novelraw Chapter 116: This Is Doraemon! The Request from Weekly Shonen Jump!
Chapter 116: This Is Doraemon! The Request from Weekly Shonen Jump!
In August, the scorching summer sun roasted Tokyo into a giant Teppanyaki hotplate, and even the air seemed to carry a sizzling, burning heat.
However, amidst this stifling heat that made one drowsy, the seventeenth floor of the TV Tokyo Production Bureau Headquarters Building was like a brand-new kingdom, independent of the seasons and full of passion and vitality.
Ever since the Iwata Section had scuttled away with their tails between their legs to the darkest corner on the seventh floor with the worst lighting, this entire expansive half-floor space had planted the flag belonging to Nohara Hiroshi.
That zelkova wood nameplate for the [Nohara Hiroshi Independent Production Department], personally inscribed by Bureau Chief Sakata, shone brightly under the bright lights of the corridor. It was like a medal of honor announcing the ascension of a new king, making everyone who passed by involuntarily slow their steps and cast a look of awe.
Being personally inscribed by Bureau Chief Sakata was enough to explain the situation!
Inside the department, the cramped feeling of a ragtag troupe from back then was long gone.
Nearly thirty elites from the three core sections operated at astonishingly high speeds, like precision gears injected with brand-new fuel.
The ringing of telephones, the clacking of keyboards, and the heated discussions that occasionally erupted over brilliant idea converged into a symphony bursting with vitality, playing a passionate movement belonging to the victor upon this territory that was once utterly lifeless.
Nohara Hiroshi's Department Manager office, located at the very back, was so exaggerated it resembled a small Private Club.
The massive space of nearly eighty square meters was separated by an elegant folding screen. On one side was the work area, furnished with a massive mahogany desk and a full-wall bookcase;
on the other was a reception area equipped with top-tier projection equipment and leather sofas.Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows was a magnificent view capable of taking in the entirety of Tokyo.
The feeling was as if the entire world lay prostrate at his feet.
Even Nohara Hiroshi sighed with emotion.
No wonder leaders liked to have their offices in high places!
"Department Manager."
A crisp, melodious voice rang out, and the office door was gently pushed open.
Kitagawa Yao, the girl who now held the dual identities of secretary and office manager, had long shed her former greenhorn awkwardness.
She wore a well-tailored business suit, her long hair neatly pinned up behind her head. On her pretty face, which always carried a bit of vitality, there was now an added capability and poise belonging to a workplace elite.
She gently placed a cup of freshly ground Blue Mountain Coffee onto Nohara Hiroshi's desk. Her movements were elegant and standard, and she concurrently reported:
"There's a gentleman outside named Tadokoro Masato, who claims to be an editor from Shueisha's Weekly Shonen Jump. He says he's an old friend of yours and would like to see you."
"Mr. Tadokoro?" Nohara Hiroshi looked up from the planning proposal regarding the audition process for the second season of Kasou Taishou, a gentle smile appearing on his face. "Please invite him in."
Soon, a slightly cramped figure appeared at the office doorway.
The person who arrived was none other than Tadokoro Masato.
He still wore his signature outfit: somewhat messy hair, thick black-rimmed glasses, and that white shirt smelling faintly of printing ink that seemed like it could never be washed completely clean.
However, when his gaze swept across this excessively spacious office and he saw that young man standing up from behind the massive desk with a smile, undisguised shock uncontrollably surfaced in his eyes.
He felt as if he weren't here to meet a manga artist, but rather to have an audience with a young king who had just ascended the throne.
This change was simply too drastic.
When he first met Nohara Hiroshi back then, he was just an Intern who had just entered TV Tokyo.
Now, they hadn't seen each other for a short half-year.
Yet he had already become a highly powerful Department Manager at TV Tokyo!
This was truly astonishing and awe-inspiring!
"Department Manager... Nohara..."
He subconsciously wanted to bow in greeting, his address becoming somewhat dry due to nervousness.
"Mr. Tadokoro, do we still need to be so formal with each other?" Nohara Hiroshi smiled and walked forward, affectionately patting his shoulder and leading him to sit on the sofa in the reception area. The posture was casual, as if they weren't in the center of power at a television station, but rather in some corner cafe.
