Kamiyā Yuu pushed open the iron door of the fifth-floor key animation department. What came into view was a large, chaotic office. At first glance, it felt more like a storage room for documents than a workplace. Thick stacks of key animation sheets filled the entire room—even papers scattered across the floor were left untouched. Despite the office being fairly spacious and well-lit, the clutter created an almost suffocating sense of narrowness.
Stepping over discarded drafts on the floor, Kamiyā Yuu walked deeper into the office along the aisle. Along the way, aside from the drawing desks of key animators with vastly different styles and setups, he also witnessed a scene rarely seen in his previous world—animators placing pillows under their desks and sleeping beneath them. Even as he passed by, his footsteps failed to disturb them in the slightest.
This was what it meant to be corporate livestock—sleeping time existed only within the company.
Kamiyā Yuu shook his head, lightening his steps as he carefully stepped over a leg sticking out from under a desk, heading straight to the end of the aisle. At the very end, a worn wooden door stood slightly ajar.
Knock, knock…
"Come in."
A voice that was calm, gentle, and clear came from inside the private office. Unlike Kamiyā Sora's crisp and cool tone—if her voice was like melting snow flowing down a mountain in spring, then this voice was like a still lake. Every word carried an unquestionable sense of composure.
"Excuse me."
Kamiyā Yuu pushed open the wooden door and immediately saw the key animation supervisor of the department—his direct superior, Uehara Etsuki.
She wore an elegant black kimono, with only the sleeves and wide obi adorned with intricate butterfly and fireworks patterns. The fitted design accentuated the curves of her figure while adding a refined, classical charm.
To be honest, kimono had never left a particularly good impression on Kamiyā Yuu. This traditional Japanese attire often felt overly elaborate and cumbersome. On most women, it made them appear bulky, and the colorful patterns only added to a sense of visual clutter rather than elegance.
But if ordinary women wearing kimono resembled thick tree trunks, then Uehara Etsuki was like a plum blossom tree in winter—slender, graceful, and refined. Covered in snow, she stood apart with an elegant fragrance and transcendent beauty.
She was the first Japanese woman to completely overturn Kamiyā Yuu's impression of the kimono. In fact, he found it hard to imagine her wearing anything else—only a kimono could fully bring out her quiet, classical elegance.
Dignified yet delicate, serene yet refined—beautiful on the outside and cultivated within. Stripped of all the excess and flaws of traditional aesthetics, what remained was distilled into a painting-like figure. That was Uehara Etsuki.
She was beautiful—no matter how closely one looked, not a single flaw could be found. Her long, straight black hair was styled in a traditional noble hairstyle—the hime cut—smooth and lustrous like ink brushed with water.
She was exquisite, embodying a distinctly classical Japanese elegance. That was Kamiyā Yuu's first impression of Uehara Etsuki.
Seated upright in her office, Uehara Etsuki held a Japanese teacup in her slender hands and took a light sip. Noticing Kamiyā Yuu's arrival, a faint trace of relief appeared in her calm, unfathomable black eyes.
"Kamiyā-kun, how is your health?"
"Good morning, Uehara-senpai." Kamiyā Yuu stepped forward and greeted her with a smile. "It was just a mild fever—not a big deal for someone my age."
It was worth mentioning that Uehara Etsuki's age was one of the three great mysteries of Kyoni Animation. Her appearance—no older than twenty—had remained unchanged for over ten years. Aside from a few veteran employees, no one knew her true age—not even Kamiyā Yuu.
As for how he knew this? There was a group photo from ten years ago hanging in the office, and Uehara Etsuki in that photo looked the same as she does now.
Uehara Etsuki calmly observed him before saying, "That's good. I'm glad you've returned to work, but be careful not to overstrain yourself."
"Everyone else is working so hard. If I slack off, I'll be left far behind." Kamiyā Yuu replied modestly. The ingrained respect from his past made him instinctively adopt a polite attitude. Uehara Etsuki was one of the pillars of Kyoni Animation. Her deep foundation in key animation and her unique stylistic techniques had made her one of the most renowned masters in the Gothic genre.
