Tokyo 1970: I'll draw Doraemon?

Embarrassed, she didn't call him by his given name, but by his surname, and like a fawn, she disappeared into the night without a trace.

Asano Megumi, who had come here, happened to see this scene. Her eyes widened, and she quickly walked up to Fushimi Kawa, nudged his chest, and found that he did not react at all.

She could only ask in a tearful voice.

"What is she doing? What is she doing? Hmm?"

Taking out a handkerchief, Asano Megumi wiped the spot where Fujiwara Maki had kissed her, but felt that she couldn't get it clean no matter what she did.

"What's going on?! Huh? Huh?"

I haven't even kissed him yet.

Chapter Sixty-Four: Nobita and the Iron Legion

A few days later, Fujiwara Maki handed over the position of president of the manga club to Kurokawa Hideki, a third-year student.

She focused all her energy on the comic book magazine business.

Fushimikawa received the data notification from Takei Toshiki.

"Last year, the circulation of Weekly Shonen Sunday was 65 copies, and preliminary analysis this year shows that the number has risen to 76 copies. Instead of continuing to decline, it has started to rise. Although it is less than the 90 to 95 copies of Weekly Shonen Jump, and even less than the 140 million to 150 million copies of Weekly Shonen Magazine, it has already allowed Shizuo Watanabe to prove his ability."

Takei Toshiki read the data meticulously, but his last sentence sounded somewhat reluctant.

He then added, "Clearly, all the credit belongs to you, Mr. Oikawa!"

The only difference between Weekly Shonen Sunday in 1970 and 1971 was the blockbuster manga Doraemon.

It played a pivotal role, much like "Star of Giants" and "Ashita no Joe," elevating its affiliated magazine to new heights.

However, Sunday did not give its creator, Ji Oikawa, the treatment he deserved.

Every time Takei Toshiki finally managed to persuade Watanabe Shizuo, the plan would be affected by Yamashita and ultimately come to nothing.

This made Takei Toshiki increasingly uncomfortable, even to the point of anger.

Watanabe Shizuo is blind and neglects Oikawa Ji; he might as well give up on Shogakukan!

He wanted to shout that in a fit of anger.

“It’s alright, Takei-san,” Fushimi shook his head dismissively. “It’s just a few hundred thousand in contract fees. It’s not much of a benefit, but rather a constraint.”

He only signed a serialization contract for "Doraemon". Once "Doraemon" is finished, he can leave Shogakukan without any obstacles and doesn't even have to pay a penalty for breach of contract. Isn't that a great thing?

"Restrictions?" Takei Toshiki was taken aback, and a bad feeling arose in his heart.

"Oikawa, could it be that you?!"

Fushimikawa interrupted him and took out a page of story outline.

"I often think, how can a shonen manga not depict grand scenes? What's the point of always being heartwarming? There has to be epic battles too, so I came up with this story, please take a look."

Takei Toshiki didn't press further. After looking at the outline, he got a general understanding of the story.

"The content is about racial aggression and resistance. The design of the new character Lilulu is also good. As long as it is drawn to a high standard, I think it will be successful."

After muttering to himself, he rubbed his hands together excitedly: "Let's go all out and make Doraemon loved by even more people!"

At that point, Watanabe Shizuo would have no rebuttal.

Pressure from other magazines would force him to apologize to Oikawa and give him the treatment he deserved.

Fushimikawa nodded, but his thoughts were different.

With "Nobita and the Iron Man Corps" as his final work to bid farewell to "Sunday", it should leave a lasting impression, right?

Call ~

A year has passed, and it's time to try saying goodbye.

Whether Sunday can withstand a massive loss of readers like Jump did after Dragon Ball ended is none of his business.

……

Over the next week, Fushimikawa refined the story, drew the storyboards, and went to Fujiko Studio with Takei.

Fujiko Fujio really liked "Nobita and the Steel Troops" and watched it over and over again.

"Aggression and war, ideals and justice, the brilliance of humanism—this story has it all. Hmm…" He pondered for a moment, "Then I'll draw it."

He offered some simple suggestions to make the story flow better, and the three of them talked for a long time until there were no more minor issues with the story.

"That's enough to draw the original manuscript."

Ultimately, Fujiko Fujio made the decision.

"This story will shock the entire comic book industry."

After the two left, Fujiko Fujio composed himself.

He thought of Fushimikawa's appearance, and his heart was filled with mixed feelings.

"Even though nothing has changed, he's gotten better and better at drawing. It's only been a year, and a newcomer has made such a big difference."