This amicability, which remained unchanged despite his change in status, quietly settled Tadokoro Masato's hanging heart back into his stomach.
Looking at the young man before him, an unprecedented sigh of emotion swelled in his heart.
A few months ago, he was just a rookie manga artist who, despite overflowing with talent, still had to rely on this Editor-in-charge.
But now, he had already become the god of Viewership Ratings, known near and far throughout the entire Japanese television industry.
This rocket-like speed was simply more... magical than the protagonist of any of the hot-blooded manga he was responsible for!
"Sensei Nohara, I..."
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, Tadokoro Masato finally mustered up his courage and explained his purpose for coming.
He pulled out a report detailing the latest sales figures for YuYu Hakusho from his stuffed briefcase. A bitterness stemming directly from the marrow surfaced on his normally somewhat weary face.
"The Dark Tournament arc of YuYu Hakusho will officially conclude next month. The sales volume of the tankobon volumes has also officially breached the ten million copy threshold. This... this should be a massive, wonderful event."
He paused, an embarrassing awkwardness tricky to speak of flashing in his eyes hidden behind those thick lenses. "But... to tell you the truth, our editorial department has run into an issue recently."
"Hm?" Nohara Hiroshi raised an eyebrow.
"As you also know, several of our Jump pillars—like Sensei Toriyama and Sensei Inoue—have recently gone on hiatus due to health reasons. Meanwhile, the rookies' works can't temporarily fill the gap. This has resulted in... a massive gap in our serialization lineup for the latter half of the year, where the new generation isn't ready to replace the old."
As he spoke, Tadokoro Masato's face blushed practically to the roots of his ears. Almost not daring to look into Nohara Hiroshi's eyes, his voice dropped as low as a mosquito's buzz:
"So... the editorial department wanted... wanted to brazenly come and ask you. Do you... do you have any... new concepts on your end? Of course! I know you are very busy now! Extremely busy! I also didn't expect you to have actually become a Department Manager at TV Tokyo. I am truly sorry... to trouble you... For me... for me to make this request is simply... simply shameless!..."
The more he spoke, the more Incoherent he became. That humility and helplessness belonging to an adult appeared so tragically real in the face of absolute disparity in power.
However, just as he was preparing to apologize for his "shamelessness," a calm yet powerful voice interrupted him.
"I do," Nohara Hiroshi spoke.
"Eh?!" Tadokoro Masato abruptly lifted his head. An unbelievable shock instantly surfaced in his eyes, which had long been occupied by embarrassment.
Nohara Hiroshi simply looked at him calmly, the corners of his mouth curling into a Calm and Indifferent smile.
"Mr. Tadokoro, what kind of story do you want?"
"..." Tadokoro Masato felt as if his brain had been viciously struck by a bolt of lightning, completely plunging into a blank void.
He... he just... agreed like that?
Without even discussing conditions? Without even thinking about it?
Just... casually agreed like that?!
"Um... the editorial department's idea is... they hope... they hope it can be a work aimed at children and young teenagers... with a bit of sci-fi elements." Reluctantly, he laid out the requirement he had originally thought was absolutely impossible to realize.
"Children, young teenagers, and sci-fi?"
Nohara Hiroshi rubbed his chin, a knowing smile flashing in his clear eyes.
This requirement was simply as if it were tailor-made for him.
"Mr. Tadokoro, have you heard of... robots?"
"Robots?" Tadokoro Masato paused for a moment and subconsciously replied, "You mean those... toys for little kids that move when you put batteries in them?"
"Correct." Nohara Hiroshi turned around. Within his clear eyes burned a flame capable of igniting the entire world: "But what if this toy is no longer just a simple toy?"
"What if it possessed a cute appearance, brilliant intelligence, and even an interdimensional... pocket filled with all sorts of wondrous gadgets?"
"What if it could take little companions on all sorts of wonderful adventures during their childhood, giving them all sorts of wondrous experiences and a beautiful life full of childlike wonder?"
He paused, painting a grand, magnificent scroll for Tadokoro Masato—who was long since dumbfounded by these words—that was enough to make any youth's blood boil.
"An ordinary, slightly clumsy child who isn't great at studying suddenly acquires an educational robot from the future."
"It's not a cold machine, but one that is well-mannered, has its own unique thinking abilities, and can even help inspire the children's interests and hobbies, helping them grow up better."