Yes—this woman, who embodied traditional Japanese elegance, was best known for depicting Western Gothic styles. Whether it was architecture, ornate Gothic dresses, or Baroque-style clothing, everything came to life under her brush.
Kyoni Animation, which should have gone bankrupt five years ago, had managed to survive thanks to a Gothic-style work she led—' The Garden Where Violets Bloom'. That work was also one of the few pure romance masterpieces in this world's anime industry.
However, she hadn't worked on Gothic-style animation projects for several years now. As Kyoni Animation declined, it struggled to secure high-quality projects. This children's anime, Mr. Onigiri Man, was already one of the most popular works they had received in recent years.
Uehara Etsuki smiled faintly without speaking. She rolled up her sleeve, took out a small stack of pale yellow key animation sheets from a cabinet, and handed them to Kamiyā Yuu with both hands.
"These are the correction drafts that haven't been processed yet. The areas that need attention have already been marked."
Kamiyā Yuu accepted the drafts with both hands. After flipping through a few pages, he couldn't help but look up in surprise.
"Uehara-senpai, these are all corrections for Episode 8 of 'Mr. Onigiri Man'? I remember Episode 8 was supposed to be finished last week."
Uehara Etsuki took another calm sip of tea. "The director wasn't very satisfied with cuts 346 to 480 of Episode 8, so he plans to redo that portion."
In animation terminology, a "cut" referred to a scene. Typically, each episode had around 300 cuts, with each cut containing about five storyboard panels. A key animator's pay was calculated based on the number of cuts completed, usually ranging from 1,000 to 3,000 yen per cut, depending on skill, reputation, complexity, and whether the work exceeded standard limits.
"Didn't you try to stop the director, Uehara-senpai? The schedule is already so tight. If this keeps dragging on, we might not even finish the final episode on time." Kamiyā Yuu sighed helplessly.
Uehara Etsuki glanced at him calmly. "Even Mr. Yamaguchi couldn't change the director's mind. My persuasion wouldn't have much effect either." The Mr. Yamaguchi she referred to was the producer of the animation, who theoretically held more authority than the director.
"If you clearly opposed it, the director probably wouldn't insist. It's precisely because you're here that he has the confidence to believe the key animation can still be completed on schedule." Kamiyā Yuu complained.
"Hehe." Uehara Etsuki covered her lips with her sleeve as she chuckled softly. "That may be true. But isn't that interesting?"
"You support the director's revisions?" Kamiyā Yuu asked hesitantly.
Tilting her head slightly, Uehara Etsuki looked at him, her pale pink lips curving into a faint smile. "After falling ill, you've changed quite a bit, Kamiyā-kun. The director's suggestion isn't bad. That level of compromise would significantly improve the overall quality of the animation."
—Is it that my changes are too obvious, or that your perception is just that sharp?
Kamiyā Yuu paused for a moment, then let out a long breath. Raising the corrected drafts in his hand, he smiled. "They say a serious illness brings change. Since you support the director's decision, I have no complaints. That said, this workload is really something… I won't disturb you any longer."
"Wait." Uehara Etsuki called out to him. "Kamiyā-kun, please extend your right hand."
Kamiyā Yuu turned back, puzzled, and held out his right hand. He watched as she rolled up her sleeve, opened a drawer, and placed a lollipop into his palm.
"A gift."
Kamiyā Yuu chuckled inwardly. He remembered that Uehara Etsuki had a habit of giving people lollipops—whether as encouragement or reward. He had already received several before, though he hadn't had the heart to eat them, instead keeping them in a small treasure box at home. As for Uehara Etsuki herself, he had never seen her eat one—and couldn't quite imagine it either.
"This one's strawberry milk flavor. Thank you, Uehara-senpai." Kamiyā Yuu smiled as he left the office. After unwrapping it, he popped the lollipop into his mouth, reviewing the correction drafts as he walked.
"Work… work. Hopefully, I can finish one-third by six tonight. Then the rest should be done within the deadline."