Work Text:
Aoi’s feet hit the firm stone of the outdoor stairs. Today was the first truly cold day of the year — the winter chill had settled in the city. She could’ve sent Watanabe an email or notified him over text, but the news she had was so good it was worth being delivered in person. Especially on the rare day that Jun Watanabe was at the office. With Musani working on more than one show per season, he was away more often — securing their contracts and gathering funding for future projects. Rumour had it that they might even get to work on a full-length movie soon. The thought made Aoi feel dizzy. Or it could’ve been the fact that she had just run up three flights of stairs in record time. She stopped to catch her breath before pushing open the door to the roof.
Jun Watanabe was watching the sun sink below the city skyline. The smoke from his cigarette slowly rose to meet the clouds.
“Watanabe-san,” she called.
He turned around to face her. “Ah, Miyamori. You look like you have news for me.”
“The director had just finished the last storyboard for the OVA,” Aoi nearly shouted. The excitement was bubbling inside of her; she could hardly keep herself from jumping up and down. Instead, she walked over to Watanabe and handed the copy of the finished storyboards to him.
“That’s a new record for Kinoshita-san,” Watanabe chuckled. “And you didn’t even have to lock him up this time.”
Her face must’ve had the most horrified expression because Watanabe choked on the cigarette smoke. He coughed and waved his hands to indicate that he wasn’t serious.
“I kid, of course,” he said. “I will send these to Nogame-sensei right away so that we can get a head start on the production. I’m impressed, though. You are a positive influence on our director, Miyamori. ”
Aoi could feel her face grow warm. “Thank you, Watanabe-san. But I think the praise equally goes to Honda-san for promptly providing the desserts.”
Watanabe nodded, taking a long drag from his cigarette. Aoi smiled, thinking that she couldn’t have asked for a better line producer to work with — he was punctual, organized and persistent. Jun Watanabe could be firm if the situation required it, but also kind and compassionate at the same time. And without a doubt, he loved anime about as much as she did. A sudden idea came to Aoi’s mind.
“Watanabe-san, did you have a favourite anime when you were young?”
“That’s an odd question to ask,” he said. “What brought this on?”
“I was just thinking about the shows we produce,” she explained. “There are kids out there who probably have one of Musani’s current shows as their favourite ones. Some of them might be inspired to work in anime production when they grow up. Andes Chucky was an anime like that for me. I wondered if there was a show that inspired you when you were younger.”
That might’ve been a bit too personal. Aoi could almost feel the pause hanging in the cool evening air. When she was about to dismiss her question, Watanabe finally responded.
“Bon Bon by Studio Pero.”
“The Victorian melodrama?”
Aoi gasped when she realized that she’d said it out loud. The corner of his mouth moved up, forming a lopsided smile.
“Were you expecting a cooler title like Space Exodus Idepon or the Horoscope Knights?”
“No, no, nothing like that,” she said quickly. “I liked Bon Bon too. I just didn’t expect that you would like it.”
“I was fascinated by Bonnie’s story,” Watanabe said. “How she went from an orphan to a maid for her wealthy cousins to living in a boarding school in London to then studying to be a nurse. I found her story so inspiring I wanted there to be more stories like that in the world. I tried to write my own stories. I even entered the Up Shonen’s youth contest three years in a row. I’ve never won though…”
He paused, letting out a cloud of smoke. “But I was good at organizing and supporting my creative friends. By the time I started college I knew that I could bring more stories in the world, not as a creator, but as a producer.”
“That is a wonderful story, Watanabe-san. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
The buzzing of her cellphone didn’t let the silence settle between them. Aoi fished her phone out of her jacket pocket and read the message on the screen.
“It’s Segawa-san,” she said, putting her phone away. “The keyframes for Episode 1 of Ghost Maid are ready. I’ll go grab them.”
“Shouldn’t one of your assistants do that?”
“It’s getting late and I am the best driver at the studio,” Aoi replied. She also really wanted to get the frames personally — she missed being a production assistant. “I’ll be quick.”
“Drive safely,” Watanabe said, as Aoi waved him goodbye and headed toward the stairs. His next words did make her stop in her tracks. She felt blood rush to her face. “I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my Ace.”