Alioth
patreon
I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 95
🕑 Added 2025-05-02 18:09:05 +0000 UTCAfter a brief moment of silence, Kazuya let out a resigned sigh.
"Alright, fifteen million yen," he said at last.
There was no other option—he had to concede.
Haruka gave a small nod, clearly satisfied.
Then she turned to Haruki, prompting him with a glance.
"Uh, sure, no problem!" Haruki replied, clearly caught off guard.
With just a few words, the price had jumped by more than five million yen. It now exceeded everything Haruki had earned from serializing Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance in sora.
If Haruka hadn’t stepped in, Haruki would’ve tried to negotiate—maybe get an extra two million at best. And honestly, he would've been fine with that.
After all, it was just an anime adaptation, right? Haruki already felt satisfied.
In the manga industry, direct income from anime adaptations wasn’t massive. The real value came from the boost in manga sales. That’s where most of the revenue came from.
But it always came down to the same question: what comes first—the popularity, or the anime?
Right now, Haruki knew there was no way Anohana could get serialized in a major magazine like Shroud Line.
Maybe it could run in a smaller publication and gain some traction, but getting enough exposure to justify an anime? That was a long shot.
So this was the best route—secure the anime now. If it gained momentum, he could always publish the manga version later, even as a collected volume or special release.
As for the animation rights—Haruki wasn’t aiming high.
As long as the terms were fair, he was happy.
"I’m good with the price your studio offered," Haruki said seriously.
What had started as a simple side project—Anohana’s adaptation—was now officially in motion, agreed upon in a modest office by three people who didn’t need endless meetings to make a decision.
Once the contract was printed, Haruki reviewed it and signed on the spot.
With that, Anohana’s anime adaptation was officially underway, with the first episode scheduled for February—Haruki’s first anime project.
“Congratulations, host! You’ve successfully greenlit Anohana’s anime adaptation. Special reward: the original ED ‘Secret Base (Kimi ga Kureta Mono)’ and unlocked access to watch the original anime in the system!”
"...What?"
Haruki blinked in surprise as the system's voice echoed in his mind.
A sudden rush of information hit him.
He staggered for a moment but quickly pieced it together: Anohana had already been animated on Earth.
Because he was adapting it here, the system had triggered a hidden achievement—unlocking access to the original anime to help it succeed in this world.
The brief moment of shock passed unnoticed by Kazuya and Haruka.
Haruki quickly recovered, and neither of them seemed to sense anything off.
"Well, now that the contract's signed, we’re officially partnered with Kazanami Animation Studio."
"But—there’s one thing I’d like to bring up, Producer Mori."
"A suggestion?" Kazuya blinked.
Haruka also turned to him.
"I have a friend—very talented with music," Haruki began.
"He has a song that would be perfect for Anohana’s ending theme. I’d like to recommend it."
Thanks to the system’s info, Haruki now understood just how much “Secret Base” had contributed to Anohana’s impact. It wasn’t just a good ending—it was iconic.
There was no way he could let that opportunity go to waste.
"A friend?" Kazuya raised an eyebrow. "You're not talking about yourself, are you?"
Haruki coughed. “Of course not.”
"Hah, alright then," Kazuya chuckled. "Send it to me on Line. The score or the track—either's fine. I can’t guarantee it’ll be selected, but we do evaluate every submission fairly."
"Got it," Haruki replied, confident it would work out.
After all, how many truly perfect EDs could a studio find in just four months?
Their meeting, despite covering a lot, had wrapped up quickly.
After a few more exchanges, Kazuya saw them out of the office.
Even Haruki, used to dealing with large sums, felt a bit dizzy.
Over a 15 million yen in a single day.
The money wasn’t in his account yet, but once things were finalized, the transfer would be automatic.
"That’s a wrap," Haruka said as she started the car.
"Anohana’s main hurdles are out of the way. From now on, your focus should be on Natsume’s Book of Friends."
"Sure, the deadline for episode four is still three weeks off—but it’s best to stay ahead. Running out of ideas isn’t something you want to risk."
"Inspiration running dry?" Haruka asked, glancing at him.
"Relax. I’ve already drafted ten episodes worth of plot."
"No chance I’m burning out."
"Ten episodes?" Haruka frowned.
"Natsume’s Book of Friends is being serialized in Shroud Line. Shouldn’t you focus on polishing the plot before jumping that far ahead?"
Haruki immediately understood her concern—she was worried he might be rushing things and compromising quality.
"No need to worry. I finished the entire Anohana draft in just two weeks."
"The quality's solid. If you’re unsure, come by and check them yourself."
"Alright then." Haruka nodded. "I was heading to your place anyway, so let’s go over them there."
----
At Haruki’s House
Haruka flipped through the draft for Natsume’s Book of Friends, her expression unreadable.
She finished, closed the pages slowly, and said nothing.
Not a single critique.
Two weeks ago, Haruki had cranked out Anohana’s script. Now, ten chapters of a completely different series—each one carefully plotted, deeply moving, and flawlessly structured.
Was this even human?
She remembered Sora’s words about Haruki:
“The kind of person who treats writing plots like making tea.”
“Never seen him run out of inspiration.”
She wasn’t wrong.
By contrast, Haruka thought of another artist she managed—someone who struggled to finish even one chapter a week. Forget ten. Sometimes, she couldn’t even figure out a transition scene without stalling for days.
She suddenly felt the quiet sting of her own limitations as an editor.
Working with Haruki required no reminders, no pressure, no coaxing. Just pick up the drafts and go.
It was... humbling.
Shaking the thought away, Haruka finally spoke.
"It’s great. Let’s go with these drafts."
"We’ll see how the readers respond after the first two episodes are out."
"This kind of story is a bit different from what’s trending right now. We can adjust the direction later if needed."
Haruki nodded. He wasn’t worried.
Natsume’s Book of Friends might not be a blockbuster, but it wasn’t going to flop either. Haruka’s point was fair—don’t get complacent.
The manga world was harsh. Miss one shot, and there might not be another.
Plenty of artists had seen their series cut from Shroud Line. Most never got a second chance.
Comments
Hersh Jobanputra
Rurouni Kenshin: Remembrance in Shroud Line — I forgot the name but I dont thnk it was shroud. “Never seen him run out of inspiration.” He wasn’t wrong. — This part is She wasn’t wrong.
