Akira Fujimiya lightly pushed open the office door and stepped inside.
Haruto Niino, who had been reading through a pile of documents, immediately brightened when he saw who it was.
"Director Niino, since the president has changed, the original animation plan can finally move forward," Akira said as he glanced at the stack of papers. "Your script should be ready by now, right?"
"Yes," Niino nodded, picking up a file from the desk. "This is the original manuscript of my late wife's novel. I'm not sure how to adapt it properly, so I wanted to ask for your and Director Tamura's help."
He handed the file carefully to Akira.
"I've always liked stories that surprise me," Akira said with a small smile as he took the document and sat down on the nearby sofa.
"I'll pour you some tea," Niino said nervously, pouring a cup of steaming green tea and setting it in front of him before sitting opposite.
Akira gave the cup a glance, then opened the manuscript that had so clearly been written with love and emotion.
The story followed a quiet, gentle romance between two childhood friends — a high school boy and girl who had grown up next door to each other.
The protagonist was an ordinary girl, quiet and thoughtful. Her childhood friend, Haru, was reserved but intelligent — someone she had admired since they were small.
She couldn't remember when her feelings for him had started, only that she always found her glaze following him.
Haru's family ran a carpentry business, passed down from his father. But after his father injured his hand, Haru had to take on much of the work himself. Though he didn't reject it, because he truly loved was wood carving — a secret passion that only she knew.
Their houses stood side by side, and they had been close since childhood, never quarreling even once. They were inseparable — best friends who understood each other's silences.
When Haru carved, she would quietly sit nearby, watching him work with calm focus.
He wasn't athletic, and neither was she. Instead, she loved books — and when they were together, one carved wood while the other read quietly, occasionally stealing a glance at the person she loved.
Their relationship began to shift one night when she invited him to go stargazing.
But they got lost in the forest.
She grew frightened until Haru took her trembling hand and said, "Don't let go."
Guided by the moonlight, they eventually found their way out. The moment they emerged, she hugged him in relief.
He stiffened in surprise — his first time being that close to a girl.
When she got home, her heart wouldn't stop pounding. She recorded every moment in her diary — his warmth, his awkwardness, her happiness.
From then on, something between them began to change.
She became more conscious of her appearance, dressing carefully whenever she met him.
Then came the summer fireworks festival.
She decided she would finally confess her feelings there.
But they underestimated the crowd and got separated. With no phones, they could only wander through the busy streets calling out for each other.
Her weak health caught up with her, and she collapsed on the roadside, unable to walk further.
Luckily, a kind passerby informed Haru where she was.
When he arrived, he found her sitting on the curb, hugging her knees and crying softly.
Without a word, he crouched down and offered her the takoyaki he had bought.
She looked up at him, eyes wet with tears — and just like that, her crying stopped.
They sat together eating, watching the crowd pass by.
When she gathered the courage to confess, the sound of fireworks exploded overhead.
She turned, watching the sky reflected in his calm eyes — and the words froze in her throat.
Then, suddenly, Haru reached out and took her hand.
"I… can we be together?"
She froze, stunned by his clumsy but sincere confession. His face was red, his eyes uncertain yet full of hope.
She nodded shyly.
After the fireworks, he carried her on his back all the way home.
Before she went inside, he handed her something — a small wooden carving.
It was her.
When she realized it, tears welled in her eyes.
He admitted that he had been watching her, too — but he hadn't confessed because the carving wasn't finished yet.
"Haru~ You idiot" she said, laughing through her tears, before hugging him tightly.
From that moment, they became a couple.
The girl grew bolder, often teasing him until his face turned red.
Years later, they were admitted to the same university, married in a small church, and lived happily ever after.
When Akira finished reading, his first thought was simple:
It was too sweet. Painfully sweet — in the best way possible.
Even through the heroine's eyes, the story overflowed with warmth and quiet happiness.
He looked up at Haruto Niino, who was watching him nervously.
"Director Niino," Akira asked, "is this story true?"
"It's mostly true," Niino admitted, a small smile forming. "But I feel the story progresses too smoothly. Maybe we should add a few twists or extra characters?"
Right now, the man before him looked less like a renowned animation director and more like an earnest writer trying to perfect a love story.
To Niino, this novel was a gentle reflection of his and his wife's past.
