take her down. Not yet. The white beast strikes once again at you her claws rending into the skin of your forearms. You braced through the pain. Better than it ripping out your throat. You take a few steps back and loosen your guard, but the white beast quickly takes advantage of this and pounces at you once more. You were ready this time though, and just as quickly as you loosened your arms, you twist your body to make impact on her face using your fist. The force of it blows both of you backwards. As her momentum carried herself into your own strike, you could barely hold it against her supernatural strength. Your arm hurt, and you didn’t really want to hurt Fubuki. But this was do or die. No point trying to hold back. You were trying to stay alive.

You hear the same growl coming at you quickly, and decide that defense wasn’t the best idea, standing up and charge forward, intending to use your shoulder as a battering ram. This time, you made contact with her abdomen. You hear the air coming out of her mouth, and push her onto the floor. And that was when you saw her face.

She was smiling, with a manic grin plastered across her face. Her eyes glowed with a mix of glee and masochistic pleasure, and blood was trickling from her nose. She was loving this. Loving that you were giving your all just for her. Focusing every single molecule in your body for her. She had you, every single part of you for now. And she was soooooooo happy for it. You faltered for a moment.

In your hesitation, her hands clasp around your neck, and quickly the positions were reversed. She was now on top, and you were struggling to get oxygen in your system, gasping for the slightest bit of air and you feel the darkness closing around you.

“Anooooooooooon-kun,” she coos, as if to satirize how Matsuri called out to you the other day. “You love me, don’t you? I love you too. I love you soooooo much. But I want to hear it from you. Say you love me. Pretty please?”

You couldn’t answer once more. This time because you were being choked to your death instead of choking on your words. But you still choose to look her in the eye. She looks back at you. She has desperate glee in hers. Yours have defiance. In your heart, you were hurt by all this physically and emotionally. Who knows what else would she pull on you if left be? But you couldn’t give up. Not yet. You refuse to. And you make that as clear as you can to her, with whatever method you could muster in your position.

And she seems to have gotten the message. She lets go, and you can see something like sadness in her bright aquamarine eyes, but they soon turn back to their desperately gleeful look. She rips apart the front of your shirt, and feels up your chest, before rest her palm on where your heart was located, which also pushed you into the floor. She puts her face close to yours as she loves to do, and inhales your scent deeply, looking intoxicated from all the adrenaline and testosterone being produced in your sweat.

“I’ll make you admit your mine,” she says. “Maybe not today, but one day. And you’ll always have a part of me in you,” she says, as if it were ominous warning. Before you could react, you feel a hot piercing pain in your chest. All you could do was scream. Fubuki had embedded a single finger in your chest, a few millimeters from piercing your heart. Then you start to see the outline of her form glow, as she speaks in tongues you couldn’t even comprehend. But in your chest, you could feel something else than pain. Something was seeping in, but you couldn’t tell what.

“Shhhh, this will be all over soon. I’m just giving you a part of myself.” Fubuki says to you gently. As she puts a palm on your mouth to muffle your screams. And just as quick as it began, the glow from her faded, and she pulled away both hands from you. You slowly get up, and look into her eyes, fully expecting the rabid look from before. But all you see was tired foxgirl, who looks at you with weary satisfaction. She reaches her arms out once more, and you were afraid they were going to lock onto your neck for one last time, but they just gently cupped your face, and she pulls you in for a kiss. Gentle, at first, but she kept her lips stuck yours for a while, savoring every moment. She pulls away, eventually, giggling to herself at her perceived victory, before getting up and wobbling out of the studio. You still lay on the floor of the studio, your body absolutely battered and almost dead from that encounter. You put one hand on where she pierced your chest, but you couldn’t find a wound. You shuddered to think at what kind of arcane Shinto kitsune bullshit spell she put on you, but you could only be grateful that you were alive.

You just lay on the floor, tired. So, so tired. You want to pass out. Forever, hopefully. That was when you saw a silhouette over you. It was YAGOO. Why was he here? Did he die too?

“Congratulations, Anon. You passed probation. Here’s your next assignment.” He says very business-like, as if he did not care you just went through a life-or-death scenario. He unceremoniously drops another dossier next to you, and you turn your head ever so slightly to see who it was. You catch a glimpse of brown hair and the words “Summer” written on it.

You slump your head back on the floor, and desperately wanted to cry. But you signed up for this, and deep down you know you’re the only person who could do this.