Night fell quietly, and three people sat at the low table to eat dinner, just as they always did.

The television was on, and the voice of an NHK news anchor could be heard.

The voice sounded very dry, unlike its usual passionate tone.

"The Nikkei average fell below 15,000 points today, a drop of more than 60% compared to its peak last year. The latest data released by the Real Estate Research Institute shows that commercial land prices in Tokyo have fallen back to the levels of the early 1960s. The Ministry of Finance announced today..."

Shiori Shirakawa took out the remote control and turned down the TV volume.

"No need to turn it off."

"Kamiya Yuma said."

But you're eating.

"I've gotten used to it. When the bubble was inflating, I heard good news from them every day. Now that the bubble has burst, I have to hear bad news too."

He picked up a hamburger patty and said, "Besides, these things have nothing to do with us."

Hoshino Rin looked up from the bowl.

"Master, when I went to Akihabara to buy online shopping paper last week, I saw that several stores were closed. The largest manga merchandise store in the electronics district also posted a 'Closing Down for Liquidation' notice. But strangely, the shelves for the 'Frilian' manga volumes in the bookstore were always empty."

"Because the number of people buying books hasn't decreased."

Shiori Shirakawa placed the soup bowl on the table and said, "They've simply stopped buying land."

Kamiya Yuma didn't say anything.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Shiori Shirakawa walked towards the door and opened it.

Standing at the door at that moment was Ryota Onodera.

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His expression today was quite complex. He seemed to have something to say.

But I don't know where to begin.

"Senior? It's so late..."

"I'm not here to discuss the manuscript with you."

Ryota Onodera changed into slippers and went into the house, placing a brown paper envelope on the low table.

I saw this while passing by a store and thought I should show it to you.

Kamiya Yuma opened the envelope, and inside was a photograph.

The photo shows the scene in front of a convenience store.

Through the glass window, you can see a man in a suit leaning against the shelf.

He was holding the latest volume of "The Burial of Frilian" in his hands.

His face was covered in tears, and his mouth was wide open.

It was as if it wanted to shout something, but couldn't shout anything at all.

The suit he was wearing was wrinkled. The cuffs were worn white.

Kamiya Yuma recognized the face.

"Okita Anji."

"right."

Hoshino Rin put down her chopsticks, blinked her eyes above her mask, and asked.

"Master knows this person."

"He was my college classmate."

"Looking at the photo, Yuma Kamiya said."

"On the night of the party, he started a commotion and demanded that I pay the bill."

Ryota Onodera flicked his cigarette ash and said.

"The convenience store clerk said he stood in the store for over an hour, reading the entire volume from beginning to end. When he got to the last few pages, he suddenly squatted down and started crying, crying like a child. He said..."

He pulled a crumpled note from his pocket.

He said, "So someone really did draw the lives of losers."

The living room fell silent.

On the stove, the remaining miso soup in the pot was bubbling away.

Shiori Shirakawa went over and turned off the fire.

Yuma Kamiya put the photo back in the envelope and asked, "Where is he now?"

"I don't know. The photo was taken by a convenience store clerk and posted online."

Ryota Onodera stubbed out his cigarette and said, "Are you going to find him?"

Yuma Kamiya shook his head and said, "No need to look, he has already found the answer he needs."

He stood up from his seat and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling window.

Then I just looked at the night view of the bridge outside.

"When I was painting Frilian, I thought about a question: why would an elf who has lived for thousands of years, who has traveled to so many places and witnessed so many people's lives and deaths, continue to move forward?"

He turned around and said.

"Later I realized it wasn't because she could let go, but because she learned to move on with regrets. Frilian did cry, she just cried where no one could see her."

Hoshino Rin put the bowl down and then picked up her sketchbook.

She turned to a brand new page in her sketchbook and then quickly sketched some things on it with a pencil.

Shiori Shirakawa strode forward.

Then he stood next to Yuma Kamiya.

"Then Okita."

"He cried, which means he understood."

Kamiya Yuma glanced back at the photo on the table and said.

Those who understand this will not truly fall.

When Onodera Ryota left, he paused briefly at the entrance.

