Hololive’s Gawr Gura, the world’s most subscribed VTuber, recently released one last project before her departure from her agency: a music video for an original song titled “Ash Again.” It’s a powerful work that Gura described as essentially baring a piece of her soul to the world.

​​Since then, I’ve found myself playing it over and over again. I dwell on its haunting tone and lyrics, to the extent that I even woke up one morning with its words in my head. “And they all say, tear it down, burn it down.” And as I’ve listened, I’ve also come to a conclusion: “Ash Again” is art in the truest sense.

I generally have a very lenient definition of “art,” and don’t need things to be deep or abstract or be worthy of a museum or even a refrigerator door; expression creates art. That said, I think VTuber music exists in a space where lots of elements mingle. There’s the influence from Japan’s idol culture. There’s the clear overlap with Vocaloid culture, including the fact that many VTubers (including Gura) often cover Vocaloid songs or have Vocaloid producers make new songs for them. There’s the fact that VTubing is a space where one person might perform as a way of emulating the glitz and glamour of a professional or as a present to their fans, while another person releases critical hits on a regular basis. Deeply personal and melancholy songs can come from a dedicated musician or even someone who is much less musically inclined.

It’s therefore not fair to judge all VTuber music by one standard, but it also means that a lot of VTuber music isn’t aiming to communicate complicated emotions like the ones found in “Ash Again.” The song conveys a pain so specific to Gura that, while likely relatable to many people on some level, could not have been made by anyone else. 

For me, what is made crystal clear by this song is that Gura has often been in a dark place these past five years, and that she has both gained and lost a great deal. The opening lyrics talk about how she’s always being told that the memory of her is fading, and that she’s heard it all before. The music video shows her trapped in an enclosed, barren room as she struggles and lashes out while trying to create. It seems to say that there has been a crushing mixture of internal and external pressure on Gura, yet the fact that the outside forces are never explicitly identified makes me wonder what she has witnessed and experienced. 

I’ve seen the negative comments towards Gura: the ones filled with venom from trolls who acted like her absences were grave sins against their very existence, the ones that accuse her of being lazy and ungrateful, and the ones that try to argue that her success was all a matter of lucky timing due to the COVID-19 pandemic. However, the line “Don’t tell me everyone around is waiting” might also imply that the fans who were trying to be supportive with the best of intentions inadvertently added to her anxiety. The words could even be interpreted as coming from hololive itself, as many talents from the company have said that there’s a lot more to working for them than just jumping in front of a screen and streaming. This ambiguity opens it up to a lot of readings, but it also gives this sense of an amorphous demon of the mind.

The music video features two versions of Gura fighting each other. One of them wears what I see as an Atlantean outfit, while the other is in her familiar and iconic hoodie. The former looks beaten down and fed up, while the latter is concerned but still possessing light in her eyes. I see the former as not just representative of her negative emotions, but also her past self before she became “Gawr Gura”—the person who was once blessed and cursed with a different form of success, and who she might return to being when she leaves hololive. I think the fear expressed by the hooded Gura is the notion that this figure we’ve all seen these past five years is fleeting and that her “true” and troubled self is what will remain.

But then, as she sinks deep into the ocean naked, the lyrics give a sense of a girl who’s slowly realizing that what she’s accomplished is as much a reflection of herself, and that her accolades are anything but empty. “No more hands upon my words, they only speak for me” seems to imply that she’s felt the need to keep quiet about some things until now. Then comes my favorite lines of the entire song: “For all the ones who try to silence thunder, I’m the wave that pulls you down and under.” It’s as if this is the moment that she realizes how strong she really is, and that she’s bigger than the voices trying to hold her back or drag her down. 

This is followed by silhouettes of all her genmates in hololive English’s Myth supporting her and bringing her back to the surface, and crucially, this includes Gura helping Gura herself. When the hoodie Gura re-emerges from the sea, she’s able to overwhelm and defeat her other self, who is shown to be more frightened and tired than bitter and angry. In contrast to her violent rejection at the beginning of the video, Atlantean Gura then moves to embrace hololive Gura, and the two seemingly become one. Now solely in her Atlantean form, she makes her way to a door and opens it to leave. I interpret this as Gura finally accepting that who she’s been in hololive is as much her true self as anything that came before, and that she realized this with help from her friends in hololive.

