5:50 p.m. A black Audi slid down the slope leading to the heart of Takamura's Book City, where the day's sales were still bustling in display cases and shelves.
"Shuhei, what do you think?" Am I too formal?
Hayama Makoto, also known as Mach-sensei, tugged at the collar of his shirt, inhaling its perfume. I had chosen a soft fragrance with citrus notes, nothing invasive.
"You look impeccable. Fair suit, discreet perfume. Tonight, Mach-sensei, you're in conquest mode," Shuhei smiled from the steering wheel.
"I hope so.
Makoto carefully adjusted his hat and sunglasses and got out of the car. "I'm going to get her. Stay here.
The street in front of the bookstore was crowded. Promotional panels, printed bags, signature stands, children with new tomes in their arms. Employees ran with boxes under their arms. The atmosphere had something of a carnival in it.
"Today's sales are down at all," Makoto thought proudly. The media had called him non-stop since the morning. Tatsuryū Publishing had confirmed its first signing session. The most famous manga novel adapter... He was living his moment.
He walked into the tent without wanting to look too much. Maybe Miyuki Arai would be there. The saleswoman who served him firmly last time. Beautiful, simple, somewhat serious. Just what he needed to balance his ego.
Near the counter, a young woman was going through tomes with her daughter. Makoto glanced at her fleetingly. "Maybe I'm a fan, too. Many already have children. Time is cruel. I should get married someday, too."
But the dream was broken.
"Ma'am, don't buy Detective Sherlock!" Detective Conan is much better.
The voice came from a man with a briefcase, a light gray suit, a friendly expression.
Makoto turned around with a frown.
"Who is this guy who dares to sabotage my sales?"
"Detective Conan?" That's a children's manga," he said sarcastically. How can it compare to Detective Sherlock?
The office worker did not flinch.
"I came to buy Sherlock. But after comparing both... I prefer Conan. He has a heart. He has rhythm. Not only does it shine... Breathe.
He gestured relaxed to the opposite shelf.
"Look at that tail." They are about to exhaust the second batch.
Makoto looked. It was true. The red shelf had more flow than his. The image of the subway poster... now he was the face of a silent fever.
Then, the woman next to the daughter intervened:
"Oh, yes. Conan is the one on the poster that appears on all the trains. I saw it this week.
He smiled and shook his head softly.
"But I leafed through Detective Sherlock, and I liked it. Mach-sensei's art is elegant. It does not have the darkness of the original novel. My daughter loves it too.
Makoto breathed.
"The style still convinces." "Everything is under control."
But inside... I knew something was changing. That sales depended less and less on reputation, and more on what touched the heart.
At 5:50 p.m., a black Audi was driving down Otabashi Avenue toward Takamura Book City.
"What do you think of my outfit, Shuhei?"
Hayama Makoto, known as Mach, tugged at his shirt collar as he inhaled the citrus perfume he had chosen for the evening.
"Impeccable, Mach-sensei. The suit fits you perfectly, and the perfume is not distracting. Tonight, you are sure to win over Miss Arai," replied his assistant in a confident tone.
Makoto smiled, carefully put on his beige hat, dark glasses, and got out of the car as if walking on the red carpet.
"I'm going to look for her." Wait for me here.
The City of the Book was still full. The day's sales had not stopped, and the atmosphere was even livelier than yesterday.
"Yesterday's numbers made me famous again." The national media had contacted him. Tatsuryū Publishing confirmed the first copy signing session. He was the company's most popular adaptation mangaka, and fans were starting to chant his name again.
Makoto entered without haste. As he searched for Miyuki Arai, his thoughts floated between self-congratulation and desire.
"Miyuki is beautiful... simple, yes... but with class." "Although it doesn't shine, it could shine next to me."
But just as he was crossing the main hallway, a voice interrupted his fantasy.
"Ma'am, don't buy Detective Sherlock! Detective Conan is much better!"
Makoto spun in annoyance. A kind-looking office worker was talking to a young woman holding her daughter's hand.
"Who does that guy think he is? Sabotage my sales in the middle of the bookstore..."
He approached with a wry smile.
"Detective Conan?" That's manga for children," he said in a sarcastic voice. How is it going to compare to the elegance of Detective Sherlock?
The office worker smiled, without losing his calm.
"I came for Sherlock too. But when comparing them, Conan has more soul. Mach's art is beautiful, yes... but Conan's story caught me. Look over there," he pointed to the tail in front of the red shelf. They are about to sell out the volumes.
Makoto looked. The shelf dedicated to Detective Conan was almost twice as crowded. The edition with bookmarks was the most sought-after.
The woman intervened.
"Ah, Conan. The one with the subway poster. I saw him every day this week.
He shook his head and flipped through his copy of Detective Sherlock.
"But I like this one. The drawing has elegance. It doesn't feel dark or heavy. My daughter loves it too.
Makoto breathed a sigh of relief.
"There's still an audience for the style."
In another section, Makoto walked over to the counter.
"Is Miyuki Arai there?"
The bookseller blinked.
"Your shift is over.
Makoto quickly took out his phone, he didn't want to be heard.
"Miss Arai, why did you leave earlier?"
The response was not long in coming.
"Something happened at home."
Makoto sighed. "Tomorrow will be." "Women always end up looking for someone like me."
He turned and walked out of the building as if he had gained something. He returned to the Audi with his chin up.
But he did not know that his scene had been observed.
"Hahaha, Fan, Fanqie, did you see that rooster walk?"
A manga editor who was reading with his colleague slapped him. "That back—isn't it Mach's?"
Yamamoto Hiroshi, a veteran editor at Weekly Shonen, frowned.
"Editor Suno, don't make a fuss!"
But when he looked, he stopped. "It's him. It's Mach. I recognize that position.
Suno, editor-in-chief, was stunned.
"That's Mach?" With that petulant air... he seems anything but the genius behind Sherlock.
Yamamoto sighed.
"Editor Suno, don't be fooled. Mach is not going to defeat Master Mirai. There is no comparison.
Detective Sherlock had good technique. But Detective Conan was passion, youth and rhythm.
When they were both placed on a shelf... readers chose what they felt close to.
"Mom, this bookmark is beautiful...
A girl passed by with her mother. He held the maple leaf printed with Kid's silhouette. And Hiroshi saw it gleam between his little fingers. He felt hot in his chest.
"The original manga... finally compete with adaptations."
In the youth newsroom, Kurosawa crossed his fingers over his mouth, trying to hide the color on his cheeks. In front of him, Alice sat with a tense back.
"Ding-ling-ling...
The phone rang.
"You answer," Kurosawa said.
"Yes...
Alice took a deep breath, picked up the receiver.
"Hello?"
A voice burst out on the other end.
"Congratulations!
Kurosawa sat up when he heard her.
"The latest figures show that Detective Conan surpassed 70,000 copies sold in Osaka in less than 24 hours!"
"It's a miracle!" Alice, tell Kurosawa that even though their departments are different, they have to invite the whole team over for dinner!
Alice lowered the receiver slowly.
And Kurosawa exhaled through his nose... without saying a word.
But his fingers were still crossed.