"Come on, this should be on the shelf already!"
Just at dawn, a young man ran across the streets of Osaka. His girlfriend had pushed him out of bed, asking him to go to the Deya Bookstore to buy the new issue of Weekly Shonen.
They both loved Detective Conan, but since it became a phenomenon, finding a copy was quite an odyssey.
The boy — Fujimoto Daiki — arrived panting at the bookstore just as the owner pulled up the metal curtain. He was sweeping the dust from the entrance.
"Madam, has the Weekly Shonen arrived yet?"
"Don't look for it."
The landlady looked up and shouted at him from the broom:
"This week it was postponed one day! Come back tomorrow."
"Postponed?" Daiki blinked in disbelief. "Don't tell me that! I'm ready."
He went into the store checking every shelf... but he found nothing. An expletive escaped him.
"What the heck is Hinotori Publishing doing? At least they could have given notice!"
Outside, a black Audi pulled up in front of the intersection. From the back seat, someone heard the complaint as they passed by.
"Was the Weekly Shonen delayed?" the man said, raising an eyebrow. His face was fine, attractive. There was something theatrical in each of his gestures.
"It looks like it," replied his assistant at the wheel. "From what I heard, there was a problem with chapter nine of Detective Conan. The author... that Mirai-sensei withdrew the manuscript."
"Did he back down... because of me?" replied Mach-sensei, loosening the collar of his shirt while laughing.
His real name was Hayama Makoto, but everyone knew him as Mach, his artistic pseudonym.
He was the mangaka responsible for the new adaptation of Sherlock Holmes. She was also an occasional model and recurring face in magazines and morning shows.
He was 30 years old, but his youthful air and teenage idol smile made him the crush of countless readers.
That morning I had an interview on Osaka TV. The theme: the release of the Sherlock Holmes manga. He remembered that the rival magazine was also coming out that day... but he did not expect it to be delayed.
"You gave up the compilation volume at the end, huh?" Mach said, laughing smugly. "I knew it. It doesn't matter how hard you try. I have the rights to Sherlock Holmes. Everything else... it's filler."
"I draw better. I'm more handsome. It's normal for him to be scared."
His smile was bright. And completely self-centered.
Inside, the assistant sighed.
Since he debuted at 20, Mach lived in a bubble: natural talent, good face, quick success. But his emotional maturity hadn't grown at all.
And although Tatsuryū Publishing overlooked everything, the professionals knew what he was: a brilliant author... with an unbearable personality.
And that was just the beginning of the duel.
His mind was still active, and in the twinkling of an eye, Mach remembered the holy war of that time. I had heard that many readers were running ads for Detective Conan. Although I didn't know how many were actually influencers or idols, they definitely didn't even make it to a fifth!
"Brother Shuhei, drive."
He waved happily, and the Audi drove off for the television station.
In the morning, at Takumi's house.
Alice was lying quietly in front of the door of the study, and the scene was curious.
Aiko, who had just come out of the kitchen, was startled at the sight of her and almost threw away the cup in her hand.
"Alice, what are you doing?"
"I'm watching Takumi work, Sister Aiko. Please lower your voice..." Alice turned her head, made a gesture of silence with her finger, and rested her chin on her arms again, attentive to the study.
Inside, Takumi drew concentrated.
He frowned, smiled slightly from time to time. The brush glided nimbly through his fingers, and the scene moved smoothly.
Alice was stunned.
I've never seen a mangaka work with such speed... and it seemed that Takumi did not use a previous sketch.
The light in the study was clear, and from his position he could see that he was directly drawing the final manuscript. I was shocked. A real genius? The kind that only appears once a generation?
Alice was not surprised that a novelist wrote without an outline. But manga was different.
A comic requires multiple layers: Distributing the dialogue, coordinating expressions, controlling the rhythm, establishing the frames... Normally, all of that is planned ahead with storyboards.
But Takumi didn't use any. Without a doubt, he armed them mentally. Like a computer... An elegant narrative machine.
"Sister Aiko, Takumi came second in the district high school entrance examination, right?"
Alice got up slowly, shaking off her clothes, and sat down next to the sofa.
"Yes, I was surprised to learn that too." Aiko turned on the TV, turned down the volume, and settled into it. "If that kid had worked hard before... as long as he wants to do it well, he can do anything."
Aiko attributed Takumi's change to hard work.
Alice didn't believe it.
After observing it, it was already clear to him: The boy assigned to him was not just a manga prodigy. He was a genius.
He could come second in academic exams... and at the same time draw the final chapter without previous sketches. Alice even suspected that Takumi could excel at many other things.
But there was a bigger concern.
He had changed the plot of chapter nine at the last minute. Kurosawa had agreed to delay an entire weekly post for him. And the entire publishing house was at risk.
"Will this turn out well...?"
Alice thought about it quietly, shaking her head softly. Then he focused on the television.
After all... I couldn't do much more. It was Takumi's turn.
And that brush would decide everything.
"Mach-sensei, some comment that the release of the single issue of Sherlock Holmes seems like a maneuver to suppress Detective Conan. Have you read that manga?"
The morning talk show on Osaka TV was still on screen, but the faces that appeared made Alice uncomfortable.
"I've heard of that manga, but I haven't read it."
The man in the interview room replied matter-of-factly:
"I think everyone understands that preparing a single volume takes a lot of time. I've been working on Sherlock Holmes for half a year, and the publication date was set several months ago. How could that be an attempt at suppression?"
"Do not easily believe in rumors, nor allow yourselves to be carried away by those who have hidden interests..."
"Dad."
Suddenly, the TV went out. Aiko was holding the remote control, and turning to Alice, she smiled softly:
"It's better not to watch television. We don't want to distract the child while working."
Alice stood still.
"Sister Aiko..."
His chest tightened a little. Aiko might seem alien to the publishing world, but she understood perfectly what was happening. And I didn't want Alice to feel bad.
She also protected Takumi.
"Bang!"
A dry sound roused her from her trance: the door to the studio opened abruptly.
"Alice."
Takumi appeared with a wad of manuscripts under his arm. His expression was determined.
"I finished it. Take it to the publisher."
His voice did not waver.
"And get ready," he added with a smile that lit up—"This character is going to make the girls scream!"