[Anime Crossover] Becoming Mangaka in Anime World

A story's "worldbuilding" refers to an abstract, overarching concept encompassing the narrative's core philosophy, values, and guiding principles. It's the foundation for the plot, character development, and thematic elements of any creative work.

Or to put it simply…

"So you haven't even started yet, have you?"

"L-Look who's talking!"

Eriri flared up, trying (and failing) to hide her guilt. Her voice went up a notch, as though louder words could justify her creative stagnation.

Then came the inevitable flood of excuses: "Creative work isn't that simple!" or "You have to be daring and innovative within the original framework!" The room buzzed with her lively attempts at justification.

Once the laughter faded, Akifumi asked casually, "So, what's the plan now?"

"Well, I have a rough idea," Eriri declared confidently. "I'm hoping to organize everything by the end of this month."

"And you need my help for?"

"Oh, it's simple! Just like before—backgrounds, toning, and that kind of stuff!"

"..."

Akifumi raised a brow. "Just to confirm... does this include coloring too?"

"Umm…" Eriri averted her gaze, her confidence wavering. "Maybe?"

"Maybe?"

"Fine, definitely!" she huffed, clearly embarrassed.

Akifumi sighed, already anticipating the inevitable. If things fell behind, she'd beg him for help again, just like back in middle school.

Those were rare moments when Eriri actually dropped her usual bravado. Back then, he probably would've hesitated and eventually given in.

But now, that wasn't an option.

June marked the announcement of the Tezuka Prize, and there was always a chance he might start serialization. Even if he worked non-stop until June, he'd only make it through to Chapters 7 or 8 of the original draft.

Considering final exams at the end of June and potential summer commitments, Akifumi couldn't afford any distractions.

So...

"I can't help."

Rejecting upfront was better than accepting and failing to deliver. But how should he put it?

It's hard to say no to someone you're too close to. At least he needed a convincing excuse.

Wait, got it!

Akifumi's eyes lit up. "Hey, Eriri, your goal is to become a mangaka, right?"

"A doujin artist who doesn't want to be a mangaka is no real artist!" she declared with conviction.

So she still hadn't given up on that dream. Akifumi couldn't help but picture her as his assistant if he ever got a serialized deal with Shonen Jump. That would be... entertaining, to say the least.

But back to the point: if he could steer the conversation toward her dreams, she might drop the request altogether.

Grinning like a sly fox, Akifumi asked, "Then why not ditch your 'Kashiwagi Eri' alias and focus entirely on manga?"

"You think I don't want to?" she sighed. "But it's not that easy. I can't even tell a decent 20-page short story, let alone tackle a full-length series."

"Wouldn't it be easier if you worked with a good story editor?"

In the manga world, artist-writer collaborations were common—practically the norm. But for Eriri, finding the right partner would be tricky.

Her art style leaned toward the ornate and intricate, so she'd need a story that matched that aesthetic. Otherwise, her talents would go to waste.

Plus, being a doujin artist came with a stigma in the industry. Ironically, her fame as Kashiwagi Eri was more of a burden than a benefit.

Eriri sighed internally, opting not to explain further. "Manga isn't as simple as you think," she muttered.

"I'm basically just a gambler with decent skills."

Huh? That sounded oddly familiar.

Akifumi shrugged it off. "Fair enough. Hey, have you been keeping up with the Tezuka Prize?"

"The Tezuka Prize?" Eriri blinked in surprise. "Of course! Any aspiring mangaka wouldn't ignore it."

The Tezuka Prize was the ultimate gateway for new talent in Japan. Even being listed as a finalist could open doors at other publishers.

Recalling the prize announcement from the previous night, Eriri grumbled, "I still didn't pass the first evaluation. So frustrating!"

Since middle school, she'd been submitting entries under a secret alias. Yet after all these years, she had never passed the initial round.

Thinking back to the recent shortlist, Eriri couldn't help but complain, "Seriously, even a magical girl story made it through? Makes you question the Tezuka Prize's standards these days."

Akifumi tilted his head. "Wait, magical girl? The only one on the list was Madoka

Magica, right?"

Ah...

"Just to clarify," he asked carefully, "You're talking about that magical girl story, right?"

"Madoka Magica! It's the only one listed, isn't it?"

Mystery solved.

"You've been keeping up with the Tezuka Prize too?" Eriri asked, surprised.

"Busted."

Akifumi rubbed his nose sheepishly. "Is it that strange for someone who loves drawing to follow the Tezuka Prize?"

"I guess not."

Eriri didn't doubt his explanation.

But their views on the selection criteria clearly differed.

"The Tezuka Prize focuses on story quality. Magical girl plots are so predictable—how could that pass?"

"Maybe the fixed template works if paired with stunning artwork?"

He decided to let it drop. Explaining would be too much hassle.

"Great," Akifumi thought bitterly, "Now I've run out of excuses to say no."

Was he really going to cave and help her again?

Meanwhile, Eriri's eyes gleamed with a newfound idea.

"Using templates for storytelling… that might actually work!"

As they wrapped up the conversation, Akifumi asked casually, "It's getting late. Want to stay for lunch?"

"Well, since you're offering, I guess I can grace you with my presence."

Akifumi rolled his eyes.

Seriously, how does she always lose it over stuff like this?!