Kousaka Kirino sat somewhat stiffly in the small conference room of the manga editorial department on the 32nd floor of the Kadokawa Building.
A man wearing leopard-print framed glasses pushed open the door and walked in — he looked to be in his early thirties, with a notebook tucked under his arm and two coffee cups in his hands.
He set one of the cups down in front of her.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kousaka-sensei.
I look forward to working with you.”
The man was none other than Saito Ritsu, the editor who would henceforth be in charge of “Lunar Witch Transformation.” Kirino rose politely and returned the greeting.
“The pleasure is mine.
I’ll be in your care, Editor Saito.”
“No need to stand on ceremony.
Being entrusted with a best-selling work is my honor, and regarding what you went through before — as a member of Kadokawa, I should be the one apologizing to you.”
Saito pulled out the chair across the conference table and sat down, placing his notebook on the surface.
Kirino felt a little nervous.
Despite his smile, something about him gave her the same feeling as facing a parent — the presence Saito Ritsu had developed over years in the workplace carried an authority all its own, completely different from the impression she’d gotten when first meeting Iori Setsuna.
Where was that guy?
From the moment she’d entered the manga editorial department, Kirino had been ushered into the conference room to wait.
Saito Ritsu was genuinely swamped and had only just now managed to free himself up.
Thirty minutes had passed since she’d parted ways with Kyousuke.
Kirino grumbled inwardly, her hands beneath the table gripping her phone as she hovered over the messaging screen.
She’d been about to send a text urging him to hurry up, only to suddenly realize she didn’t even have his number.
Has that woman bewitched him into forgetting why we’re here?
It’s been ages already!
Steeling herself, Kirino pulled a pre-sealed document envelope from her backpack and slid the one containing “Lunar Witch Transformation” across the table toward Saito Ritsu.
“This is the manuscript for the final chapter.
I’ve wrapped up the manga.”
“Thank you for your hard work.
Please give me a moment to look it over first.”
Saito Ritsu pulled the manuscript from the envelope and began leafing through it page by page.
Silence settled over the conference room.
The editor flipped through the pages at a brisk pace, and after about ten minutes, Kirino noticed him setting the manuscript back down on the table.
“The ending feels a bit forced, Kousaka-sensei.”
“Eh?”
Kirino was caught off guard — this was the first time she’d ever heard an editor say something like that.
During her entire collaboration with Iori Setsuna, the woman had never once offered a negative critique of her manuscript, even when Kirino herself had sensed something was off.
Saito Ritsu propped his elbows on the table and pushed up the bridge of his glasses with his right hand, a look of genuine regret crossing his face.
“I’ve read your work from start to finish.
The plot through the first eighty chapters was truly excellent, but after that it fell into formula.
I suspect you must have sensed this yourself.”
“You’re right.
I did feel that way.”
Rather than taking offense, Kirino immediately nodded in agreement.
“I was brought onto this work far too late.
The conclusion had already been decided at the serialization meeting, and the magazine’s already run the announcement — otherwise, with some adjustments, it might still have had room to continue.”
Saito Ritsu genuinely felt it was a shame. Visit g.com for the full chapter.
Works that got anime adaptations and received widespread acclaim were few and far between, let alone ones from such a young author.
Iori Setsuna had been utterly incompetent as a managing editor, failing to give Kirino the proper guidance, and that was precisely what had led to the severe decline in quality in the manga’s latter half.
“Well, wrapping it up early might be for the best for you anyway, considering you’re not getting any copyright revenue out of it.” Saito Ritsu suddenly chuckled and patted the manuscript on the table.
“I’m very much looking forward to your next work.
If you’re willing, I’d like to handle it personally — and I guarantee you’ll receive the treatment you deserve.”
With that, he straightened the “Lunar Witch Transformation” manuscript and slipped it back into the envelope, then slid a business card across the table toward Kirino.
“This is my contact information.
When your next work is ready, you can give me a call.”
Saito Ritsu moved to leave the conference room.
“Wait, Editor Saito.”
Kirino hastily raised a hand to stop him.
“Is there something else?”
Saito Ritsu watched as the blonde girl pulled a second document envelope from her backpack and placed it on the table.
“Actually, I’ve already finished the opening chapters of a new work, and I was hoping you could take a look.”
“Hm?” Saito Ritsu furrowed his brow.
“A full manuscript?”
“Yes.”
Kirino nodded, a little nervously.
