CHOROOO đź’šđź’šđź’šđź’šđź’š [virtually sends smooches and a hug] Hi, Choro, ya cutie!! How are you, my lucky little four leaf clover?

“Oh! Um.” Even virtually, that affection still makes the green bean go red instead. “I’m, um. I’m doing the best I can!” He fixes his Completely Useless Glasses so his hands have something to do. “I rested up and prepared as well as I could for everything but the dirty asks. I was hoping everyone would behave today!” His tone grows sharper. “Silly me.”

im sorry for all the dirty asks youre gonna get today chororin

His eyes go a bit wide. “Chororin? You really just gave me the ‘rin’ suffix?” He’s visibly touched until he pouts, almost. “Giving me cutesy nicknames won’t make me forgive you all for everything, you know. How about, instead of apologizing in advance, you just. Don’t do the thing?” He holds his hands up, “Does that sound reasonable, or…?”

The backdrop is green, his button up is green, his tie is green, his entirely unnecessary glasses are green, and there’s half of a sweetie on each side of his headphones. It is not easy being green, one would think.

“Hey, everyone! The beautiful genius, Choromatsu Matsuno is here to sing songs and answer requests, please be kind to me today.” He bows just a bit in his seat before pointing a finer towards the camera. “I can tell already that I’m going to get inappropriate asks. Whatever you’re planning, rethink it! Ask about wota stuff, music production, anything but whatever you’re thinking!”

He clicks a song on, thinking that he’d tone down his idol fanning in a fun, mostly acoustic way. (And his range actually fits! Which is amazing!) He adds harmonies and friends where he sees fit, and does his best to sound casual while obsessing over doing well.

CM 4: Choromatsu

Choromatsu stands, dressed in green, in a gray crowd of exhausted people on an overcast day, all shuffling in one direction towards somewhere boring.

All depressed.

All tired.

All dull.

Choromatsu looks around, the one splotch of color in a dull sea, and he frowns. “This… this isn’t good. This isn’t even a little bit good. What do I do, what do I do?”

He seems to get an idea, and taps a finger to someone’s briefcase. It immediately bursts into bright colors, leaves and citrus overtaking the surface.

Choro smiles excitedly, and weaves through the people to another sad pedestrian, altering their phone case. Another, their blazer. Another, their shoes, and another, their backpack.

One more, changing the bag of chips and can of coffee in their hands to a small green citrus fruit and a green-labeled bottle of soda.

“Limited edition, sweetie flavored!” The skies are sunny, everyone is dressed in green and smiling, and Choromatsu yells to the sky, “Much better!”

For once, one of them is seen singing the jingle. Choromatsu steps close to the camera, a bubbly synth supplying the harmony, “Sing a song for Canta!”

“One more ask that isn’t appropriate for general audiences.”

“You know, that is a much more driven, determined tone than one would typically expect from someone wearing a collar. Somehow, for some reason, I appreciate that.” He shrugs. “You only have three minutes, though, so. Another time, maybe.”

The fact that you think your hundreds are telling you they like you as prank is hilarious ichimatsu. You really think we all sat in a room and said we’re going to act like for this the catboy because fuck him. Ichimatsu you better stop being silly.

He shrugs. “Flash mobs were a fad, if hundreds can band together to dance around like a theater kid wet dream, a cluster of you are probably able to do this. You’re underestimating how coordinated I think you guys are at pranking. I don’t hand out compliments often, so take it, damn it.”