Director Daito's Ruthless Timeline
Creating an anime adaptation required multiple stages of production. There were production decision meetings, series structuring at the production level, character design, staff selection, formation of the production committee, budget finalization (the most critical step!), script and storyboard writing, and so on. Even a simplified list revealed this many processes. The reason the workflow was as complex as—or perhaps even more intricate than—live-action filmmaking came down to one thing: money.
Producing anime demanded enormous sums. Even Osamu Tezuka, revered in Japan as the father of manga, had poured every yen earned from serializing double-digit titles in weekly magazines into animation, yet still fell short. It was common knowledge, even outside the industry, that animators were paid poorly. Nevertheless, the sheer number of personnel and expenses involved meant production budgets routinely started in the hundreds of millions of won. Naturally, the process consumed a great deal of time.
“Forget all that! We’re moving at top speed!”
Director Daito swiftly streamlined every stage. “Work, we need to work! Results! We need results!”
Thanks to his colleagues’ “generosity,” he had avoided having his salary confiscated, but from now on every company dinner and meal expense would fall squarely on Director Daito’s shoulders. That might have been tolerable, yet the real problem was that not only the people present at the meeting but every animator at the studio had gathered.
“Director Daito! I knew we could count on you! Damn it!”
“Slurp…! Director Daito, your salary tasted great.”
“Director Daito’s salary, you say? Ah… I miss it. That feels like ages ago now.”
“Ghhhk…!”
Every single day was an ordeal. The financial burden was bad enough, but the mental barrage from his colleagues was enough to make his consciousness blur. Despite their relentless harassment, Director Daito endured in silence, waiting only for the chance to turn the tables.
And then—
“D Note will air in the first quarter of next year. We’re locking the broadcast date for January 2009.”
“Wh-what…!”
“What do you mean, Director Daito!”
“I object!”
Everyone protested fiercely, but Director Daito merely smiled as though he had expected exactly this reaction.
“Speak.”
“It’s already September. Once an anime project is green-lit, it normally requires at least a year to a year and a half. How on earth do you plan to finish that quickly?”
Director Daito nodded at the production team’s words. Believing their argument had landed, the team smiled—only for those smiles to collapse moments later.
“A year and a half, you say? Why do you assume it takes that long?”
“Well, just the series composition and script work alone would—”
“The series composition is already complete, and I’ve secured a promise from the editorial department during our meeting that we’ll receive the full storyboard up to the final chapter of D Note in advance.”
“…!!”
“If the plot is already laid out, script work will take a month at most. We can move straight into directing and storyboarding after that.”
ND House had already decided on most of the staff who would participate in the project during their internal meeting. While forming the production committee and securing the budget remained major hurdles, a work by Wakayama Jun—the current talk of the town—would not require much time to finalize. Even that timeline was tight, but that was Producer Yamaguchi’s responsibility, not Director Daito’s.
Yamaguchi, sensing the future that awaited them, swallowed hard and looked at Director Daito.
“If you set such a brutal schedule, won’t it be difficult for you to endure as well, Director?”
“It won’t be difficult for me alone. We’ll all suffer together.”
With a resolute expression, Director Daito lifted his chin and grinned.
“So much that we won’t even have the strength left for company dinners.”
“….!”
“We’ve been had…!”
“You scheming bastard!”
Criticism flew at Director Daito, who flashed his white teeth.
“B-but what possible merit is there in pushing such an unreasonably tight schedule? I-it’s inefficient!”
“No! Don’t say that—!”
Yamaguchi tried to stop one of the staff members who had spoken up with conviction, but it was already too late.
“I have my reasons.”
Director Daito’s eyes gleamed as though he had been waiting for this exact moment.
“This is confidential, but D Note is scheduled to conclude in January of next year. So! If we time the anime broadcast to coincide with the finale, what do you think will happen?”
They could capture readers still reeling from the manga’s ending and convert them directly into viewers. No matter how massive D Note was at the moment, its popularity would gradually cool once it reached its conclusion. But if the anime aired right at the moment of the finale, they could ride the fresh wave of buzz and momentum without losing a single drop.
It was a flawless, obvious logic. Once laid out, no one could refute it. That was precisely why everyone had been avoiding this scenario.
Yamaguchi frowned and glared at the staff member who had spoken up. The staff member reflected in his eyes was—
Smirking.
“Don’t tell me…”
Yamaguchi whipped his head toward Director Daito. The staff member who had spoken and Director Daito were meeting each other’s eyes and smiling.
“From the very beginning…”
Everything had been part of this wicked(?) Director Daito’s scheme.
“Let’s all work hard to make the early broadcast happen—even if it means pulling all-nighters.”
That night, ND House echoed with the screams of animators.
***
“Excuse me? A movie as well?”
At Jung Junhyuk’s question, Matsuda, seated across from him, nodded.
“It hasn’t been announced yet, but once we get the original creator’s okay, it’s confirmed.”
“I have no objections. If anything, I’m grateful.”
After finishing their usual storyboard meeting in Jung Junhyuk’s workspace, Matsuda delivered the news about the live-action film adaptation of D Note.
