Steins;Gate was being dragged down by the Japanese media from every possible angle.
AD had its fair share of praise, but in the end, the first season was still a fairly ordinary romance slice-of-life story. It was well made, no doubt about that, yet its excellence remained within a certain range. It was not the kind of work that could leave people truly stunned.
Liar Game, however, was the exact opposite.
Its reception was overwhelmingly positive.
And that made things rather awkward for Sora's haters. There simply was not much room for them to attack.
This season, the four major broadcasters had made a series of aggressive moves with one clear objective: to suppress the Southern Alliance's ratings and, along the way, strike at Sora, who had been steadily taking a larger and larger share of the anime industry's market.
In the field of animation, they had indeed managed to restrain the momentum of his two new works. But who could have imagined that, by handing the Southern Alliance nothing more than a script, he would also create this kind of impact in the television drama industry?
What kind of person was he?
Everyone knew Sora was talented.
He was young, overflowing with ideas, capable of working as Kantoku, screenwriter, and even music supervisor for his own projects.
But even genius was supposed to have limits.
The script for Liar Game did not look simple in any sense of the word. From the first episode until now, the entire story had been driven by psychological warfare, schemes, manipulation, and layers of deception. How could Sora write something of that level in less than a week while simultaneously handling the intense production schedules of AD and Steins;Gate, then hand it over to the Southern Alliance to adapt into a drama?
This season, the four major broadcasters had placed their heaviest bets on anime. As for television dramas, it did not truly matter which of them took first place. As long as the Southern Alliance, which had always been weak in that area, did not reach the top, that was enough.
But that was precisely the problem.
The very field where the four major broadcasters looked down on the Southern Alliance the most was about to be stolen from right under their noses.
The ratings for Liar Game were already approaching 4.9%.
One more step, and it would surpass Aobane TV's drama to become the highest-rated television drama of the season.
What counted as achievement?
This was achievement.
If the four major broadcasters joined forces this season to suppress the Southern Alliance and still allowed it to accomplish something like this, the reputation they had built over so many years in the Japanese market would suffer a heavy blow. Advertisers across the country would naturally start having thoughts of their own.
So, in the end, this is all the four of you amount to?
Once that impression spread, a massive wave of advertising money could begin flowing toward the Southern Alliance.
Seiun TV, Shirakawa TV, and HaiOn TV had never imagined there would come a day when they would so desperately hope for Aobane TV's drama to perform as strongly as possible.
After January entered its final stretch, the workload in Sora's hands finally began to ease.
During the three years since he had inherited everything and thrown himself into that world of debts, studios, and anime production in Tokushima, Sora had come to understand one thing: if he did not want to work himself to death, he had to learn how to delegate.
Unless it was a work with an extremely distinct authorial style, like those of Makoto Shinkai or Hayao Miyazaki, where even a careless alteration could seriously damage the final result, not everything needed to pass directly through his hands.
For Steins;Gate and AD, the Kantokuial style was not exactly the main selling point. What carried those works were the characters, the visual identity, and the story.
Because of that, Sora began transferring most nonessential tasks to the episode Kantokus and teams responsible for each part of the two productions. As much as possible, he limited himself to the final review and quality control stage.
Likewise, Sumire, who also served as one of the animation Kantokus, saw her workload reduced considerably.
After pushing through the chaotic and meticulous early preparation phase for both productions, the two of them finally gained a little breathing room. At the very least, they could now leave the studio before seven in the evening.
"This is what a human life is supposed to feel like."
Sora looked at the melting snow along the streets of Tokushima, a cup of coffee in his hand, and let out a sigh that sounded almost emotional.
"For almost two years, my life has been nothing but home, the studio, and meetings. Today, I actually had free time in the afternoon to drink coffee."
"I told you more than once that there was no need to place production cycles so close together," Sumire said. "At some point, you need to leave yourself time to rest."
