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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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Chapter 42: N-Nice to meet you…?
“M-Minor…? You’re a minor…?”
Mitami stammered, unable to close her gaping mouth—so Utahara did it for her, gently pressing her lips shut.
“I’ve reviewed the document. I did think you looked young… but I didn’t expect you to be a middle schooler.”
The paperwork Junhyuk had submitted included Matsuda’s signature and his date of birth.
Sure, he looked young—but his whole vibe didn’t exactly scream kid.
Most people would’ve guessed college freshman at worst—high schooler, maybe.
Surprising? Sure. But not inconceivable.
Utahara himself had started working in the anime industry back in middle school.
That personal experience helped him keep his cool as he cleared his throat to break the awkward silence.
“All necessary paperwork for the contract has been received. One of our staff will bring copies shortly.”
“Thank you.”
“Now, about the actual work—we plan to begin project planning and coordination next week. How’s your schedule looking, Enju-sensei?”
“As long as it’s later in the afternoon, I’m free. But before that, there’s something I’d like to show you.”
Junhyuk pulled a USB stick from his bag and placed it on the meeting room table.
“Before we dive into planning, I put together something—not quite a guideline, but more of a rough demo.”
Mitami glanced at the USB, then made eye contact with Utahara.
With a nod from him, she plugged it into his laptop.
Inside was a single video file titled: "Monogatari"
“This is…”
Utahara murmured as he stared at the laptop screen.
The clip wasn’t long—just barely three minutes.
Panels from Monogatari flashed across the screen, dynamically edited in various styles and transitions, flowing rapidly in a fast-cut montage.
As soon as the video ended, Utahara—who had watched it with intense focus—turned sharply toward Junhyuk.
“I’ve seen a similar format before. When the D Note leak happened, a fan-made video like this went viral online.”
“…Yeah, that’s what inspired me.”
“I see. But this is far better produced than D Note. That one felt like someone just slapped comic panels together.”
Cough—
Junhyuk clutched his chest, as if someone had just written his name in the Death No—, err, 'D Note'.
“This is… fascinating. Really.”
“Sorry—what was that?”
His voice had been so low, Junhyuk couldn’t hear it from where he sat.
Even Mitami, seated beside him, could barely make it out.
“There are definitely areas in the editing and direction that could be polished, but I think it works. Enju-sensei, am I right in assuming you want to add voice acting to this video?”
“Yes, exactly.”
When voiceovers were added to comic-panel videos during the D Note era, it kicked off a brief but intense trend.
Everyone scrambled to mimic it, but most flopped—either from lack of funding or the buzz just dying out.
Plus, unlike manga with endless visuals, drama CDs are adapted from light novels. Which means: no art. Which means: big budget problems.
Utahara hit play again, eyes gleaming.
“I was expecting another cookie-cutter project, but this… this one’s got texture. This is a big catch.”
His voice was low again. Junhyuk didn’t hear—but Mitami, right next to him, definitely did.
Flustered, she laughed loudly—trying to cover it up.
Thankfully, Junhyuk just tilted his head, clearly having missed the comment. Mitami sighed in relief.
But Utahara was already in full creator mode—completely unfiltered.
“The visuals are great, but the sound… not so much. You used a free version from one of those stock sound websites, didn’t you?”
Gasp—
Mitami gawked at him with her mouth wide open. But Utahara’s gaze was locked on Junhyuk.
“Well, that’s what I’m counting on you for, Director.”
Junhyuk said with a casual smile.
Seeing him so unfazed, Utahara cracked a small smile himself.
“The video moves pretty fast. Is that the pacing you’re aiming for?”
“Yes. Given Monogatari’s tone and style, I think rapid-fire dialogue keeps the immersion strong.”
“And the kind of music you’re imagining?”
“I’m guessing it’s probably the same kind you’re imagining, Director.”
Junhyuk and Utahara looked at each other and answered in perfect sync:
"Relaxed and mysterious music."
Utahara let out a low chuckle.
“The voice actors will play a key role, then.”
“The director’s role is even more important.”
When a creator puts that much trust in a director, it’s basically a polite way of saying—“You can pull this off, right? You will make it good, right?”
And this wasn’t just talk—Junhyuk had come fully prepared.
He wasn’t here to ask for help—he was here to build something.
’This kid’s no ordinary amateur.’
Utahara was in his mid-20s now—young, sure. But he’d grown up in this world.
His instincts were sharp.
And Junhyuk? He had that vibe—like he’d already survived a war or two in this business.
Still watching the screen, Utahara finally spoke.
“Just a few things.”
“Please, feel free—anything at all.”
“The narration bits were moved to background text—I think we could expand those a little.”
“Got it. In that case, maybe we could also speed up the screen transitions? That section’s not critical to the plot anyway.”
Junhyuk had moved closer to the monitor without anyone noticing, jotting notes into a small notebook as he replied.
“If it’s any faster, people might not be able to read it.”
Utahara raised an eyebrow. Junhyuk responded with a cheeky grin.
“If someone’s really interested, they’ll pause and watch it over and over.”
This wasn’t “watch once and move on” content.
This was layered—built to be watched, rewatched, dug into.