"And that robot also has a 4D Pocket filled with countless gadgets from the future world: a Bamboo Copter that can fly into the sky, an Anywhere Door that can pass through to any place, Memory Bread that can memorize any knowledge, and so on and so on..."
Tadokoro Masato just stood there, blankly staring at the young man before him.
The astonishment on his face grew.
He hadn't expected that he had merely casually mentioned the requirement, yet this young man had already confidently outlined the general plot of an entire story.
Making his heart—a heart that had long been worn down by reality until it was somewhat numb—uncontrollably begin to beat violently anew!
"Then... then what is the name of this work?" His voice carried an irrepressible tremble.
Nohara Hiroshi turned around, looking at the sky outside the window dyed golden by the setting sun. The corners of his lips curled into a brilliant, confident smile capable of turning the heads of an entire era.
"Let's call it..."
"Doraemon."
A monstrous wave surged in Tadokoro Masato's heart.
"Dora...emon?"
Tadokoro Masato subconsciously repeated this name full of childlike wonder and wondrous charm, feeling his tongue tying in knots.
However, Nohara Hiroshi didn't give him too much time to think.
"Mr. Tadokoro, wait a moment for me."
He stood up, walked to his massive mahogany desk, casually pulled out a stack of brand-new A4 drawing paper, and picked up a completely ordinary 2B pencil.
Then, under Tadokoro Masato's astonished and bewildered gaze, he sat down.
No conceptualizing, no drafts, not even the slightest hesitation.
The moment the pencil tip made contact, the entire world seemed to quiet down.
Leaving only the soft, rustling sound of the pencil moving across the paper, like spring silkworms tirelessly chomping on mulberry leaves, or like the spinning wheel of fate weaving a brand-new legend about to be born.
Tadokoro Masato watched blankly.
He watched as the silhouette of that weak yet kind-hearted boy with glasses, "Nobi Nobita," was outlined beneath that pencil with the smoothness of Floating Clouds and Flowing Water.
He watched as that round, blue, earless cat-like robot, "Doraemon," bearing that signature warm smile full of healing power, hopped out alive from the void of the paper.
He even saw how the whimsical Bamboo Copter, pulled from the 4D Pocket, carried the two youths flying toward that azure sky symbolizing freedom and dreams...
Time seemed to lose its meaning in this moment.
Tadokoro Masato felt as if he weren't watching a drawing session, but personally bearing witness to the entire process of a miracle being born—a miracle capable of driving all of Japan crazy.
This was too whimsical!
This was too sci-fi!
When Nohara Hiroshi set down the pencil in his hand and gently pushed those dozen or so Manuscripts, still exuding the fresh scent of graphite, in front of him, Tadokoro Masato felt his breathing completely stop.
It was a rough sketch that wasn't fully colored, the lines simple, even a bit rough.
But the precise paneling, the art style full of childlike wonder, and the unrivaled, warm power radiating from between the lines—a power stemming from friendship, from dreams, and from the purest yearning for the future...
It truly hit the depths of his soul like a bolt from the blue!
"God... godly work..."
He stretched out his hand trembling. His eyes, hidden behind those thick lenses, had long been filled with ecstasy: "This... this will absolutely become... No! I have never seen such a cute art style! Such interesting subject matter! It's episodic! The episodic format that you, Sensei Nohara Hiroshi, are best at! That's right! Exactly like this!"
He was far too aware of the golden value of these Manuscripts!
Youth, friendship, sci-fi... this was practically an ace tailor-made for their Jump!
And it indeed was an ace.
Nohara Hiroshi wasn't using the initial drawing techniques to draw Doraemon, but rather the mature techniques of later years to draw this classic children's manga.
Furthermore, the content was the same as what was drawn at the very beginning.
Naturally, it formed the effect of an ace!
"Sensei Nohara, I... I'll immediately take it back to the editorial department! No! I'll call Editor-in-Chief Torishima right now! This... this is too suitable for us! Especially for kids from first grade to fifth grade, they will absolutely go crazy for it!" Tadokoro Masato was extremely excited.
"Not just children." Nohara Hiroshi slowly shook his head, a wise light grasping everything flashing in his clear eyes. "Mr. Tadokoro, have you forgotten that we ourselves were also children once?"
