Sora Kamakawa had the distinct feeling he was moving forward - one measured step at a time - even when the studio itself seemed to be breathing on the edge of its limits.
"You're in a surprisingly good mood today, Kantoku," Sumire said as she set a neatly stacked pile of checked genga on the desk, her gaze catching on the easy smile on his face.
"How could I not be?" Sora laughed, the sound carrying the lightness of someone still tasting good luck. "We had a real haul today. Our merchandise collaboration agreement with Hata Animation got upgraded - they've promised to support the Natsume Yuujinchou goods release under Class B contract specifications. And on top of that, we've got another product placement deal ready to sign. Two wins in one day."
He leaned back, too energized to hide it.
"And the best part is, once one brand comes in, others tend to start knocking. If that happens… this project could recoup a pretty substantial chunk of its costs just from placements."
Sumire went quiet for a few seconds, eyes dropping to the papers as if she were weighing every word before letting it out.
"But if we take too many placements, it will hurt the viewing experience," she said evenly - neither cutting down his excitement nor feeding it. "The premiere performance for Natsume Yuujinchou was… exceptional. Yume Animation has never had a seasonal anime open with ratings and reception like this. Still, you need to keep your head straight. The priority is the quality. Don't let small profits latch onto you."
The warning landed in a very specific place. For a moment, Sora remembered dramas and series he'd watched packed with intrusive ads - placements that barged into scenes like a shove, breaking the mood and souring even the viewers who wanted to like it.
He drew a slow breath, and his smile softened into something restrained.
"I get it," Sora said, nodding with quiet seriousness. "Your reminder matters. Even if more offers come in, we have to see whether what they want to insert actually fits the tone of the work."
His fingertips tapped the desk lightly, as if keeping time.
"Because our goal is to take the number one ratings spot in our broadcast region."
A show like Natsume Yuujinchou could absorb everyday advertising without feeling wrong - food, drinks, simple household items, the kind of things that could naturally exist in the protagonist's world without scuffing the story's intimacy. But if a cosmetics brand showed up, or anything that screamed commercial in the middle of a delicate scene, forcing it in would crack the heart of the narrative.
And cracks, when they piled up, turned into distrust. The audience would wrinkle their noses. At that point it wouldn't just be ratings taking the hit - it would be merchandise sales, collectibles, BD numbers. In the end, it might not even deserve to be called profit.
Number one…
Sumire blinked, briefly dazed, as if that possibility had crossed her chest without asking permission. If the next episodes were loved the way the first one was…
Then "number one" didn't feel like a distant dream. It felt… possible.
Warmth rose inside her, but she contained it quickly, like snapping a lid onto a pot before it boiled over. That kind of joy, she wanted to save for the moment it became real - for when she could let herself smile without restraint, jump, and grab Sora so they could shout together.
Not now. Now was the time to put everything in its place and push the work up to the highest ceiling their skills could reach.
"And there's one more thing…" She shifted back to the practical. "From here on out, our workload is going to get heavier. The finished cut for episode three only came in yesterday. In reality, our overall pace is already slowing little by little. Over the next few weeks, the load's going to press down. Be prepared for that."
"I am," Sora answered simply.
Then, as if he realized agreement alone wasn't enough, he added, "Thank you."
"No need," Sumire said, a small, almost discreet smile slipping onto her lips before she returned to the work in her hands.
Time passed the way it always did when a studio entered survival mode - too fast, and too heavy. In just a few days, Natsume Yuujinchou erupted into conversation because of its scores and reviews, and the buzz spread through Japan's anime industry. The wave was strong enough that Sora's social media following crossed six hundred thousand - people arriving out of curiosity, out of recommendation, out of that almost childish urge not to be left out when something "genuinely good" appeared.
Shikoku felt it too. Plenty of fans across the four prefectures - Tokushima, Kōchi, Ehime, and Kagawa - who hadn't watched episode one the week before were now ready and waiting for episode two, like someone showing up late to a festival and sprinting to catch the music.
On Friday, episode two of Reincarnation of the Maou aired, and its numbers barely changed: a nationwide rating hovering around 4.25%, a slight rise so small it was almost invisible.
On Saturday, The Dragon King Next Door did a little better than the previous week, climbing to 4.20% nationwide.
Also on Saturday, Card dipped slightly, closing at 4.30%.
That was the normal pattern. Unless a show was so high-quality it became a rare, explosive phenomenon, later episodes tended to stabilize around the premiere rating - like a heartbeat settling back into rhythm after an adrenaline spike.
And then came Sunday, eight p.m. When episode two of Akane no Sora began, the NatsuYume forum was noticeably louder.
No matter how high Natsume Yuujinchou was being rated, no matter how fiercely critics praised it and inflated expectations, plenty of viewers outside the broadcast area still couldn't watch it. For that audience, in that moment, the "best anime of the season" could only be Akane no Sora.
