"I'm in."
Ryuko didn't hesitate for a second.
Haruki had barely finished explaining before she agreed, her voice steady and confident. He hadn't expected a yes so quickly
The call volume wasn't low, and Kazuya overheard the whole exchange.
From the way the conversation went, he was giving Haruki a very different kind of look.
Haruki ignored him.
"But," he added after a pause, "this is just an invitation. Whether you get the role depends on the audition. If you're really interested, we can schedule an interview—"
"Of course. That's a given," Ryuko said. "When and where?"
Haruki blinked.
He hadn't thought that far ahead.
But since he was one of the producers, it wasn't a problem to decide on the spot.
"You free right now?" he asked instinctively—then immediately regretted it. "Actually, if you've got work or classes, we can do Saturday or Sunday."
"No need. Just send me the address I'm coming now," Ryuko replied, cheerful and decisive.
Haruki hung up the phone a few minutes later, still a bit stunned.
That went way too smoothly.
Not even three minutes, and she was on her way.
"Man," Kazuya said, slapping Haruki's shoulder with a smirk, "now I get it. No wonder Ryuko was the first person who came to mind."
"I don't remember the two of you being this close during Anohana. So what's the story? What happened between then and now?"
Haruki rolled his eyes. "You're overthinking it."
"We're just gaming friends. Why is it that any time a guy and a girl get along even a little, people start jumping to romantic conclusions? Can't guys and girls just be friends?"
Kazuya chuckled. "Look, I've known you long enough. If it's not manga or anime, nothing grabs your interest. So if you say she's just a friend—I believe you."
"But Ryuko? She clearly doesn't see you as just some 'just a friend' . she came over without even asking about pay, the script, or the role."
"She doesn't even know if these projects will succeed. That's not nothing."
"I don't think I'm being paranoid you're just dense."
Haruki stayed quiet, brushing it off.
Ten minutes later, Ryuko called. Haruki went downstairs to meet her and led her into the animation studio.
Her eyes lit up the moment they stepped inside.
The room buzzed with quiet intensity. Everyone was focused—inking frames, coloring scenes, editing cuts. It wasn't fancy, but the energy was real. You could feel how hard everyone was working.
"This is where 5 cm and Voice are being made?" she asked.
"Most of it, yeah," Haruki replied. "Some post-production stuff happens off-site—equipment we don't have gets rented or borrowed thanks to Kazuya's contacts."
"But this place is awesome," she said, glancing around.
A few staff members noticed her, then exchanged knowing glances. The same kind of look Kazuya had given Haruki earlier.
The kind of look that said: Here comes the boss, bringing in a girl to tour the studio.
Haruki ignored them.
"We use the upstairs floor as a break area," he added casually. "Anyway, if you join us, you'll be here a lot, so I figured I'd show you around."
Ryuko grinned. "I can't believe people have been gossiping online for months about where these projects are being made and it turns out this place is just a few blocks from our campus."
"Not even a kilometer," she added. "If I'd known earlier, I would've snuck in for a peek."
Just then, Kazuya stepped out of his tiny office.
"Nice to meet you," Ryuko said with a quick bow. "Producer Mori."
"Hey, hey, no need for formalities," Kazuya laughed. "I'm just the sidekick around here. Haruki's the real boss."
"Alright," he clapped his hands. "Let's not waste time. Haruki, Ryuko—come in. Let's talk through the details."
An hour later, Ryuko put down the scripts for 5 cm and Voices.
Her eyes were slightly red.
She looked at Haruki only this time, her gaze held something new. Something quieter. A little uncertain.
In both scripts, there were only a handful of central characters.
Mikako and Noboru in Voices of a Distant Star.
Takaki and Akari in 5 Centimeters per Second.
And Sumita, who carried a quiet heartbreak from beginning to end.
Not one of the stories had a "perfect" romantic ending.
Especially Sumita. Quiet, loyal, selfless. She knew Takaki's heart belonged elsewhere, yet never stopped caring.
Something about her hit Ryuko hard.
Maybe it was the way that character clung to love, even when it hurt. Maybe it was the realism—there were no easy resolutions, no dramatic twists to fix everything.
Just life moving forward, without closure.
She looked at Haruki again. The guy who wrote all this. And she suddenly thought—
He must've gone through something.
Maybe he'd been in love once. Maybe it ended badly. Maybe that's why every romance in his stories was tinged with longing and silence and loss.
rurouni kenshin. Garden of Words. Anohana. 5 cm. Voice.
Different settings. Same ache.
Even Initial D, despite being a racing series, hinted at Takumi's inner turmoil his quiet emotional distance.
Haruki... Did someone break your heart?
She felt… oddly sorry for him.
Haruki caught the look on her face and frowned.
It was the kind of look you give a sick puppy. Or worse a pig about to be butchered.
"I'm not dying," he muttered. "Stop looking at me like that."
Ryuko blinked, snapped out of it. "Sorry."
Haruki coughed. "Anyway, now that you've read both scripts... what do you think?"
Shout out to Vincent Emil for joining my p-atreon! your support means everything to me.
(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 60+ advanced chapters)