"No, no. In terms of the number of works the company produces each year, I don't think it's that much." Sora shook his head. "What I'm saying is that I used to worry too much for no reason. I always felt that if I didn't personally supervise every detail, these works would have a higher chance of failing to adapt to the Japanese animation market. But Liar Game proved otherwise. I only threw a script over to the Southern Alliance, and their team still produced it properly."
He turned his head toward Sumire.
"The average level of professionals in the Japanese television industry really is high."
"In the end, Liar Game only became popular because the quality of your script is high. That, combined with suitable casting." Sumire took a quiet breath. "It's just a pity. A work like this could have been turned into an anime by our own company. Instead, we handed the Southern Alliance a huge gift."
As she thought about it, a faint trace of regret appeared on her face.
"Hahaha… you really are a workaholic." Sora froze for a second, then looked at her with a teasing smile. "Just now, you were saying I make too many works. And now you're complaining because I gave the script for Liar Game to another broadcaster?"
"If you had turned Liar Game into an anime and given Steins;Gate to them to adapt as a drama, the public opinion against you online in January would never have been this heavy," Sumire replied.
"You're not wrong." Sora nodded. "A work like Liar Game has an extremely high floor. Add in the popularity I accumulated after Re:Zero and 5 Centimeters per Second, and an anime adaptation would most likely have passed 5% in ratings with stability."
He looked at Sumire.
"But for me, right now, am I still lacking an anime that can pass 5%?"
Sumire fell silent.
"The ceiling of Liar Game is not as high as Steins;Gate. If I want to break the 6% ratings record set by Re:Zero, I can only rely on Steins;Gate and AD. Liar Game would not reach that level."
"So that's what you were thinking…"
When Sumire heard that, a faint doubt that had been lingering in her heart finally disappeared.
"Of course." Sora smiled. "Or did you think I'd be like Naofumi, Hinata, and the other Kantokus competing with us this season? The kind of people who achieve good results and then half-retire for twenty years, never once thinking about surpassing themselves?"
He took a sip of coffee and continued.
"Well, I need to get ready too. Tonight, I still have to go to the Southern Alliance headquarters for a program recording. After all, Liar Game is extremely popular right now. I should cooperate with the broadcaster's promotional efforts."
"You should leave early too," he added, glancing at Sumire. "I specifically adjusted the work schedule to reduce some of the less important production duties you were responsible for in both animations. Come to think of it, it's been more than four years since you graduated. Spending all this time completely immersed in work is too dull. There's more to life than work."
Sumire stood still for a moment, stunned.
Only after nearly half a minute did she understand what he meant.
He was telling her to use her free time to find someone to date.
"Aren't you the same?" Sumire did not get angry. Her tone remained calm. "5 Centimeters per Second, Re:Zero, AD… all your works are filled with romantic elements. But in real life, you don't even have female friends. If we're being honest, maybe dating someone could even stimulate your creative inspiration for this kind of theme. You're the one who should use your free time to meet more girls."
"Don't make romance sound so utilitarian." Sora's expression turned strange. "Dating someone just to gather creative material? What kind of logic is that?"
Then he raised his chin slightly.
"And who said I don't have female friends? You, Yumi, Kaoru at the front desk, Natsuki from character design…"
"Those people are either your subordinates, your business partners, or your investors." Sumire's smile was gentle, but there was a clear edge of mockery in it. "That counts as having female friends?"
"When you put it like that, I feel hurt." Sora sighed. "Leaving aside the newly hired employees, at the very least, you and I have worked together for almost four years. We've produced five or six anime together. If we set aside our positions in the company, don't you think we can be considered friends?"
As he spoke, his voice gradually became quieter.
After all, continuing this topic felt strangely delicate. The subject before and the subject now were close enough that it was easy for the conversation to drift in an odd direction.
Sumire seemed to realize that as well.
Almost at the same time, both of them raised their coffee cups and fell into silence.