"Inside each of us lives a version of ourselves like Nobita: weak, lazy, yet incredibly kind. We, too, once fantasized about having an omnipotent friend like Doraemon to accompany us in facing the difficulties and malice of this world."
"This manga is a fairy tale for children, but even more so... it's a gentle love letter from childhood for us adults whose sharp edges have long been worn smooth by reality."
These words completely stunned Tadokoro Masato.
He looked at that young man, many things surfacing in his eyes, but ultimately they gained an added gleam of brilliance.
"I... I understand..." He let out a long breath, a breath that seemed to carry away all the confusion and bewilderment he had felt in his life so far.
"I'll leave the coloring to you guys." Nohara Hiroshi's voice sounded again, carrying an unquestionable poise: "Doraemon is blue, Nobita's clothes are yellow, Shizuka is pink... Once these main color tones are set, leave the rest for the assistants in your editorial department to complete. After all, I don't have the time to do this simple coloring work."
This was overflowing with the absolute confidence belonging to a top-tier author.
Yet Tadokoro Masato nodded repeatedly upon hearing it, his posture as respectful as a believer listening to a divine oracle.
"Hai! Hai! I understand! I understand it all! Please rest assured! Our editorial department will definitely use our top-tier team to offer the most perfect colors to this great work!"
He carefully tucked the Manuscripts into his briefcase like he was holding a rare treasure, and then bowed deeply, deeply toward Nohara Hiroshi.
"Then, I shall take my leave first! Department Manager Nohara!"
...
Only when Tadokoro Masato's figure, filled with excitement and fanaticism, disappeared from the office doorway did Nohara Hiroshi finally let out a long breath.
He leaned against the soft leather sofa, feeling every component in his body emit a groan from being overburdened.
Advancing on three fronts simultaneously was indeed... a bit tiring.
Beep! Beep-beep!
Right at this moment, that brand-new Panasonic P100 intrusively emitted a buzzing vibration once more.
He picked up the phone. Seeing the familiar name on the screen, the work fatigue on his face was instantly replaced by a patch of tenderness.
It was Misae.
"Hello? What's wrong?" His voice unconsciously softened significantly.
"Hiroshi-kun~" On the other end of the phone came Koyama Misae's lively voice, warm as a little sun, and carrying a slightly spoiled nasal tone: "When do you get off work? I... I suddenly really want to eat the yakitori from that place 'Toriko' in Ginza~ Especially the grilled chicken skin, so crispy and fragrant, I even dreamed about it!"
"Alright, whatever you wish." Nohara Hiroshi chuckled lightly, his voice full of doting: "Get ready, I'll be home in half an hour to pick you up."
Hanging up the phone, he stood up and walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window, looking out over the steel metropolis beneath his feet, seemingly plated with a layer of shattered gold in the glow of the setting sun.
He suddenly felt that Misae's phone call had come at exactly the right time.
Recently, she seemed to have been staying at home all by herself.
Even though she didn't say it, how could the curiosity and yearning for the outside world, belonging to a young girl, be confined by a small apartment?
It was time to take her out and let her properly relax and change her mood.
It could also count as a slight relaxation for himself!
...
Ginza, Toriko.
It was still that Japanese-style private room full of a sense of privacy, still those top-tier Binchotan charcoals, and still that top-tier yakitori grilled until crispy on the outside and tender on the inside, dripping with meat juices.
Misae ate to her total satisfaction. On her pretty face, which always bore a somewhat naive charm, brimmed a happiness born from being wrapped in delicious food and love.
However, after a few cups of sake down her throat, that slightly tipsy intoxication also hooked up that tiny, imperceptible thread of loss from the bottom of her heart.
"Sigh..." Cupping her cheek, she looked at the brilliant neon lights outside the window and let out a faint sigh: "Hiroshi-kun, tell me, am I really useless?"
"Hm?" Nohara Hiroshi was slowly sipping the sake in his cup. Hearing this, he raised an eyebrow.
"Look at you, doing so many amazing big things every day. First shooting a TV drama, then drawing manga, and now you have to do some variety show... And me, all I know how to do is stay at home, cook, clean the house, like... like a useless parasite." Her voice grew softer and softer, and a gloomy mist clouded her beautiful large eyes.
