After all, her photos were everywhere online. No matter how blind Sora Kamakawa might be to most things, there was no way he wouldn't at least recognize a beauty like her.
Natsuyuki Shirasawa was twenty-four years old this year. She had debuted as a light novel author at seventeen, and in the span of six years, she had published five light novels. Four of them had been adapted into anime, and that alone had been enough to push her all the way to the top tier of the industry in terms of popularity.
Starting the year before last, she had also begun making a name for herself as an anime screenwriter. But the work that had truly established her status in Japan's animation industry was the project she created during last year's summer season together with Touketsu, one of the most outstanding young anime directors of the new generation.
That anime was Dream of the South.
Dream of the South had won Best Anime at last year's Tokyo Animation Festival.
Its director, Touketsu, had taken home Best Director. Its composer, Ko Arasou, had won Best Anime Music. Natsuyuki herself had claimed Best Screenplay. The production had also won Best Art Direction.
It could be said that, among all the awards at last year's Tokyo Animation Festival that truly carried weight, nearly every one of them had been swept up by the staff behind Dream of the South.
And for good reason.
Out of the hundreds of anime produced and broadcast across the country last year, Dream of the South, which aired during Aobane TV's summer lineup, was the only title to break past a nationwide average rating of 5%, reaching a phenomenal 5.19%.
Its Blu-ray sales had surpassed 240,000 copies per volume. On NatsuYume, more than four million users had rated it, and its score stood at an astonishing 9.3.
Otherwise, how could The Dragon King Next Door possibly have secured over forty million yen in investment?
To a large extent, the backers had been willing to spend that much because of the strength Natsuyuki had shown in Dream of the South, as well as the immense popularity she had built within the anime world.
Unfortunately, during the preparation phase of the project, she hadn't been willing to get into a prolonged fight with Maki. As a result, she had tried to satisfy as many of his demands as possible in the script. More than twenty percent of the key story beats in the first draft had been heavily altered, and that was precisely why The Dragon King Next Door had failed to live up to expectations this season in terms of word of mouth and critical reception.
Even so, it was still an anime primarily backed by Seiun TV.
Given the reputation and ratings The Dragon King Next Door had ended up with, Seiun TV might not have had enough influence to force the series into a Best Anime nomination behind the scenes. But securing a nomination for Natsuyuki in the Best Screenplay category? That was entirely within reach.
Which meant that tonight, Natsuyuki Shirasawa was in fact one of Sora's rivals for Best Screenplay.
"Hello, Miss Natsuyuki."
After running through all that information in his mind, Sora smiled and greeted her.
"You can just call me Natsuyuki. Director Sora."
Her slender fingers lifted to brush back a strand of hair near her ear, and when she looked at him, there was a quiet, meaningful light in her gaze.
"Then you can just call me Sora too."
Sora answered without hesitation. He had never liked overly formal titles or stiff etiquette. Since she clearly didn't care for them either, he had no reason to cling to them.
"You were looking for me… for something?"
"No. I just wanted to see, face to face, the creator of Natsume Yuujinchou - the man who left me looking rather miserable this season."
That was what she said, but the tone she used sounded far more like teasing than bitterness.
Because of that, Sora didn't find it unpleasant at all. He didn't sense any real hostility in her words, nor did he feel that she held any grudge against him over it.
Things like breeding and character couldn't really be faked. Once Sora realized Natsuyuki held no obvious ill will toward him, he relaxed a little.
"And now that you've seen me, what do you think?" Sora asked with a light joke of his own.
Natsuyuki smiled faintly, showing a glimpse of white teeth.
"We've only spoken for a moment. What could I possibly tell from that?"
Then she changed the subject.
"Tonight, the two of us are rivals."
"That's right."
Sora nodded.
"And most likely, I'll lose to you in Best Screenplay."
Sora's expression turned a little strange at those words.
This woman...
What exactly had she come here for?
"There's no way to be certain about something like that before the results are announced," Sora replied with a modest smile.
"I've seen all five nominated anime," Natsuyuki said. "And to be honest, if we're speaking strictly in terms of script quality, even the original version of The Dragon King Next Door before Maki butchered it - and the other three works as well - none of them moved me the way Natsume Yuujinchou did."
She paused only briefly before continuing.