He was right — if a story flowed too easily, without ups or downs, it could lose dramatic tension.
But Akira understood something Niino couldn't see from inside his own memory: this wasn't an ordinary romance.
It was pure nostalgia — something like Karakai Jouzu no Takagi-san (Teasing Master Takagi-san), the kind of sweetness you couldn't replicate with added conflict.
To change it would ruin its charm.
Moreover, this was his wife's last work.
Even if Niino wanted to adjust it for the sake of storytelling, Akira could tell — deep down, he didn't truly want to change a single word.
Akira smiled and set the script down.
"Director Niino," he said calmly, "I'm very satisfied with this story. I only have one request."
Niino tensed. "What is it?"
"No one is allowed to alter this story," Akira said firmly. "You and Director Tamura will handle supervision. The first and second studios will co-produce the animation."
"Fujimiya-kun…" Niino murmured.
"If possible," Akira continued, "I want this to released the same month as Puella Magi Madoka Magica. Let it mark the start of a new era for the Studio — the era of original animation."
Niino rose to his feet and bowed deeply. "Thank you, Fujimiya-kun."
.....
Half an hour later,
In the main conference room of Flash Animation, the senior staff of the first and second production divisions were gathered.
The new president, Sata kana, sat at the head of the table. Akira sat beside her.
The third division had not been called for this meeting.
Kana stood up and addressed the room.
"At present, all of Falsh Animation's shares are under the Yukinoshita family. According to Miss Yukinoshita's instructions, I will serve as president. In the future, all shares will be transferred to Miss Yukinoshita's younger sister. The person beside me, Akira Fujimiya, is her appointed representative — and, most likely, the future owner of this studio."
The announcement sent murmurs through the room.
Many had not heard this news until now.
After Kana sat, Akira rose to speak.
"Flash Animation Studio," he began, "was once among the best animation studios in Japan. But in recent years, it's declined."
He paused, letting the silence hang.
"I don't deny anyone's talent here. But adapting other people's works endlessly wastes the potential of true animators. Many who left did so not for money — but because they couldn't make the animation they dreamed of."
He looked across the room — at Niino, at Tamura, at the silent staff who had once chased those same dreams.
"Since I came here and reviewed your past projects," Akira continued, "I noticed one thing: almost no original works. Why?"
He didn't need an answer.
Because everyone already knew.
Then he said the words they'd been waiting for:
"Today, I want to talk about the future — the Original Animation Project of Flash Animation."
A low murmur rippled through the room.
"This is a long-term initiative," Akira explained. "Every creator here can submit their own original animation proposal. Each submission will be reviewed by myself and two supervising directors. If approved, I will personally invest 100 million yen, and Flash Animation will cover the rest."
He continued, his voice firm but full of energy.
"The project will begin next year. Across the four anime seasons, we will produce at least six original works. Whether you're a screenwriter or animator, you can submit up to five ideas per year. There's no limit on story length."
He gestured toward the table as the staff received printed copies of a script.
"This year's first original work," Akira said, "will be directed by Haruto Niino — adapted from a novel written by his late wife."
Niino stood, bowing slightly.
"This story is my wife's wise," he said quietly. "I want to bring it to life. Please, help me make it real."
The room fell silent. Even the most hardened animators were moved.
Nanako Tamura, who had already known about the manuscript, felt tears prick at her eyes.
Akira looked around and nodded.
"This production will be handled jointly by the first and second studios. Directors Niino and Tamura will lead, and I'll assist as deputy director. It will released alongside Madoka Magica — a gift for our audience, and a symbol of rebirth for Flash Animation"
He took a breath, his eyes steady.
"With these two works, we'll show the industry that a new era has begun — one where original animation thrives again, and animators' dreams are not just remembered but realized."
Around the table, the staff sat in awed silence — until slowly, one by one, they began to smile.
For the first time in years, they felt that same fire they'd once had when they joined the company — that belief that anime could be art, not just business.
Sata Kana stood once more.
"According to Miss Yukinoshita's instructions," she said clearly, "Flash Animation will invest at least five billion yen into the Original Animation Project. All profits from these works will be reinvested into new productions — to ensure the dream of original animation never dies."
Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap! Clap!
The room erupted in applause.
And in that moment, everyone there knew — the golden age of Falsh Animation was about to begin again.
...
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