Even if you skipped the text, the plot flowed. But if you read it? Bonus points. Easter eggs. Hidden treasure.
“…You’re insane.”
The words slipped out of Utahara before he even realized.
Mitami jumped in a panic and clamped a hand over her mouth.
Some might’ve called it rude—but Junhyuk? He’d read enough interviews to know Utahara was infamous for that sharp tongue during creative mode.
He took it as a compliment.
And rightly so.
“This is getting way too fun… what if we just make the entire thing into a drama CD?”
Utahara dropped the bomb like it was nothing.
Normally, drama CDs only covered a scene or two—just enough to promote the original work.
Speed, simplicity, and low budget were the golden rules.
But Utahara had just set fire to that rulebook.
Judging by the pale look on Mitami’s face, this was a solo decision.
Junhyuk, of course, wasn’t dumb enough to turn down that golden goose.
“I accept. And in that case, I have a few suggestions of my own.”
The meeting room was small and plain, but as Junhyuk laid out his ideas, both Mitami and Utahara’s eyes widened in disbelief.
Once he finished, Utahara just laughed—deep, amazed, a little bit wild.
“When did you start planning all this?”
“Probably… since the moment the drama CD offer came in.”
Utahara laughed again—loud and satisfied—and closed his laptop.
“Guess we’ll need to rewrite that contract.”
“Sounds good to me.”
In that modest, unassuming room… a hit of 2009 was quietly born.
＊ ＊ ＊
After Enju left the room—
Only Mitami and Utahara remained. Both let out long, exhausted sighs.
It felt like a storm had just blown through.
“That kid’s something else… on so many levels.”
Utahara muttered.
Mitami nodded.
“Right? What are we even supposed to do now? I’m the one who pitched this whole project, but…”
She gulped hard.
“Enju-sensei is incredible, isn’t he?! I’ve never seen anyone hold their own like that with you, Director! I was a little worried because of how young he is, but that worry? Totally gone now! Ahh—why didn’t I ask for his autograph?!”
Normally, when Mitami started fangirling like this, Utahara would’ve been the one to throw cold water on her.
But this time?
He didn’t disagree.
“Feels like it’s been ages since I got to work on something good.”
Utahara smiled—genuinely.
And seeing that made Mitami smile too.
He’d been worn down lately. Projects he didn’t care about. Working to keep the company afloat. Running on empty.
But now?
Now he was awake.
“Feels like this one’s going to be something special.”
And it would be. No doubt about that.
Later, Mitami would sometimes wonder—
If she’d just stepped in… maybe hit the brakes a little…
Would the project have turned out a little less brilliant—and a whole lot less chaotic?
She’d never admit it aloud.
But a part of her always wondered.
＊ ＊ ＊
A week later.
Enju (Jung Junhyuk) returned to Avid Works, and he and Utahara dove straight into production.
They moved through the planning phase quickly, but it wasn’t just that—their working chemistry was remarkably in sync too.
⋯⋯⋯
“Here, let’s keep this line the same—but speed up the pacing a bit.”
“Got it. I’ll add an extra cut there. One more close-up—how’s that?”
⋯⋯⋯
Quick ideas. Quick execution.
⋯⋯⋯
“Since this is a video, why not make this part move more?”
“Like animation?”
“Yeah. Even if it’s crude animation, a little motion will make it pop visually, compared to a static panel.”
“Sure, I’ll try it.”
⋯⋯⋯
Both Enju’s drawing pace and Utahara’s storyboard speed—honed from years of real-world work since middle school—showed no mercy. Under their synchronized rhythm, the once-static demo transformed into something dynamic, colorful, alive.
⋯⋯⋯
“If we release this as a drama CD, the industry’s gonna roast us—”
“Seriously… it’s completely nuts.”
“But it was the Director who made it, right?”
“No—not me. Enju-sensei.”
Mitami looked puzzled.
Utahara continued—
“He gets what this video needs, deeply. It’s not just that he draws well—or writes well. He really gets it.”
Then he stood and walked out.
By the time Enju and Mitami caught up, the temporary final cut was already complete.
⋯⋯⋯
“This... you did this in only one week?”
Scriptwriting alone takes three. Two if you’re sprinting. But this had new art. Animated panels. Coordinated audio.
One. Week.
“It’s a monstrous pace.”
⋯⋯⋯
“Enju-sensei! We’ve already finalized the voice actors.”
“Already?”
“When we asked for recommendations, you only said: ‘choose someone skilled.’”
Junhyuk blushed, sheepish. Yep. That’s exactly what he’d said.
A name popped into his mind—but he shook his head.
“No point bringing it up now. We’re already set.”
They left it behind.
Junhyuk stood.
“Since this has a lot of dialogue, let’s schedule separate rehearsal and main recording sessions.”
Mitami led them to the studio.
With voice acting so critical, both Junhyuk and Utahara needed to be there.
Junhyuk, who usually avoided all public appearances, showed up with a mask and a cap—fully undercover.
Then—
“Nice to meet you all! I’m Hasegawa Kanna!”
“…Huh?”
He hadn’t expected to recognize someone here.
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HELIO SCANS
[Translator - Hestia]
[Proofreader - Kaya]
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