"We older generation artists are drawing the same old works, with absolutely no ideas for new concepts or innovations in comics."

"Thinking about it, it's really depressing. I seem to have gotten old."

A year ago, Fushimikawa came here with "Mothers" and "Ikkyu the Clever". A year later, he has completed "Confessions" with a new style, as well as masterpieces such as "Nobita and the Iron Army".

The progress was so rapid that it was almost unbelievable and disheartening for Fujiko Fujio.

“But no matter what,” he rallied, “Fushimi-kun will always be my fan, because I love manga, and that’s enough.”

"I can't be like Tezuka-sensei, being too stingy is not good."

……

"Ah~ Achoo!"

At Tezuka's house, Osamu Tezuka sneezed again.

He rubbed his nose and muttered, "Who's talking about me?"

There are too many people who talk about him: viewers, readers, and employees who left the company.

For example, that guy Yoshiyuki Tomino.

"I know they say the system is rigid and needs reform, but..."

He can't do it.

In fact, the Bug Animation Company was a product of his experiments.

Osamu Tezuka often acted on impulse, rushing to make animations without planning or market research, which often resulted in setbacks and significant financial losses.

Yoshiyuki Tomino gradually despaired and began to have reservations about Osamu Tezuka.

"The appointed time is approaching. Oikawa-kun should be at the door soon. He's always very punctual," Tezuka Etsuko said.

“Hmm,” Osamu Tezuka nodded, “I wonder what he’s doing here again.”

In imitation of Bambi fan art, he drew many anthropomorphic mouse illustrations, which are now hidden in his studio, a place only he frequents, so they are unlikely to be exposed.

He calmed down.

"Then I'll take Xiaozhen away. He'll be disturbing you in the living room."

“It’s alright,” Osamu Tezuka shook his head, knowing that the other party already knew about his sexual fetish. “We don’t need to be so polite between us.”

"Then I'll go greet him."

"Thank you for your help."

……

Five minutes later, Fushimikawa arrived at the Tezuka family's living room.

He glanced at it and saw that "Ultraman Jack"—no, it should be "Ultraman Returns"—was airing, specifically the episode "Ultraman Seven Appears!"

This is the origin of the famous "Thank you, Taro" scene.

Intrigued, he didn't greet Osamu Tezuka, but instead sat cross-legged and started watching Ultraman.

"You also like Eiji Tsuburaya's tokusatsu dramas?" Osamu Tezuka said with a smile, stroking his son's head. "Shin doesn't like watching my 'Mega Ambassador,' but he's a big fan of Ultraman. You two have similar interests."

Chapter 65 Tomino Yuki... Tomino Yoshiyuki

"Lava Ambassador" was Japan's first color tokusatsu drama, and its average viewership rating of around 25% was already quite outstanding.

However, the most famous Ultraman series aired a week later, with the cosmic superhero coming to Earth, inevitably overshadowing "Ambassador of Lava".

"Kiman is really interesting," Fushimikawa remarked, watching the television. "Maybe one of the children who watched him grow up will stand up and save the Japanese animation market in the future."

“It must be a kid who watched Astro Boy,” Osamu Tezuka retorted.

He did not believe that Japanese animation would get better and better. In fact, Osamu Tezuka was a very worried person.

In 1960, in order to get his animated films on television, he only charged 55 yen per episode for the rights, which was not even enough to cover the production costs. He could only make ends meet by selling toys and licensing his products to snack manufacturers.

This distorted relationship, where television stations acquire expensive animated films at low prices, has persisted to this day.

This results in meager incomes for animation professionals.

This was bound to cause problems, but Osamu Tezuka had no other choice.

He could only choose to trust the wisdom of future generations.

"Animation still needs to focus on high-quality productions," Fushimikawa suddenly remarked.

He wants to emulate Hayao Miyazaki, not Osamu Tezuka.

"What are you suddenly rambling about?" Osamu Tezuka glanced at him sideways. "What brings you here today?"

“Speaking of which,” Fushimikawa snapped out of his reverie and sat up straight, “I’m actually working on a long-running Doraemon story that includes a giant robot, which is one of the core elements of the story. It’s similar to Mitsuteru Yokoyama’s Tetsujin 28-go, but more elaborate.”

"But I don't know much about robots. I'd like to ask the teacher if he knows anyone who is good at this field. I'd like to ask him to help me with the robot's appearance design. I need it to be quick and good."

He won't be staying at Sunday for long.

Osamu Tezuka listened with amusement: "There are areas you're not good at too?"

"I am truly ashamed."