Natsume… they'd have to wait for the BD release. Wait until they could get it officially afterward.
For the next two hours, NatsuYume's hottest topics were dominated by Akane no Sora, refusing to give up the top slot even once.
But for people in Tokushima and the surrounding area, anxiety had already begun to slide toward something else after nine-thirty. It was as if the collective mind were slowly letting go of one promise and clutching at another - drawn by a different kind of anticipation.
As the time for episode two approached, the comment section on Natsume Yuujinchou's official account started to flood.
"Is this anime really that amazing? I didn't watch episode 1 last week… am I going to be lost if I start with episode 2?"
"Welcome! I'll be blunt: if you read the pinned post explaining the relationships between Natsume, Reiko, Nyanko-sensei, and the youkai, you can start from episode 2 without any problem. You can tell from episode 1 that it's the kind of series with one small story per episode. Once you understand the world, jumping in from the middle won't be hard."
"I saw a ton of people saying the story makes you cry. Is that true? It's not going to fall apart starting in episode 2, right?"
"No one can guarantee that… but if Natsume Yuujinchou keeps the same level in every episode as the first, you can bet on it - it becomes the best anime of the autumn cour in Japan. By a wide margin."
"Why do you have to put one show down to hype another? Praise Natsume all you want, but don't step on Akane no Sora."
"I'll back this up: just going off the feeling of episode 1, Akane no Sora was behind in pacing and story impact. Now we're minutes away from episode 2 of Natsume. If it comes in at the same level, you'll understand why we spent the whole week talking it up…"
"Go, Natsume! Go, Kantoku Sora Kamakawa! Just don't drop the ball on episode two!"
Five minutes remained until ten.
In a modest apartment, with Tokushima TV on in the background, Akira Hagiwara had a table loaded with skewers, side dishes, and cans of soda. He watched the commercials with lazy calm, chewing as if he were preparing for a "test" he still wasn't sure was worth losing sleep over.
The current ad was the kind that always showed up late at night: miracle supplements, promises of vigor, phrasing that danced right on the edge of embarrassment.
"'For… lack of male energy…,'" Akira repeated under his breath, disdain in his eyes.
He bit into a piece of grilled offal and let out a short laugh.
"That stuff doesn't even come close to what a properly done yakiniku can do."
He took a long drink of soda, sank into the back of his chair, and blinked slowly.
The week before, he'd gone to bed early like he always did. He watched Akane no Sora, turned off the TV, and went straight to sleep without even thinking about what his local station aired afterward. The next day he woke up to a surprise that felt like a joke: Tokushima TV had broadcast an anime being praised even more loudly than Akane no Sora.
That… wasn't nothing.
And the detail that made him restless was sharper still: among viewers in Shikoku's four prefectures who had watched both premieres, most said Natsume Yuujinchou was, yes, better.
Akira had been an anime fan for two decades. He'd watched hype be born and die more times than he could count, learned to distrust exaggeration… but when it wasn't just one person, when it was a lot of people saying the same thing - especially when the comparison was the strongest title of the cour - then it stopped being "personal taste" and started looking like a real phenomenon.
Even with his near-sacred habit of sleeping at nine-thirty, he forced himself to stay awake until ten.
He yawned quietly and muttered, mostly to himself, "They say this anime really gets to you… but my body clock is begging me to pass out. I hope it's as interesting as everyone claims. Otherwise I'm going to fall asleep halfway through."
Ten o'clock arrived.
The commercial finally ended. Akira's gaze sharpened, as if the room had suddenly gone quieter, and the opening of Natsume Yuujinchou began.
He watched the theme song with genuine attention, absorbing the atmosphere, the choice of imagery, the way the show introduced itself without shouting. When the opening ended, the title appeared on screen:
"Episode 2 - The Shrine of the Dew God."
Dew God…?
Akira frowned.
"What a strange title."
The episode began with a brief reset: Natsume's everyday life at school, the way he fit in - or didn't - with other people. Soon the class was organizing a kimodameshi, a "test of courage," and an important supporting character stepped into view: Sasada, the kind of character who arrived lightly but clearly had a role waiting for later.
Akira took another sip of soda and blinked, assessing.
The art…
It was… too gentle.
Yes. Exactly what the comments had said. It looked like an ordinary slice-of-life anime, with almost no immediate flash. Nothing screamed "epic production." The protagonist didn't have an aggressively memorable design. He spoke with a kind of softness that didn't try to force affection - it simply existed. The female characters were also straightforward, without that desperate effort to grab attention.
There was no blatant fanservice. No exaggeration.
Just a quiet simplicity.
So why did so many people insist the story and music were absurdly good? Why did they swear that if you watched closely, at some point you'd realize your eyes were wet without even knowing when it started?
Akira breathed out slowly, setting judgment aside for later.
"Alright… let's see," he murmured, adjusting himself a little more comfortably in the chair. "I'll decide when we get there."
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