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Inside the luxury hotel where he was staying, Haruto looked at the formal invitation sent by the organizing committee.
Nominee: Best Animated Film.
Nominee: Best TV Animation.
Of course, anime is a medium born from the effort of a massive team. For the nomination, it was not just Haruto, the screenwriter, who had to attend; the director, the lead producers, and other key staff members would also be present. For the To the Moon film nomination, Haru-Yuki Animation had also dispatched two or three representatives. If the work truly claimed the final prize, they would all walk onto the stage together with Haruto to accept the honor.
"I understand. I will see you all tomorrow then."
Haruto hung up after speaking with his own studio members and the staff from the production committee.
He let himself fall backward, collapsing onto the soft mattress. He had been in Fukushima for two weeks now, and the exhaustion was starting to set in.
However, only one day remained.
Once he made it through the final two award ceremonies tomorrow night, he could finally return to his life in Tokyo.
Earlier that day, committee staff had come to the hotel to record a short promotional video of him. By the following day, both the award organizers and the national broadcasters at Tokyo TV 1 had shifted every ounce of their marketing weight onto two names.
The Warrior of Love and Shiori Takahashi.
Shiori Takahashi's reputation needed no further explanation. After sweeping the Gold Awards at the Naoki and Ryugin ceremonies over the past two weeks, his name was known in every household with an interest in ACG culture.
A nineteen-year-old college student who had secured Best of the Year Awards in both the manga and light novel industries was unheard of. One could argue that Haruto's real life was far more dramatic than the plot of any light novel.
Tonight, this young man would continue his campaign by vying for the highest honor in the world of animated films.
If the prize actually went to Shiori Takahashi, he would become the first creator in history to win Best of the Year in three major fields, animation, novels, and manga, all within the same calendar year. It was a milestone that would be etched into the history books forever.
On the other side of the fence… While the winners had not been announced, everyone in the industry knew that the Gold Award for Best Anime was almost certainly going to Puella Magi Madoka Magica. For that category, the suspense was not about who would win Gold; it was about who would be stuck with the Silver.
But the most anticipated event of the entire gala was the unmasking of the Warrior of Love. People were dying to know who he really was. It was unthinkable for the creator of a show watched by tens of millions to skip the ceremony or send a proxy to accept the award. That would be a massive insult to the committee. In fact, both the organizers and Tokyo TV 1 were banking on the unmasking to be the ratings nuclear bomb of the night.
"The reveal of the mastermind behind Madoka Magica. Tonight."
The various Warrior of Love fan groups across Japan had been in a state of high tension since dawn. Animation forums were flooded with threads debating his true identity.
"I have waited a year for this. A whole year! Sensei, I just want to see what you look like."
"The way the committee is teasing the reveal is interesting. They said his identity will set the industry on fire. That implies he is someone we already know, right? Otherwise, why would we care?"
"Exactly. I do not believe Madoka Magica was written by a complete rookie. He must have deep roots in the industry. And if he were an unknown writer, there would be no reason to hide. He has to be a famous veteran. My bet is on one of those legendary scriptwriters who went quiet a few years ago."
"Please, no. Those guys are in their fifties. If the Warrior of Love turns out to be one of them, I am going to cry. They are so... middle-aged and greasy."
"Right? They are all middle-aged guys who have let themselves go. If Sensei is one of them, how are we supposed to fight the Shiori Takahashi fans? We would lose on aesthetics alone!"
"Wait, aren't we supposed to be comparing the quality of their work? Why are we talking about looks?"
"Because their influence is neck-and-neck! Madoka is a singular masterpiece, but Takahashi has the volume, Blue Spring Tide, Anohana, To the Moon, Sword Art Online, Initial D. He is a hit factory. Their popularity is nearly identical now. But if the Warrior of Love is a greasy old man, half his female fanbase is going to defect to the Takahashi camp out of disappointment."
"Can't the ACG industry just be about the art? Why did it turn into an idol culture?"
"Because Shiori is objectively handsome! In a room full of shut-in creators, he is a breath of fresh air. His looks give him a massive popularity boost, and he actually has the talent to back it up."
"I do not care who he is. I will be his fan forever. I have already secured a ticket to the gala to cheer him on in person."
"There are 7,000 seats sold online for tonight. I bet forty percent went to Warrior of Love fans and forty percent to Takahashi fans. Even though one is for movies and one is for TV anime, the war has already begun."
"Whoever does not win Gold tonight is going to be embarrassed."
"Madoka is a 99.9% lock for the best anime. The real fight is To the Moon versus Winter Rage. If To the Moon only gets Silver... well, at least for tonight, the Takahashi fans are going to be completely drowned out by the Warrior of Love fans."
"I do not get why their fans are so competitive. There are plenty of famous people in this industry."
"It is because they both hit it big in the same year. One became a god in anime, the other dominated novels and manga. Last year was basically the Year of the Duo. It was impossible not to compare them."
At 8:00 PM, a striking contrast formed outside the venue. Two long queues of fans snaked toward the entrances. One line was dominated by cosplayers from Madoka Magica.
The other line featured a fearless army of Asunas, some in their red and white knight gear, others in casual outfits from the novel. There were also dozens of men dressed as Kirito in his black leather. Just by looking at the lines, you could tell exactly which fan belonged to which creator. The seating inside the hall was even more polarized. In the center of the auditorium, the left side and a portion of the middle were occupied by the Warrior of Love's organized fan clubs. The right side and the remaining middle were the strongholds of Shiori Takahashi's supporters.
If you wondered how they coordinated this, it was the direct result of weeks of online planning and strategic ticket-buying by the fanbases. Of course, there were a few unlucky newbies who had not checked the forums before buying. A few girls cosplaying as Asuna found themselves isolated in the middle of a sea of Madokas, while a few Homura cosplayers were surrounded by people holding Initial D banners. They looked incredibly uncomfortable, but they braced themselves to cheer for their favorites anyway.
Haruto had already arrived at the committee's dressing room.
Tonight, Haruto wore a light blue formal suit, and his hair had been styled by a professional. He stared at himself in the mirror for a long time. He felt like he looked like a playboy character from a soap opera, and he was not entirely sure he liked it.
A moment later, the door on the other side of the room opened.
Yukino stepped in, wearing an elegant white gown. Her collarbone was exposed, and her long, straight legs were accentuated by black stockings beneath the white fabric. With her makeup done, she looked captivatingly beautiful. She stood by the mirror and gave a light twirl, her skirt fluttering gracefully.
Haruto was momentarily speechless.
"Do I look okay?" Yukino asked, a mischievous smile playing on her lips as she caught his expression.
"You look beautiful," Haruto said sincerely.
"And me? What do you think of this look?" Haruto asked, seeking her opinion.
Yukino studied him for a long moment, her chin in her hand.
"If you put on a pair of gold-rimmed glasses, you would look like a textbook scoundrel."
"Wait, you think so too?" Haruto sighed. "I knew it. That stylist did not know what they were doing. I am not built for this kind of fringe."