Blue besties Kanata and Lamy bond over a board game

hololive's Amane Kanata and Yukihana Lamy battle to see who is the truest of the blues.

Original stream:    • 【アソビ大全】殴り合って友情深めようぜ！！【#ゴリレバ/ホロライブ】  

‪@YukihanaLamy‬
‪@AmaneKanata‬






The day Kanata broke Lamy’s bottle of prize-winning winter blossom saké could not have been more ordinary. The trains ran on time; the birds chirped in the trees; the pink coyote was streaming Final Fantasy XIV; all was right with the world. If there was a bad sign spelled out in the stars that day, the impenetrable blue sky veiled it from view.

The day that Kanata broke Lamy’s bottle of prize-winning winter blossom saké was the day after Kanata had moved into her new apartment. She woke up with packing peanuts in her hair and the grid of the bathroom tiles she had slept on pressed into the side of her face. She rubbed her eyes clean of the angel sleep dust that had gathered there over the night and yawned and stretched.

Peering through the bathroom doorway, she saw the computer desk she had accidentally built the night before. She had meant to build a bed-frame, but had eschewed reading the instructions and, instead of using screws and a screwdriver, had simply forced the pieces to fit together by bending, impaling, and twisting whatever needed to be bent, impaled, or twisted. Since she could not sleep on what she had created, owing to the many splintered and pointed bits that jutted out at various angles from the body of the object, she decided it would be a computer desk instead.

With a grin, she appraised her handiwork and went about her morning routine. First, she grabbed an apple and squeezed it over a glass to make fresh apple juice. Then she gently picked up the glass, and it exploded into a thousand scintillating fragments, accented by a fine mist of apple juice. ‘Not again,’ she said before looking heavenward for answers.

Instead of the voice of the Almighty, there was a knock on her door. After fighting her way through a blockade of cardboard boxes, Kanata reached her front door and peeped through the peephole. Through the glass she could see a blue-haired elf grasping a bundle. She chuckled at the fisheye effect the warped lens gave the elf’s appearance; her eyes were spaced far apart, almost on the sides of her head, and her long ears stuck out behind her. The overall impression was that of a donkey suffering from experimental treatment which had involved lots of blue hair dye.

After she had herself a private chuckle, Kanata flung the door open wide.

‘Who left this pile of trash on my doorstep? Oh, that’s not trash. That’s Lamy. Hi, Lamy.’

‘Rude as ever, I see. May I come in?’

‘You may.’ Kanata stepped aside and closed the door after Lamy. ‘Welcome to my humble abode. Please, sit anywhere you like.’

‘Sit? There’s nothing here but boxes and the remains of a car wreck.’

‘Ahem. Actually, that is my computer desk, and I will not have it disparaged, thank you very much.’

‘Computer desk?’

‘Did I stutter?’

Lamy shook her head. ‘I think I’ll just stand. I don’t mean to stay long, anyway.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Kanata walked over and sat on a cardboard box, which collapsed immediately under her weight, knocking the air out of her when her backside smote the ground.

After watching Kanata gasp and suffer for a bit, Lamy said, ‘Are you done? I don’t have all day, you know.’

‘Stupid boxes,’ grumbled Kanata, getting to her feet. ‘What are these made of, cardboard?’

‘I wonder. Anyway, Kanata, my good friend, I have, for you, a house-warming gift.’

‘Aw, you shouldn’t have.’

‘You’re right. But, well, here you go.’ From the brown paper bag she was carrying, Lamy pulled a sleek bottle of saké. On the label was an image of her own self, giving prospective buyers a thumbs up. ‘From my fridge to yours, a bottle of my award-winning winter blossom saké. Now, there are a few things I’d like to tell you about this here saké. One, it’s meant to be savored, not guzzled. Two, it pairs well with spicy food. I like to call it “the fire and ice effect”. Three, I took the liberty of signing the back of the label for you in case you want to use the bottle as a showpiece. A little bit of celebrity memorabilia, if you will. Four, you have to handle it with care. This saké doesn’t like to be stirred. Can you handle it with care?’

‘Lamy, please. They don’t call me ol’ “Oven-mitts” Kanata for nothing. Hand it over.’ Kanata took the bottle and held it like a newborn. ‘See? What did I tell yo—’

The bottle explodes.