This was Kiryu Nanaya's first time entering the office of a company president. He wasn't sure if other presidents' offices looked like this, but one thing was certain: from a visual perspective, this office was excessively large.
Because the blinds behind the desk were drawn, the room was bathed in a dim light, which made the already enormous office feel even more spacious.
Nanaya also noticed a faint, special incense burning in the room. Its scent was subtle, but somehow it invigorated the mind.
"No wonder he's a wealthy man … This feels a little extravagant… Actually, it's more than a little—it's downright luxurious! And here I am, thinking about the doghouse I rent… Ugh, I can't help but feel envious…"
On the left side of the room, Nanaya spotted a cabinet filled with trophies. They were too far away for him to read the nameplates, but as an insider in the industry, he could immediately recognize that these were various film awards just by their shapes.
And they weren't just domestic Japanese awards. There were trophies from Europe's "big three" film festivals, awards from across Asia, and even two Oscars.
Nanaya could bet that if he tried to find another office in Japan with as many film trophies or even as many he wouldn't find one.
But seeing such a display wasn't surprising. After all, this office belonged to the chairman of Japan's largest film company, Rinpo Corporation. It would actually be odd if such a showcase didn't exist.
The elderly man sitting in front of Nanaya was none other than Ryutani Nariaki, the chairman of Rinpo Corporation, often called the "Emperor of Japanese Cinema" by outsiders.
Yet what intrigued Nanaya even more was the cabinet on the right. It contained a bewildering collection of toys: dolls popular with young girls, model cars that boys tended to like most of them heavily armored tanks for some reason famous tabletop card games from Japan and abroad, and various video game consoles.
Unlike the neatly arranged trophies, the items in this cabinet were clearly moved around often; they weren't mere decorations but regularly used.
"Could it be that this old man is a die-hard gamer and model enthusiast? That can't be possible…"
Nanaya's gaze returned to the president seated behind the desk. He had met him briefly before, and the combination of the man's solemn, elder-like face and meticulous attire felt completely at odds with the playful, chaotic assortment in the cabinet. It was like asking Mario the plumber to skip mushrooms and instead make Krabby Patties with SpongeBob a bizarrely mismatched scene.
After sizing Nanaya up for a moment, the stern old man finally offered a somewhat friendly smile.
"Kiryu Nanaya, right?"
"Y-Yes!"
Though the man smiled, his long years in a high position exuded an aura of authority that made Nanaya feel instantly pressured. As the one being scrutinized, all he could do was offer a polite, awkward smile. He felt like a gazelle caught in a lion's gaze.
"No need to be so nervous. I've been friends with your teacher, Hanai Ryuichi, for a long time. You can just call me Uncle Nariaki."
"Okay… Mr. Nariaki."
Nanaya decided not to take the offer seriously. The gap between them was simply too large. If the man was only being polite and Nanaya took it literally, he could easily offend him and then forget about surviving in this industry.
In fact, Nanaya still had some doubts about whether his teacher and the chairman were truly friends. After all, his teacher was just a small-time director how could he possibly have a connection with one of the most powerful figures in Japanese cinema?
"It probably isn't just because they both have 'Ryu' in their names, right?"
If it weren't for the respect he held for his teacher, Nanaya thought he might have already started imagining some sort of shady deal behind their connection.
"Alright then." Seeing Nanaya's response, Chairman Ryutani didn't press further. He simply extended his hand. "Where's your script?"
"Here."
Nanaya quickly opened his bag and handed over the script he had prepared.
"I've visited quite a few film companies over the past month or so."
"I've heard about that," Ryutani Nariaki said, without specifying who had mentioned it. Nanaya guessed it must have been his teacher.
Opening the script, Ryutani's eyes lingered for a moment on the illustration of Shiki Ryogi on the title page before moving on to read the main text.
As he skimmed through it, Ryutani spoke to Nanaya: "Actually, this is fairly well-known in our little circle the poor apprentice Hanai dragged out of the mountains, thinking he could direct a movie on his own."
Nanaya's brow twitched slightly at the comment, but he quickly restored his calm, neutral expression.
Ryutani didn't continue talking, focusing his full attention on the script. Nanaya felt a small surge of happiness this was the first time someone had read his script so seriously. Coupled with Ryutani's intimidating status, Nanaya couldn't help feeling a bit excited inside.
At the same time, he was reminded once again of the harsh realities of the film industry. without connections or sufficient capital, no matter how impressive your resume is, as a newcomer you're nothing more than a weed by the roadside.
The industry prefers to bet on mediocre films starring trending actors rather than giving a chance to unproven newcomers. That was simply the way things worked.
Ryutani didn't take long to finish reading the script. In less than twenty minutes, he had gone through the entire manuscript. Setting the white booklet down, he rested his chin on his hands and asked Nanaya, "Do you have anything else I can see?"
"Of course!"
