"Kazama… have you completely lost your mind?"
Ishigami Rina stared at him in disbelief.
She had genuinely thought he'd finally learned his lesson. Instead, this man was still insisting on going against the market—head-on.
She had already explained it clearly. Today's romance market followed two simple rules:
Good-looking characters.
Fast gratification.
That was it.
Even the New Generation Original Works Award—despite its lofty name—was ultimately just a test of who could package those two elements most convincingly.
Ishigami Rina had seen past winners. Every single one fit that mold perfectly.
And now Kazama Yuu wanted to inject tragedy into it?
It was absurd.
If he had stopped at meeting and falling in love, she would have been relieved moved, even. That would've meant he finally understood the times.
But "parting"?
That single word destroyed everything.
"No," she said firmly. "This time, you listen to me. If you won't, I'll have Teacher Suzuki guide you instead."
Her gaze hardened.
This was his last chance. If she let him run free again—just like before—he would fail. That wasn't pessimism.
That was experience.
And as much as Kazama Yuu exhausted her, she didn't want to see him humiliated by that bald editor again.
"Editor Ishigami," Kazama said suddenly, standing straighter.
"This is my once-in-a-lifetime request."
She froze.
"If I don't draw this manga… I'll regret it for the rest of my life."
For a moment, the room felt heavier.
It was ridiculous. It was just manga. And yet, the way he said it made it feel like a confession.
Ishigami Rina hesitated.
Should she force him back onto the 'right' path?
Or let him draw what he truly wanted?
"…Fine," she said at last, lowering her gaze.
"Do whatever you want. I won't be your editor after this anyway, so I won't interfere."
She picked up her chopsticks again, but her appetite was clearly gone.
She was angry.
Not because he disagreed with her—but because he never listened. She was his editor. His responsibility. His classmate who knew his worst moments.
And yet, he always walked his own road.
It was exhausting.
"I'm done eating."
She finished quickly, wiped her mouth, washed her dishes, and grabbed her bag—ready to leave.
Even Kazama Yuu, dense as he was, could tell.
She was furious.
"Editor Ishigami," he said seriously.
"Trust me. This won't be our last collaboration. I'll prove it to you."
She paused at the door.
After a brief silence, she nodded faintly.
"I'll come back tomorrow," she said.
"When I do, show me your resolve. At least make me believe you're not just fooling around."
With that, she straightened her expression and left.
"Goodbye."
The door closed.
Kazama Yuu exhaled deeply.
He'd honestly been afraid she might kick him on the way out.
…Still, she really was a good person.
He laid out his manga manuscript paper across the desk. He'd promised results—now he had to deliver.
5 Centimeters per Second had four versions: anime, novel, manga, and side stories—each with strengths and flaws.
The anime's visuals were breathtaking, but the narrative felt loose, like watching beautiful scenery drift by.
The novel captured inner emotions brilliantly, but lacked visual impact.
The manga added detail, yet its pacing dragged, and the art couldn't match the anime.
Kazama didn't plan to copy any single version.
He would rebuild it—combining their strengths.
A massive task.
The original manga alone exceeded 230 pages.
At his current pace—two pages a day—that would take over 110 days. And that didn't even include his own revisions.
Fortunately, this year's New Generation Original Works Award used a serialized elimination format.
Works would be published in a special issue of Weekly Shōnen Sunday, with rankings decided by reader votes. The lowest performers would be eliminated each round, while higher-ranked works received more pages.
The first issue alone required at least ninety pages.
Miss once, and it was over.
And before any of that, the editorial department would filter out substandard submissions without mercy.
Time was his enemy.
"System," Kazama said quietly. "Open the Exchange Mall."
The interface appeared.
Most items were absurdly expensive—but one caught his eye.
[Beginner Energy Potion]
Cost: 100 Popularity Points
Effect: Removes all physical fatigue, boosts creation speed for 15 hours
First-use bonus: Double effect
Weekly limit: 1/10
He could only afford one.
"Exchange."
The potion appeared in his hand—a purple liquid that looked suspiciously like grape juice.
He drank it.
Sweet.
Then—
Energy surged through his body. Every trace of exhaustion vanished.
"…So this is system-quality stuff," Kazama muttered.
He picked up his pen.
And began to draw.