“Iori Setsuna really taught you nothing, did she?
For an initial editorial review, a Name is sufficient.
A full manuscript takes considerable effort and cost.”
Saito Ritsu accepted the envelope and returned to his seat.
Come to think of it, not much time had passed since her last submission.
She’d managed to complete the final manuscript for her previous work in such a short span — did she really have time to create something new on top of that?
The thought crossed his mind unbidden.
Good works generally needed time to polish, and the opening was always the most mentally taxing part.
Judging from that, the quality of this piece was probably far below her last one, he mused.
From “Lunar Witch Transformation,” he could see that Kirino genuinely possessed the talent to be a manga artist — in terms of pure draftsmanship, calling her a prodigy wouldn’t be an exaggeration.
But plot was her weak point.
The breakout success of her previous work had been a case of catching the right tailwind, and it would be difficult to replicate.
His gaze landed on the document envelope, where the title was written on the cover.
“Cardcaptor Sakura?
Another magical girl shoujo manga, is it?”
He’d held a glimmer of hope, but seeing that title, he couldn’t keep the flicker of disappointment from surfacing on his face.
Kadokawa had no shortage of these — one could even say the market was already flooded with them.
Ever since “Lunar Witch Transformation” had exploded in popularity, editors across the department had been inundated with submissions in the same genre, plenty of works riding on those coattails.
That much was fact — the market feedback at the time had been exceptional.
But just half a year later, works in that same genre had, without exception, started dropping dead, their content staggeringly derivative.
At serialization meetings, it was commonplace to see new works in that category get axed within two issues.
In a market like this, Kirino had submitted yet another work of the same type — was she trying to replicate her earlier success?
Saito Ritsu felt his interest waning, but out of duty as her managing editor, he opened the envelope anyway.
I’ll look it over and then set a new direction for her.
Given the current market, she could try her hand at a school-life manga.
With her art skills, that shouldn’t be a problem.
He was well aware of Kirino’s strengths and had every confidence that under his guidance, she could steadily improve.
But first, he’d have to talk her out of continuing down this dead-end road of magical girls.
He pulled out the manuscript and looked at the top sheet.
Along with the title was the author credit.
“Kousaka Rumiko…
and CLAMP?
A joint credit?”
Saito Ritsu looked up at Kirino.
“So this isn’t a solo work?”
“No, I created it together with someone.
He’s handling the Name, and I’m in charge of the art.”
Kirino nodded, all the while grumbling inwardly.
I told that guy to come up with a decent pen name, and he insisted on using that string of English letters.
What’s so great about some meaningless word, anyway?
“Does this CLAMP have any previous works?”
Saito Ritsu asked the question, even as his mind irresistibly drifted back to the person who’d come up during his morning pleasantries with Hayakawa Rumi and Hattori Takuya — Kousaka Kyousuke, who, as far as he knew, was Kirino’s elder brother.
As a veteran editor, he’d seen plenty of incidents within the department and was long past being surprised by any of it, but he still maintained a considerable degree of alertness.
He’d gotten the full story behind Iori Setsuna’s recent disgrace.
This older brother, who’d seemingly shown up to demand justice for his sister, had been brought into the manga editorial department by none other than Hayakawa Rumi.
If they were merely friends, bringing him in as a visitor would have been a clear violation of company policy — what rookie would dare?
But if he happened to be a newly debuted light novel author, it would all make sense.
Saito had heard that the winner of the most recent Dengeki Bunko Newcomer Gold Prize, “Sigsawa Keiichi,” was currently being handled by Hayakawa Rumi.
Saito waited expectantly for Kirino’s answer, but the girl simply shook her head.
“No.
That guy’s just a bookworm.”
“No creative experience whatsoever?”
Saito Ritsu pressed, unwilling to let it go.
“No, but his Name was really interesting, and I only decided to collaborate with him after it pulled me in.”
Kirino spoke with a slightly awkward shift in posture.
Praising that guy in front of someone else — why did it feel so wrong?
“Speaking of which, what exactly is your relationship with this co-creator?
It happens in the industry, of course, but usually between spouses or relatives.
Without a stable relationship, it’s common for things to fall apart over the division of profits.”
S-spouses?!
Kirino nearly leapt out of her chair.
If her editor got the wrong idea about this, it’d be a serious problem.
The girl felt her face grow warm.
“As much as I hate to admit it, he’s my brother.”