novelraw Chapter 3: Suzuki Kiyoto
Chapter 3: Suzuki Kiyoto
"That's right. This is a manga I created by blending Japanese folklore with ghost story elements — Yamishibai."
Hiroshi nodded.
As he spoke, he noticed Suzuki Kiyoto's expression growing increasingly serious as the man flipped through the artbook. The corner of Hiroshi's mouth curved upward.
Yamishibai — that horror ghost-story anime — had originally been produced by TV Tokyo in his previous life's Japan.
It had been a massive hit from the moment it aired.
Before Hiroshi had transmigrated, the show had run for well over ten seasons and even spawned a live-action adaptation.
That alone spoke volumes about Yamishibai's popularity.
And its debut season, the one that had launched it to fame—
That was the crown jewel among crown jewels!
Sure, the Japan of his previous life differed somewhat from this world's Japan, and some of the details and time period references in the original Yamishibai didn't quite align with this early-1990s setting.But Hiroshi had already identified those discrepancies and, drawing on his manga artist's skills, had adapted everything accordingly.
Not only did the result fit this world's Japan perfectly—
It was perfectly suited to the era as well!
On top of that, if even his shameless reproduction of Togashi's YuYu Hakusho — with minor tweaks to the details — had become a hit—
Then handling Yamishibai, a short-form anthology anime?
That should be a walk in the park.
"Su... Sugoi!"
Sure enough, Suzuki Kiyoto — a balding man in his fifties — couldn't help but gasp in amazement as he pored over the artbook, one exclamation after another escaping his lips.
His eyes had gone wide.
Suzuki Kiyoto was genuinely astonished.
In truth, when his nephew Kawa had introduced this supposedly "up-and-coming manga artist" classmate, Suzuki Kiyoto hadn't been terribly impressed deep down.
In his estimation, even an up-and-coming manga artist couldn't possibly produce a work that matched his specific requirements just like that.
After all, while he was only a second-tier director at TV Tokyo's Production Bureau—
He'd been grinding away in this department for over twenty years.
He'd directed countless productions.
His standards were high.
So his attitude had really been more of a "why not, let's take a chance" sort of thing when he told his nephew Kawa to go ahead and set up a meeting with this manga artist classmate.
And to have the kid prepare something simple — something that touched on the horror theme he was looking for — just to take a look.
He hadn't held much hope.
But now—
The man was genuinely floored.
"This art style, this paneling, this level of storyboarding — you could practically take this artbook straight to production and turn it into animation in no time!"
"And the stories are absolutely captivating. The first one, Talisman Woman — a terrifying encounter in an apartment building — that's genuinely spine-chilling."
"The second, Zanbai — my grandparents used to tell me about things like that when I was a child. It sends shivers down your spine!"
"And the third, Family Rule... A bizarre ritual for exorcising evil spirits?"
Suzuki Kiyoto flipped through the artbook at speed.
He reached the final page.
Only then did he realize that Hiroshi had given him just three stories — short, compact, but remarkably complete horror tales.
And based on his professional director's eye, if they used this artbook directly for production—
With just a bit of expansion—
They could produce three full episodes of animation in short order!
"Nohara Hiroshi, right?" Suzuki Kiyoto slowly exhaled, a faint smile playing on his lips as he looked up at Hiroshi.
"Hai." Hiroshi immediately rose from his seat, bowing his head slightly and inclining his body to show his modesty.
He understood — that opening was Suzuki Kiyoto's preamble. The man had something to say.
The Japanese loved their formalities.
"You're very impressive, and this work you've brought — Yamishibai — it's truly, truly excellent." Suzuki Kiyoto's voice was filled with genuine admiration.
As he spoke, he looked down again at the artbook's clearly hand-drawn cover.
The middle-aged man pushing a cart with a kaleidoscope.
Wearing a bizarre mask.
It created a feeling that was profoundly unsettling, deeply dissonant — yet it stirred a morbid curiosity laced with dread.
Suzuki Kiyoto tapped the artbook with his finger and said bluntly, "This is exactly the kind of work I've been looking for. Nohara Hiroshi, if you're willing, I'd like to purchase this work — Yamishibai — at 500,000 yen per episode!"
500,000 yen — even by 2025 standards, that was roughly 25,000 dollars.
And in this Japan of the early nineties?
It was a very generous offer.
But for Hiroshi, money alone wasn't what he was after.
"Mr. Suzuki, I truly appreciate your offer, but I have one more request — if you'd allow me to share it." Hiroshi kept his head bowed, leaning forward slightly, his tone deeply respectful.
"Oh?" Suzuki Kiyoto raised an eyebrow. Out of genuine appreciation for Hiroshi, he nodded. "Go ahead."
As long as it wasn't anything outrageous, he was willing to oblige this young man.
"I've loved TV Tokyo ever since I was a child. Although my university major was in management, if possible — please allow me to join Tokyo Broadcasting System, to join TV Tokyo, as an assistant director."
Hiroshi laid his request out plainly.
This had always been his dream.
Back in his previous life on Earth, before he was ever Nohara Hiroshi, he had dreamed of becoming a director — or at least someone working in film and television.
Now he had come to this world.
Now he was Nohara Hiroshi.
Which meant he had the entire Earth's catalog of film and television at his back, and in this world, he could reproduce it all flawlessly.
With that kind of advantage, if he didn't pour himself into the industry he loved—
How could he live with himself?
"Hm?" Suzuki Kiyoto blinked, momentarily stunned by the request. "Join TV Tokyo and become a director?"
Then, before Hiroshi could say another word, Suzuki Kiyoto burst out laughing. "Ha ha ha ha! Nohara Hiroshi, no wonder Kawa mentioned you had a dream of becoming a director! And now I see — you really do love the craft, don't you!"
"Yes, I truly do!" Hiroshi bowed his head once more.
"Very well." Suzuki Kiyoto leaned back in his chair, regarding Hiroshi's deeply respectful demeanor with a satisfied nod. "As a Grade 3 Director in TV Tokyo's Production Bureau, I have the authority to recommend new talent. This isn't a problem at all, Hiroshi-kun."
"Thank you so much!" Elation surged through Hiroshi as he expressed his gratitude with heartfelt gravity.
"You have the talent — I couldn't bring myself to let a gifted young man go to waste."
Suzuki Kiyoto smiled and picked up the artbook from the desk, his tone still laced with admiration. "However, at first, you'll only be a temp worker — a contract hire — assisting me with the animation production. But if Yamishibai is a major success, then I believe you'll have earned the right to be promoted to a full-time position."
"I'll give it everything I've got." Hiroshi bowed.
"Wait! Wait! Iwata-kun! Section Chief Suzuki is meeting with a guest — you really can't go in there!"
But before Suzuki Kiyoto could offer any further words of encouragement, a sudden commotion erupted outside the office.
And it was getting louder.
BANG—
The office door was shoved open from the outside. A man in his thirties strode in — thin and wiry, wearing a suit, with a face so sullen and shrewd-looking it practically screamed "untrustworthy."
A pair of owl-like eyes swept coldly over Hiroshi for a fraction of a second, then dismissed him entirely.
Clearly, this intruder didn't deign to give Hiroshi a second glance.
His gaze locked directly onto Suzuki Kiyoto.
"I'm sorry, Section Chief Suzuki — Iwata-kun insisted on coming. I couldn't stop him." Trailing behind the intruder was the young woman who had guided Hiroshi earlier — Kitagawa Yao.
And two male staffers, roughly Hiroshi's age, their faces flushed red with indignation.
All of them were glaring furiously at the man who had burst in uninvited.