Nanaya hurriedly took out a test footage DVD he had prepared specifically for this script. Nariaki took the disc, inserted it into his computer, and after a brief loading period, opened the single video file.
The footage was short. It showed a girl in a kimono standing on a skyscraper rooftop late at night. As the camera shifted to a close-up of her face, cherry blossom petals drifted across the sky. Soft, gentle music played in the background, and combined with the girl's solitary figure, the scene radiated a poignant, bittersweet beauty.
Suddenly, the music shifted dramatically, becoming tense and urgent. The girl opened her eyes, which flashed with a striking intensity, before drawing a short dagger and leaping into action…
The video ended abruptly there.
Although the footage was brief and the scene simple, Ryutani watched carefully, refusing to miss a single detail. The girl's face was never fully revealed, but through clever camera work, he could sense a special aesthetic. When combined with the protagonist's unusual abilities described in the script…
"Nanaya, come sit."
Ryutani gestured to the chair across from his desk. This was the first time he had invited Nanaya to sit since entering the office.
"The shots are beautiful, and the editing has a certain charm. A bit raw, perhaps, but still noteworthy," he said, nodding in approval.
"Mr. Nariaki, I…"
Nanaya's heart raced. This was the first time someone other than his teacher or close friends had praised his work. His previous experiences with film companies had been discouraging; when they saw a young newcomer wanting to direct a movie on his own, not a single one had bothered to watch his footage they had simply rejected him outright.
But Nariaki didn't let Nanaya celebrate just yet. He first raised a hand to stop him from speaking further, then, in a businesslike tone, said:
"Your script isn't extraordinary. There's some thought put into it, yes, but it's not rich enough. Nowadays, a good idea isn't the most important thing execution is key. Especially for a film, the director's role is critical. A skilled director can breathe life into a mediocre concept, while a poor director can ruin a brilliant one."
Nanaya tried to stay composed, but a look of disappointment slipped across his face. The rejection in those words was unmistakable.
"I've seen the budget you attached to the script. I doubt that 15 million yen will be enough to realize your vision. You're a newcomer, and there will be many unpredictable situations during production," Nariaki said, looking him straight in the eye with a serious expression.
"I…"
Nanaya wanted to argue that he could handle it, but deep down, he wasn't entirely convinced himself.
But before Nanaya could speak, Nariaki cut him off again.
"Fortunately, this film is being produced as a television movie. That gives us some room to relax the requirements. I'll consider your script. For now, go back and wait for the results."
Although the chairman hadn't given a definitive rejection, Nanaya had already lost most of his hope.
Not long after Nanaya left the office, the phone on the desk suddenly rang.
"Nariaki, it's me."
If Nanaya had still been in the office, he would have recognized the voice instantly it was his teacher, Hanai Ryuichi.
"You've met the boy?"
"Yes."
"What do you think?"
Nariaki didn't answer right away. He first took a sip of the red tea on his desk, now long gone cold, before finally speaking, slowly and gravely.
"Are you really sure about this, Ryuichi? To be blunt, this is too risky."
"I'm his teacher and I'm part of this industry. I know exactly how cruel this circle can be. If I don't help him… then no one will."
Hanai's tone was calm, but beneath the surface was a firm, unwavering resolve.
"That's exactly why, as someone in the business, I'm telling you not to let emotions cloud your judgment. You're funding the entire 15 million yen yourself. That's no small burden. And if you try to run the cost through your own production company "
Hanai immediately rejected the idea.
"That's impossible. I've already tried. The other executives refused. Otherwise the budget wouldn't be this low. Fifteen million yen is my absolute limit."
Nariaki ran a hand through his hair in resignation.
"Fine. Since you're that determined, I'll help you. In half an hour, I'll call the kid and tell him I believe in him and that I'm willing to give him this opportunity."
Hearing his old friend finally agree, Hanai let out a long breath of relief.
"Thank you. Truly."
"Then remember to buy me a drink next time."
With that, Ryutani Nariaki ended the call.
——————————————————————————————————
Meanwhile, Nanaya, having left Rinpo Corporation, didn't return to the film set where he was currently working. Instead, he found a nearby café and took a seat.
Since his teacher had given him half a day off, and it was still too early to return, Nanaya decided to use this rare bit of free time to refine his script once again. Even though today's meeting seemed to have ended in disappointment, the fact that he managed to leave a strong impression on the man known as the Emperor of Japanese Cinema meant his script definitely had merit.
"Come on, Nanaya. Maybe next time…"
He ordered an iced coffee and opened his script, beginning reread again probably the hundredth times by now.
The original 'Kara no Kyoukai'' is under an hour. Way too short for a feature film. I need to expand it to at least ninety minutes. But since the original movie didn't explore much of Type-Moon's worldbuilding, that's where I can put in the work…
Nanaya recalled the scenes from the original Kara no Kyoukai film and compared them to the words he had written.
"Hey, big brother, what are you writing?"
A playful, mischievous voice almost devilish suddenly sounded right next to Nanaya's ear.