“But is that really all right? The timing might overlap somewhat with the anime.”
“Both sides are actually in favor of it. There will be some adjustments, but since we’re following the original manga’s script, as long as the quality is decent there won’t be any glaring differences in reception. On the marketing side, they’re expecting a synergistic effect.”
“Hmm… In that case, the movie might even come out before the anime.”
Once a screenplay was secured, a live-action film could skip straight into production after only minor revisions, drastically shortening the pre-production period. Depending on the genre, a project could be green-lit around the same time as an anime yet reach audiences much faster.
That was how it usually worked.
Usually.
“Apparently the director in charge this time—Director Daito—is showing tremendous enthusiasm and has set the broadcast for January of next year.”
“…Pardon?”
Junhyuk dug at his ear, wondering if he had misheard.
“By next year, you mean 2010?”
“Next year means 2009.”
“Is that even possible? Even the fastest anime productions need at least a year.”
“Exactly. We were worried they might be cutting corners, but Director Daito’s previous works have such strong reputations that we’ve decided to trust him for now.”
Even back when Jung Junhyuk had been an editor, ND House had been one of the more reputable animation studios. Their subsequent projects had also been solid, so Junhyuk simply nodded in understanding.
Writing a screenplay for a movie or an anime—truthfully, he found the idea interesting, but it was probably best if the original creator stayed out of the production process. At the time, Jung Junhyuk had no idea he would become deeply involved in the production himself.
***
The sweltering heat lingering in the air after summer vacation had finally subsided. It was now mid-November, when the once-lukewarm air was turning crisp and cold.
As always, in a quiet corner of the old school building, Kanna and Junhyuk were eating lunch together.
“I’ll probably have to start working on a new project soon.”
“And yet here you are again, eating calorie-packed bread—”
Whoosh!
Before he could finish, Kanna’s fist grazed past Junhyuk’s face.
“Next time I’ll actually hit you.”
Junhyuk’s eyes twitched as he mechanically nodded.
“I’ll probably have to start working on a new project soon.”
“W-wait, are you just going to pretend that didn’t happen—”
“I’ll probably have to start working on a new project soon.”
“……”
Already conditioned by fear, Junhyuk took one look at Kanna’s sharp gaze and tucked his tail between his legs, going along with the flow.
“I-is that so… You have to start working on a new project…”
“If child actors take too long between projects, they get forgotten quickly.”
Kanna let out a heavy sigh, looking genuinely worried, and took a large bite of bread. Junhyuk swallowed the question of whether she was truly worried along with his drink.
“Oh, right. Is D Note getting a movie adaptation or anything?”
“Cough! Hack…! W-well, I haven’t heard anything about that at all! Hahaha…”
“I see.”
Resting her chin on her knees, Kanna stared blankly out the window.
“The female lead is a different age from you. Voice acting is one thing since it’s just the voice, but a movie would be tough.”
“I know that.”
Her hiatus had lasted only three months, yet for Kanna this was the most anxious period of all. She was neither a child nor a full adult—an awkward age. For an actress, it was the time when available roles became most limited. She occasionally did magazine modeling or minor roles, but she had no substantial projects. She would have to endure this period for at least three years. Would she really be able to keep working without being forgotten?
Plip-plop—
As Kanna gazed at the raindrops falling beyond the window and began to sink into melancholy, a carefree voice drifted over.
“You never know. By the time you get home today, there might already be several roles waiting that would fill your stomach one way or another.”
“That’s never going to happen, right? Even getting one offer would be cause for celebration, and it’s already a miracle if I can find any roles at all.”
Kanna answered without taking her eyes off the window.
Her acting career was always uncertain. On set she had to stay constantly alert, and at school the mixture of expectation and jealousy in her classmates’ and teachers’ eyes was somewhat burdensome. That was why the present moment felt strangely comfortable to Kanna.
If she had to explain why—
“Hey.”
“……”
“You’re dozing off again…”
It was because of this strange boy who remained so indifferent to her.
***
“R-really? Two roles came in?”
After finishing her usual lesson at the agency, Kanna shouted at her manager. The manager held two scripts, one in each hand, and handed them to her one by one.
“One is a voice-acting job, and the other is for a movie.”
“Voice acting?”
Actresses Kanna’s age were in low demand. To keep working at this age, many took on voice-acting jobs. Still, it was surprising that offers were coming in for Kanna, who didn’t have much voice-acting experience.
“They contacted us because of the female lead role in the anime adaptation of the manga D Note that you worked on last time. The movie is also D Note, and they want you for the protagonist’s younger sister.”
“Wow…”
The voice-acting offer felt like a lucky break, but receiving consecutive casting calls for a work she genuinely loved was enough to make her want to throw a festival. Determined to give it her all since it had been so long since her last job, Kanna clenched her fists—only for her manager to continue.
“But the schedules overlap quite a bit, so doing both might be difficult. You’ll probably have to choose one. What would you like to do?”
“Huh…?”
Before she could even finish steeling her resolve, the moment of choice had arrived.