"Oh right, I forgot to mention the important thing. The first edition of the tenth volume of the manga is one million copies. It's not a reprint, it's the first edition."

He smiled and said.

"While the entire publishing industry was declining, only one manga was seeing its sales rise," Editor-in-Chief Tanaka said. "That's probably what they call..."

"What you call it."

"I asked Kamiya Yuuma."

"The answer of our time."

The door slammed shut with a "bang".

At that moment, Hoshino Rin lifted her head from the sketchbook.

"Master, I just came up with a new composition. Frilian is standing on the ruins, all the buildings around her have collapsed, and only a patch of crimson grass is blooming behind her. Is this metaphor obvious enough?"

"It's too obvious."

Yuma Kamiya said.

"Then let's try another one. She stood on the ruins, said nothing, and just squatted down to water a Crescent Moon Grass that was buried under the rubble."

"Can."

Hoshino Rin lowered her head and continued drawing.

Shiori Shirakawa went to the kitchen to wash the dishes, while Rin Hoshino stayed at the small table in the corner, sketching.

Yuma Kamiya continued drawing storyboards at his easel in the master bedroom.

This residence reflects an ordinary life.

The world outside the window is on the verge of collapse, as if an invisible barrier separates the two.

.........

By early spring of the following year, the cumulative sales of "The Burial of Frillian" had reached ten million copies.

On the sixth floor of the Shueisha building, the editor-in-chief's conference room was full of people.

Editor-in-Chief Tanaka was seated in the very center of the long table.

Ryota Onodera sat on the right. Takahashi sat on the left, towards the back. Taro Yoshikawa stood leaning against the window.

Each person has a business plan in front of them.

The cover of the proposal had five words printed on it.

That was the anime adaptation of "The Burial of Frilian".

"The animation production company has been confirmed as Madhouse. The director is a rising star who just won the Tokyo Anime Award this year. The music is composed by the same person who composed the music for the NHK Taiga drama. The production committee's investment amount is..."

Editor-in-Chief Tanaka reported a figure.

No one spoke in the meeting room.

This figure is more than the total investment in all of Jump's anime adaptations over the past three years.

"This is the first time in my 20 years as editor-in-chief that an anime adaptation has been launched midway through a serialization."

Editor-in-Chief Tanaka stood up and said, "It's not because this manga needs to be adapted into an anime to boost sales, but because the whole of Japan needs this anime right now."

Takahashi adjusted his glasses, opened the proposal, read it through from beginning to end, then closed it and said, "I have no objections."

Ryota Onodera almost dropped the cigarette he was holding in his mouth onto the ground.

Takahashi glanced at him and added.

"I cried again during the flashback chapter of volume eleven. The double-page spread where Frilian laid a bunch of blue moon grass at Simmel's grave was even more unbearable than the flower crown double-page spread in the previous three chapters. I'm over fifty years old, and I was sitting in my study in the middle of the night, crying while looking at the comic. My wife saw me and thought I had some debts outside."

Yoshikawa Taro finally spoke up: "Takahashi, didn't you say this wasn't a shonen manga?"

"I was wrong."

Takahashi took off his glasses, rubbed his eyes, and said, "Even teenagers grow old."

"Then it passes unanimously."

.........

At the end of the year, an awards ceremony was held in the banquet hall of an old hotel in Tokyo.

The annual author recognition event held by Shueisha used to be a small gathering within the industry.

This year, however, things have broken with convention, as a media representative has been included.

Everyone knows perfectly well that there is only one main character tonight.

Kamiya Yuma was wearing the suit that Shirakawa Shiori had ironed three days earlier.

Standing outside the side door of the banquet hall.

Shiori Shirakawa stood beside him, helping him straighten his tie.

Is it tight?

"It's not serious."

"When you go on stage later, don't say anything strange."

"When did I ever say anything strange?"

"In the last magazine interview, they asked you what inspired you to create Frillie, and you said it was because the hamburger steaks your family makes are so delicious."

"That's the truth."

Shiori Shirakawa let out a sigh.

She loosened his tie and then gently patted his shoulder.

"Go."

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