Sora glanced lightly at her pale, beautiful profile. He noticed that Sumire's ears were not red, her eyes were not darting around unconsciously, and her fingers were not hidden behind her back, nervously playing with her nails. Only then did he relax a little.
She was not angry.
That was unexpected.
But, deep down, Sora could not help thinking instinctively:
Why was she not angry?
If this had been before, with her personality, she probably would have already said something like, "Kantoku, please focus on your own duties and stop interfering in other people's private lives."
Clack.
At that moment, Yumi opened the office door without the slightest courtesy, not even bothering to knock. As soon as she entered, she saw the backs of the two standing before the enormous floor-to-ceiling window, each holding a cup of coffee as they watched the sunset, the snow, and the city.
"Oh… looks like I came in at the wrong time. Sorry for interrupting your private moment."
Her voice was full of teasing.
"Yumi."
"Yumi."
Two stern voices rang out almost simultaneously.
Seeing Sora and Sumire turn around with slightly embarrassed and irritated expressions, Yumi blinked.
"I only made a joke. Why are you two reacting so strongly?"
Before the atmosphere could become even stranger, she quickly changed the subject.
"Anyway, I came to inform you, Sora. The box office revenue share from 5 Centimeters per Second has already arrived. It greatly relieved the company's cash flow pressure. And since you said last week that AD will have a second season, and that you plan to have it follow directly after the first season in July…"
She looked at him seriously.
"As an investor, I have an obligation to remind you as early as possible to start preparing. February is almost here. If you want to make it in time, you need to have the script and storyboards ready before March at the latest."
"I understand." Sora thought for a few seconds, then nodded.
"Oh, right." Yumi's eyes shifted slightly, and she smiled again. "The person in charge of film distribution at my family's company asked me to ask whether you're interested in producing another animated feature film. As for distribution fees, revenue split, and everything else, all of it is negotiable. They're willing to promote your work at the highest standard and do everything they can to negotiate the best possible box office share and screening schedule with the theater chains."
5 Centimeters per Second had ranked eighth on the previous year's annual box office chart, earning more than twenty billion yen. On top of that, its licensed merchandise was still selling extremely well. The real-world location used as reference for the film in Tokushima, especially the sloped street where Sora had personally arranged for cherry blossom trees to be transplanted free of charge, had already become a well-known pilgrimage spot among anime fans. Every day, hundreds, sometimes even thousands of people went there to take photos.
As the film's distributor, as well as one of the parties responsible for merchandise design, manufacturing, and sales channels, Qin Animation had earned an enormous profit. Even if it only took a little over ten percent of the sales share, the return was still more than enough to fill its coffers.
By now, Sora had already become a stable, high-quality, top-tier partner for Qin Animation. Naturally, they wanted to deepen the cooperation.
Yumi was the sole heir to her family's company. The money she helped her father earn would, sooner or later, belong to her as well. Of course she was enthusiastic about this kind of matter.
As for Sora, he did not have much reason to object.
The revenue share Qin Animation took in their cooperation was considered relatively low within the industry. After all, because the company's young lady was also one of Sora's investors, many favorable conditions had been offered voluntarily from their side. If he changed distribution partners, there was a high chance he would not receive terms as good as Qin Animation's.
"A new animated feature film…"
Sora murmured under his breath.
Sumire and Yumi looked at him at the same time.
It was not that Sora lacked the money to produce such a work now. The problem was that his emotional points were stretched thin.
After gathering enough next month to exchange for the second season of AD, his reserves would basically return to zero. If he wanted to exchange for a new work after that, he would have to rely on the emotional value generated by the latter half of AD, Steins;Gate, and Liar Game.
"I'll think about it," Sora said.
Think about it.
Sumire and Yumi immediately understood.
When Sora said he would think about something, it meant he already had an idea.
And once he had an idea, all they had to do was remember the terrifying speed with which he had produced the script for Liar Game in a single week.
The expressions on both women's faces turned subtle.
It seemed this wait would not be long.
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