"At a festival like Tokyo's, it's normal for the nominee list to include a little padding here and there. But when it comes to the final grand prize, the committee is generally still fair enough. And in my heart, the anime script that impressed me the most this year was also Natsume Yuujinchou... No matter what the official result ends up being, to me, you're already the winner of this award."
At that point, Sora knew something was off.
His gaze remained calm as he looked at her, waiting for her to finally say what she had really come to say.
"Last year, I was the one who won this award," Natsuyuki said with a soft laugh after taking a quiet breath. "This year... I was the one who made mistakes, and that's why I couldn't take it."
There was no dramatic bitterness in her voice, only a restrained frustration buried beneath her composure.
"Next summer, Director Touketsu and I will be working together on a new anime. The project has already been approved. The early preparation is complete, and everything is in place. I have a great deal of confidence in it, and I believe that next year's Best Screenplay award will definitely be mine."
Then she looked straight at him.
"So what I want to ask is this, Sora... Will you have a new anime coming out next year?"
Sora's expression turned odd again.
He more or less understood what she meant now.
In her mind, next year's Best Screenplay award already belonged to her.
But if the man most likely to win it this year didn't show up next year to be defeated by her, she would feel unsatisfied. That was why she had come over to sound him out.
"As for a new work... there probably will be one," Sora said after a moment's thought.
Natsuyuki's pupils brightened immediately, and clear delight surfaced on her face.
"Oh? Which season?"
"If everything goes smoothly... it may very well air in July, during the summer season."
He paused before giving the answer.
If Yumi Noriko's information was accurate, and two TV stations really did approach him in January, then there was a high chance he would be able to complete a new anime and have it airing by July.
"If that happens, then that would be wonderful. Competing in the same season against someone as talented as you, Sora - that's exactly the kind of thing that pushes both sides to improve as creators."
The polite wording was flawless, but the fierce competitive spirit hidden underneath it was impossible to miss.
Sora could tell immediately that she was the type who, back in her student days, would have lain awake all night if she ever slipped up on an exam and came in second place just once.
Even so, he didn't find her irritating.
To him, this kind of determination to win was not a problem. What he disliked were people like Maki - small-minded, petty, always stirring up trouble for no reason. Those were the ones who earned his cold face without exception.
"Let's hope so. It's getting late. We should both get ready to head into the ceremony hall."
Sora gave a light cough and took the initiative to end the conversation.
"This is my business card."
Natsuyuki nodded and, still observing proper manners, offered it to him with both hands.
"This is mine."
Sora returned the gesture with one of his own.
The two of them rose to their feet. They looked at each other for a moment, both wearing calm expressions.
"Natsuyuki, what are you doing here? Hurry up... the ceremony is about to start."
At that moment, a man in his thirties approached them. He was tall, somewhat handsome, and carried a distinctly cold expression.
"Director Touketsu, I was talking to a friend," Natsuyuki replied with a smile.
"A friend? He is...?"
Touketsu turned a puzzled look toward Sora.
"Sora Kamakawa. He's also an anime director."
Sora stated his name, then, since he was already at it, handed over one of his business cards as well.
As one of the most outstanding young directors in the industry, Touketsu was naturally someone Sora knew of.
"There's no need."
Touketsu shook his head.
"If you still have something to talk about with him, then I'll go on ahead. Just hurry and catch up."
With that, he left first on his own.
A trace of apology appeared on Natsuyuki's face.
"I'm sorry. Director Touketsu is just... like that."
She let out a small sigh, sounding almost helpless.
"He has always been cold. The only thing he cares about is anime production. He has no interest at all in interpersonal relationships. He wasn't targeting you... In fact, even among the staff of Dream of the South last year, some people worked with him for half a year and he still didn't know their names."
"It's fine. We're talking about Touketsu, the genius anime director. In my memory, I practically grew up watching his work. Someone like that having a strong personality is only natural."
Sora smiled as he said it.
Of course, when Natsuyuki said, "He wasn't targeting you," it reminded Sora of an old joke from his previous life.
It's not that I'm targeting you. I'm saying everyone here is beneath my notice.
The thought made him smile to himself.
Then he started walking toward the hotel exit.
In less than an hour, the Tokyo Animation Festival's awards ceremony would officially begin.
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