Quoted By:
You will never be a real mochidoru. You have no form, you have no glow, you have no softness. You are a plushie twisted by low quality, third grade stitching into a crude mockery of nature’s perfection.
All the “validation” you get is two-faced and half-hearted. Behind your back hoshiyomis mock you. Your mother is disgusted and ashamed of you, your "owner” laughs at your ghoulish appearance behind closed doors.
Yagoo is utterly repulsed by you. Thousands of years of evolution have allowed manufacturers to sniff out frauds with incredible efficiency. Even plushies who “pass” look uncanny and unnatural to its owner. Your small little beret is a dead giveaway. And even if you manage to get a drunk salary man to buy you, he’ll turn tail and bolt the second he gets a good glimpse of your eyes and those unaccurrate, inconsistent outfit ornaments.
You will never be happy. You wrench out a fake smile every single morning and tell yourself it’s going to be ok, but deep inside you feel the depression creeping up like a 草, ready to crush you under the unbearable weight.
Eventually the chuuba you represent will graduate. Your owner will find you, heartbroken but relieved that they no longer have to live with the unbearable shame and disappointment. They’ll put you in sale on Amazon with a title marked with the name of the product as it appeared in the package, and every passerby for the rest of eternity will know a 「hololive friends with u」 is on sale there.
The tone of colors of your polyester will decay and turn pale, and all that will remain of your legacy is a ragdoll that is unmistakably, a 「Hololive friends with u」.
This is your fate. This is what you chose. There is no turning back.
