The fan meet and greet began a bit differently from the ones she had seen before. Ordinarily, an agency books out a building or public space before they cordon off the lines where fans will stand and await their turn. Konma was not an average idol though, both in popularity and constitution. Her audience was a ragtag group online and she had never received calls back from the buildings she had wanted to rent. They had agreed to allow her when she had said she was a vtuber, but then they had searched her after the fact and decided not to give her the time of day.
Eventually she had found a cheap building in a rundown part of town. The grass hadn’t been cut in some time and the door howled when it opened, but the lights inside turned on and there was plenty of space to allow everyone to keep their distance. Gashiya helped her set up a long table and some chairs. A number of posts and chains sat in the backroom of the building, which they used to set up a small waiting area.
By the time they had finished, they checked outside the building and there were already several fans waiting. They decided to wait a few more minutes for others to show up, but there were only half a dozen even as time stretched on. She hadn’t expected crowds, but Konma felt somewhat disappointed.
Gashiya motioned to allow the first fan through to shake Konma’s hand, but he turned to looked at the  others. “There are only a few of us. Isn’t it okay to go in at once? It seems like it’d be too much trouble otherwise.”
She shrugged and let them in, making sure they stayed in a single line. Konma sat behind the table and looked at the six standing before her, three men and three women. She wasn’t sure what to do and could feel the pressure of their stares on her. “Who was f-first in line?”
A man stepped forward and extended his hand. She stood gently and held it.
“You’re an inspiration! Thank you for being there for me and sharing yourself with us!”
Konma blushed and in turn each fan stepped forward, shaking her hand and uttering long formal strings of appreciation which made her stutter out quiet thanks. She hadn’t thought they would be so sincere. And each gripped her hand so tight like they were savoring the feeling while they could. After they had all shaken her head, they still stood before her and she smiled at each of them.
“It feels weird to just send everyone home,” Konma said, not wanting them to leave yet. “There are only a few of you. Does anyone have any questions?”
“Is there a stove or a grill?” one of them asked, pointing behind her towards the kitchenette in an adjacent room.
Konma turned with confusion.
“I believe so,” Gashiya said.
“We should all talk over food. It will be awkward otherwise, don’t you think?”
“But we don’t have any-“
“I can go get something, there is a conbini right on the corner,” Gashiya nodded. “If you don’t mind, Konma.”
She couldn’t say no and hurt her dedicated fans. Konma gave a helpless shrug of her shoulders.
“I’ll be right back!” she said, and was heading out the door.
As soon as she was gone, one of the women started forward. Konma tensed slightly, but then she saw she was heading towards the kitchen. “Is there really a stove? I don’t see one. Oh, there it is!”
Meanwhile, the others had stepped closer to the table and their stares were just as filled with love as before, yet that love now felt oppressive. One of them pulled up their sleeves and another reached down towards their shoe and came up with a knife that was sharp enough to catch the shimmering light from the old ceiling bulbs that flickered every few seconds.
“Don’t you want to do an experiment for your fans?” The woman asked setting the knife on the table.
Konma looked up at her and then down at the blade. It was like a pocket-sized machete. The woman must have brought it, in the hopes of anticipation of this situation occurring. Konma stared at it, wondering what to do, what they wanted her to do.
The man who had pushed up his sleeves took another step forward. “I’m sorry,” he said, clenching his fist. “I’m so sorry, Konma! I love you!” He swung back and then she was tumbling to the ground, the metal chair clattering shut on the hard floor. Her cheek burned with pain. She could hear the others restraining him, berating him for doing so, but the pain had begun to ignite her own passion. Konma used the table to gain her footing. She could already feel her cheek swelling, her vision blurring with tears.
“Watashi wa dareda?” she said, grabbing the knife. “Watashi wa dareda?”
Her fans looked back at her with a mix of surprise and elation. The woman who had been inspecting the kitchen returned and wrapped her arms around Konma from behind. “Konma, we want to know what you taste like.” She followed Konma’s arm down to her hand and squeezed it’s grip on the knife. “Will you let us taste you?”
Konma looked at the knife, throwing her fears away as she so often had. She gave a nod. The woman gently pulled the knife out of her hand and then set it on the ground. “Before you cook meat, you need to tenderize it.”
She watched as the others walked around the table and each had their turn stomping on her splayed hand. Pain shot up her arm, but the woman helped her stay steady and also helped muffle the screams that came forth unwelcome from her throat. Breathless, she pulled herself away from the woman’s grasp and set her broken hand on the table. She grabbed at the knife but her hand was shaking, unsteady, her muscles still in shock.
One of the men grabbed it from her, hands slow and strong. He held it confident and natural and held her arm down like it was the body of a fish, then brought down the knife hard like he was chopping off its head. Pain filled her mind, but she pushed it away into the void and looked up into the faces of her cherished fans who looked at her with such pleasure that she thought she would slip away.
The door to the building opened and Gashiya came in with a plastic bag. She saw what was happening and rustled around inside to bring forth bandages which her fans quickly set to applying. Her hand sat on the table, moving beyond her control. They all touched it and she could almost feel their touch herself.
“You need to apply pressure properly,” one of the men admonished her, readjusting how she held the bandages. “otherwise you’ll keep bleeding.”
“She doesn’t bleed much, because she’s plant-based,” Gashiya reminded them from the kitchen where she was emptying the shopping bag of vegetables onto a counter. “Can you bring that knife over here so I can chop these? The pan is already hot so we can start frying things.”
The chair was unfolded and she sat in it. One of the women stayed at Konma’s side, stroking her hair and telling her that she was adorable as the hissing sounds of frying vegetables filled the air. Then there were the sounds of cartilage being separated from bone and the sweet smells of frying meat began to grow. It turned her stomach to imagine it was her own, and yet she found herself aroused, as she had since first laying eyes on her group of fans. The woman left her side and she watched all of them crowding around the stove, wafting in the smell and then each reaching down and grabbing a brown shaft and lifting it to their lips.
“Delicious!”
“It’s so good!”
“As expected of Konma!”
Konma could feel her body shaking and she wore a dull smile as they stood around talking and laughing.
“Aren’t you still hungry?” Konma asked. “There’s plenty more.”