In the morning, several editors of Weekly Shonen looked curiously at the conference room, which had been closed since very early in the morning.
"Who is that boy? Why is the editor-in-chief meeting with him?"
The editorial staff had strict rules: no outsider could enter and leave at will. But that morning, Kurosawa had brought two people and locked himself with one of them—a teenager—in the main room. No one knew what was going on inside, but the rumor spread like wildfire.
"Is he related to the boss?" one suggested.
"Don't talk nonsense," another rebutted. "Kurosawa has always been correct with those things. The personal is not mixed with the work."
"Then it can only be... a mangaka?"
"Looking like that? He looks like he is 16 or 17 years old. He can't be a professional mangaka!"
"Why don't you ask Professor Yamada? He was with Kurosawa this morning."
"Yamada-san, come here!"
Everyone turned to Haruki Suno, who was already placing his backpack over his shoulder. He replied half-heartedly:
"He's the author of Detective Conan. I have to pick up some manuscripts. I don't have time for gossip."
He had not postponed his appointment with maestro Tomato. In his agenda, Tomato continued to have priority. He was its star author. In comparison, Takumi was just a newcomer. Haruki had no intention of investing energy in him.
But upon hearing the title Detective Conan, the other editors immediately connected.
"That boy is the original author!?"
"But... he's just a child!"
The newsroom erupted in murmurs.
"Yamada-san, wasn't it you who discovered that genius? Why isn't he in the conference room with him?"
All eyes fell on Haruki, who scratched his head, bewildered.
"I don't know. Forget it. I am not going to say more. I have things to do."
He left without looking back.
For a few seconds, the office was silent... until someone murmured disdainfully:
"Is it silly or what?"
An editor's career was intimately linked to the mangaka he was in charge of. In most cases, whoever discovered a new author remained as the editor in charge. And Kurosawa, due to editorial policy, did not occupy that direct role.
Many took it for granted that Detective Conan would be edited by Haruki.
But that idiot... he didn't even seem interested.
"You don't want it? Well, I do!" One after another, several editors began to get excited.
That manga had potential. If it took off, the editor responsible would receive recognition and promotion. All that remained was to see how to convince Kurosawa.
—
Not knowing that outside they were already disputing him as if he were a jewel, in the conference room Takumi calmly explained the future arcs of Detective Conan.
"Very good."
Kurosawa nodded nonstop. At first he was worried that Takumi's talent would run out quickly. But the more I listened, the clearer it became to me that I had underestimated that boy.
Then they moved on to the contractual issue: rates, royalties, conditions.
"If we release a compilation volume, the base royalty is 5%. But for you we can raise it to 10%." Kurosawa interlaced his fingers in front of him. "It is the highest percentage in the industry. In return, I would like your promise to give us priority for your future mangas... at least for the next ten years."
"Priority?" Takumi repeated, frowning slightly.
Were they trying to tie him to Hinotori Publishing with a disguised clause? He didn't like nuance.
"Just priority on equal terms," Kurosawa clarified with a smile. "If another publisher offers you more, you have total freedom. We only seek to be your first choice in the event of a tie."
Takumi was thoughtful.
This seemed like an editorial fantasy. A company betting so heavily on a newbie?
But that firmness... Liked.
"Okay."
—
Once everything was clear, Aiko accompanied Takumi to review the contract to sign it.
However, just before signing the signature, Aiko stopped. Something in his chest weighed heavily.
I had heard too many stories of young people swept away by fame. Although being a mangaka wasn't like being a celebrity, Takumi was still a fifteen-year-old boy. Could he live peacefully after debuting?
"Don't worry, ma'am. We can sign a confidentiality clause."
Kurosawa was already prepared. "We are committed to keeping Takumi's identity and age absolutely secret. We will not leak information under any circumstances."
That reassured Aiko.
Signed.
Takumi officially became a professional mangaka.
He would receive ¥4,000 per page, plus 10 % royalties on each tankōbon sold. On a volume priced at ¥3,000, his cut would be ¥300. It wasn't just a contract. It was his first real step.
Takumi had accomplished something that took many years. And I didn't even know it.
"The first chapter will be published in a few weeks." Kurosawa shook Aiko's hand and smiled. "Let us know when you move. We can help them settle in."
"To move? Where?"
"Osaka, of course," he replied, as if it were obvious. "Did you plan to work from Saitama? It's a long way off. Mailings are risky. And besides, Takumi needs an editor by his side. And assistants."
Making manga was not like writing novels. Although it seemed simple, each page required script, composition, sketching, inking, revision. It was not a solitary job. A team was needed. And Takumi couldn't do it all remotely.
"But we've never considered moving!" Aiko tensed up. "I don't have a job there. And he has no record of changing schools. It's unfeasible!"
Although the salary was high, she still wanted Takumi to study. I couldn't see him without a diploma.
"Madam, with all due respect... I think school is not necessary."
Kurosawa frowned.
"Not everyone needs a college degree to succeed. For someone like Takumi, that would be a waste of time. He has something that others don't: talent."
"I assure you that there are no more than fifty people capable of drawing something like Detective Conan today. And they're all in their thirties and forties."
I was right. And he hadn't even mentioned the technical level of the last page he'd seen. Takumi was, in simple terms, an outlier.
But Aiko wouldn't budge. In his heart, he still firmly believed that "education is the best way out." For her, leaving school was unthinkable.
In the middle of the debate, his cell phone rang.
"Answer it, please."
She answered.
"Ishida-sensei? Yes, I'm Takumi's mother... What's wrong?"
"What? The results of the entrance exam? I didn't see them! Did they come out today?... seven hundred and twenty-five points?"
Aiko blushed. His voice trembled.
"Are you sure? Isn't that a mistake?!"
"Yes, yes, thank you... of course I will tell you."
Hung. He stood motionless for a second. Then she hugged her son, forgetting everything else.
"Takumi! You got 725 points! Second place in the entire district! Only 25 from the maximum!"
Takumi was shocked. ¿725? I had lowered the answers on purpose...
Kurosawa stood up, smiling.
"Then I retract, ma'am. Her grades are excellent."
His eyes sparkled.
"If they move to Osaka, we can help them with the residency registration. Also with finding a school for Takumi. You can continue your studies... and keep drawing."
The room, for a moment, was silent.
But in the air... it was already felt that everything was changing.