"Okay okay, before we go back to haunted hoodie ideas," Luna said, hands behind her head like she was about to nap mid-call, "let's rewind. Anniversary stream's coming up, right? So let's make it special. Like, origin-story level."
Maris blinked. "Wait. You mean... our debuts?"
Kaia groaned. "Oh no. We're really doing this. I swore I buried that cringe."
"Too late," Tomo grinned. "Dig it up. It's archaeology time."
Yumi smiled softly. "I still remember mine like it was yesterday. My mic was muted for the first ten minutes. I thought no one showed up. I cried after. Then realized... yeah."
"ICONIC," Ryu declared. "That's lore. You started the cursed debut meta."
Maris laughed. "Mine was just me trying to pretend I wasn't nervous while my model glitched every time I blinked. People thought it was a feature."
"The sea never sleeps... but her rigging sure does," Kaia teased.
"What about you, Kaia?" Luna asked, eyebrow raised. "Weren't you the one who accidentally revealed your... actual playlist?"
Kaia deadpanned. "I stand by that playlist. Screamo anime openings are valid."
"Ryu's was chaos," Tomo said. "You tried to rap, remember?"
"Keyword: tried," Kaia added.
"Hey, the chat loved it!" Ryu huffed. "Even if I did rhyme 'keyboard' with 'seaboard' and then panicked and did the worm on screen."
Luna held up her hands. "Let the record show: I had a flawless debut."
Maris: "You fell out of your chair."
Luna: "ON PURPOSE. For engagement."
Everyone laughed. It wasn't just the memories—it was how those scuffed, embarrassing starts somehow became precious.
"GEN:0WAVE," Yumi said, almost in awe. "Can't believe it's already been a year."
"Feels like forever and yesterday," Maris murmured.
They all paused for a moment, just soaking it in. The anniversaries, the arcs, the dumb jokes that turned into inside ones.
There was something sacred about debut day. People on the outside saw the character, the model—designed, rigged, animated—but few really understood the nerves behind the screen. Behind every smile, every wave, every pun-timed line, was a person trying to find their place.
Vtubing was weird that way. The model could be bubbly, immortal, chaotic—a gremlin shark or a time-traveling alchemist. But the person behind it? Just a human, hopeful and scared and dreaming. That distance between avatar and self was both a mask and a mirror.
Maris thought of her own debut again. How she smiled too hard, said lines too fast, and secretly kept a sticky note that said, "You're doing fine. Just keep breathing."
Tomo broke the silence: "Okay but real talk—who still has their debut script?"
Ryu raised a hand. "Mine's laminated."
Kaia: "You're not supposed to preserve the cringe."
Ryu: "Cringe is temporary. Content is eternal."
Luna stretched. "Alright, let's cook up an idea where we recreate our debuts—scuff and all. Like a parody segment."
Yumi gasped. "I can mute myself again on purpose!"
Maris: "I'll blink until my model collapses."
Kaia: "I'll drop the playlist. No shame this time."
Tomo: "And I'll fake cry at the end. For drama."
Luna grinned. "Perfect. GEN:0WAVE's Scuffiversary. Let's make it the most chaotic love letter to our past selves ever."
"Let's."
And somewhere, deep behind every laugh and inside joke, was the unspoken truth that made it all real: that each of them started as a voice in the dark, hoping someone would listen—and found a whole world listening back.