Nohara Hiroshi set down his sake cup, reached out, and wrapped her delicate, boneless little hand in his own palm.
"Fool, what are you talking about." His voice was gentle, yet carried a power that brooked no disobedience: "I told you, wait a little longer. Right now, all the funds are invested in Big Brother's agricultural Kabushiki Gaisha. Once things are on track over there, whatever you want to do, I'll support you."
"I know..." Misae pouted, her voice full of grievance: "But I just feel... so idle."
"Then wait a little longer and let me find a good method, okay?" Nohara Hiroshi chuckled.
"Okay~" Misae would naturally agree.
Looking at her pitiful appearance, Nohara Hiroshi's heart stirred, remembering what Tadokoro Masato had spoken of today regarding the scarcity of rookie manga artists.
He had a bit of an idea.
"If I bring all those manga from my previous world into this world, act as a Copycat and draw the drafts myself, then find some rookie manga artists to color them and expand the content according to my requirements..."
"If that's the case, perhaps I can obtain a lot of manga copyrights!"
"If TV Tokyo wants to remake these manga later, then I can have Misae act in the name of a studio to contact TV Tokyo. She could even sell them for more money, and then I can handle the production and filming."
The more Nohara Hiroshi thought about it now, the more he felt there was a way.
After all, the manga of his previous world's Japan...
It was practically a treasure trove!
It was a gold mine!
Manga of all levels. Not just children's manga, but also hot-blooded Shonen manga, even crime manga, and much more.
Everything one could wish for was there.
If all these treasures could be unleashed within this parallel world's Japan...
"Then I'll strike it rich!" The smile on Nohara Hiroshi's lips turned even more brilliant.
He had indeed found a place to keep Misae busy.
Thus, the two of them ate a simple meal.
Under the suggestion from Misae, who said she wanted to lose weight and didn't want to eat too much, the two began to stroll hand-in-hand through the luxurious and mesmerizing Ginza nightscape, like the most ordinary Tokyo couple.
Even though it was past nine o'clock, the public security in Tokyo was still very good, and it was also bustling with crowds.
The two of them leaned against each other as they walked slowly.
Chatting about their embarrassing moments and happy times from their youth, forgetting many of the dirty tricks of the workplace.
Their mood became increasingly relaxed.
And right at this moment, they crossed that brightly lit main road and turned into secluded, quiet alleys filled with the atmosphere of daily life.
Finally, deep within an inconspicuous, one might even say slightly dilapidated alley, Nohara Hiroshi stopped his footsteps.
"Hm?" Nohara Hiroshi frowned slightly.
In front of him was a tiny eatery with only a solitary lantern hanging at the door.
The dim yellow light illuminated the three hiragana characters "めしや" (Meshiya / Eatery), filling them with a sense of story.
"What's wrong?" Misae looked curiously at this ordinary, somewhat dilapidated little eatery, not understanding why Nohara Hiroshi stopped here.
"It looks a bit familiar, quite peculiar." Nohara Hiroshi looked at this familiar scene, a trace of nostalgia flashing in his clear eyes.
"Familiar?" Misae was puzzled.
"Let's go, let's go inside and take a look." Nohara Hiroshi chuckled lightly. Hand-in-hand with the curious Misae, they pushed open that slightly aged wooden sliding door.
"Welcome."
A hoarse, steady, magnetic voice came from behind the bar.
A man wearing a blue Japanese chef's coat, bearing a shallow scar on his face but with eyes as calm as the deep sea, was unhurriedly wiping the plate in his hand with a clean white towel.
A few customers were seated scattered at the bar.
There was a salaryman in a suit, Dead Drunk, constantly complaining about his boss;
a hostess from a bar wearing flashy performance clothes but carrying a bit of loneliness on her face;
three women who always huddled together, chattering away about men, and only ever ordering Ochazuke—the "Ochazuke Sisters";
and those few bouncers in black suits who looked Fierce and Evil, but were currently arguing until their faces were red over a plate of octopus wieners...
This place seemed to be a forgotten corner within this bustling metropolis.
A warm harbor after night fell.
"Wait? Are you..."
"Nohara Hiroshi!?"
However, when Nohara Hiroshi pulled Misae inside, everyone present, including the boss, widened their eyes.