It’s very possible that all of what I wrote is me projecting onto Gura what I want to see, and that it’s just another example of parasocial behavior. At the same time, it’s undeniable that what “Ash Again” conveys is not the same as the other final songs from graduated talents. While it does express sadness and gratitude, the primary feeling is not one of nostalgia, but one of fighting inner demons—or as Gura would put it, brain worms. 

I ultimately was compelled to write about “Ash Again” for a couple of reasons, despite having just posted my tribute to Gura days earlier. First, the song simply struck a chord with me on a very deep and resonant level, and I didn’t want to leave these feelings undefined. Second, amidst all the negativity that can persist in a space like VTubing, I’ve been wanting to more concretely praise the people who have decided to challenge this vast frontier, and who have inspired me in their own ways. After seeing all these graduation, hiatuses, and even sometimes tragedies, I want the people behind these VTubers to know that they’re appreciated.

Gawr Gura of hololive, the most subscribed VTuber in the world, has announced her graduation, set for May 1 Japan Time. As one of the biggest gateways to VTubing, her influence is almost impossible to overestimate. And while Gura’s infrequent streams made people wonder for years whether her departure was impending, to see it actually happen hits like a shockwave nevertheless.

Debuting in September 2020 during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic as part of Myth—hololive’s first English generation—Gura brought comfort and humor to many while shattering virtually every record under the sun. Whether it was her simple-yet-effective character design, her sense of humor, or her remarkably soulful singing, the shark girl from Atlantis helped propel hololive into an international success story.

Gura is often cited as a major inspiration for others to become VTubers themselves, but there really is no one like her. She has that undeniable “it” factor perhaps more than anyone else in this sphere, and while I don’t know if I can fully explain the magic, I do think there is at least one important factor that makes it all click: To this day, even as she’s improved in so many ways, Gura still feels like an amateur.

As creators and personalities gain fame and influence, they often change in ways that reflect their greater status. This is not necessarily a bad thing, nor is it inherently a sign of selling out or inauthenticity, and this transformation often shows up as a greater image of confidence and a more polished presentation. But whether deliberate or unintentional, Gura always comes across as the same goofy and nervous, yet charming and witty girl who’s still fumbling her way through. The way she banters with her chat, the rough edges and scuff that still show up on stream, and even her singing are as if she’s performing for a small audience in a humble little room. Gura somehow manages to work as both an effective source of background noise while you’re doing other things, and as a primary thing to focus on and get lost in her ramblings. It’s like she draws you into her world, but leaves it up to you how far you want to fall in. 

I still remember the handful of times she’s actually responded to me in chat despite the sheer size of her audience and despite me often not being a paid member of her channel. I have to admit that it made me feel a little more special.

(I’m the Shrimp in that clip asking what’s the best thing she ate.)

During Gura’s graduation announcement, she mentioned how the thought of having so many eyes on her would often make her so nervous that she had trouble eating. And in one of her final streams with her friend and genmate Amelia Watson, Gura also revealed that she would ask Ame for advice, all while Gura was seen as the more successful of the two overall. I don’t know if that’s anxiety, humility, imposter syndrome, or simply an open mind and heart, but I can’t help but wonder if this is what gives Gura that “professional amateur” energy. 

I’m going to end this by simply linking two of my favorite things she’s ever done. The first is her 2024 birthday concert, titled “Shark City.” She begins with a surprise cover of the first Legend of the Galactic Heroes opening, sings multiple City Pop and City Pop–inspired hits, and even collabs with the soon-to-be-graduating Murasaki Shion along with one of my favorites in La+ Darknesss.

The second is the final Myth song with all five members, “The Show Goes On.” I still think it’s their best full-gen number.

Thank you, Gura. You’ve literally changed lives, and I hope you find the peace and balance you need to thrive, no matter where you end up.