After the Chapter of Initial D dropped, discussions exploded online. The race had fans fired up—forums lit up with frame-by-frame breakdowns, racing theory debates, and wild praise for Takumi's comeback.
Amid all the online chatter, Haruki stayed focused.
He read the comments fans raving about the showdown, quoting favorite lines, even joking about Shingo's fate. It was energizing, sure, but he kept his head down.
What mattered now were the two projects nearing release: 5 Centimeters per Second and Voices of a Distant Star.
At Kazuya's suggestion, Haruki updated their official channels with teaser images and short blurbs to promote the upcoming premieres. Behind the scenes, they had arranged light interviews and blog posts to raise awareness, even pulling in a few industry contacts to quietly praise the visual quality of the work.
Their marketing budget was tight. There were no massive ad buys or video platform sponsorships. So they relied instead on precision targeted posts, word-of-mouth in animation circles, and carefully timed reveals.
Despite the noise online, Haruki didn't let it distract him. The final animation check for Voices of a Distant Star was nearly complete. Once that wrapped, his part would be done.
He leaned back from his desk. For the first time in weeks, the pressure started to ease.
Kazuya stepped into the room, holding a tablet. "Initial D's cliffhanger stirred things up," he said, half-smirking. "You sure you want to wait a week to resolve that?"
Haruki shrugged. "That's the plan. I'd rather the story breathe a little. We're not racing to the end."
Kazuya nodded. "Alright. Then focus on the promos. I've lined up a few interviews Mostly low-pressure pieces where you can talk about themes and direction."
Haruki glanced at the calendar. The launch was just days away now.
And with that, they turned their attention to the next step.
---
The next day, Haruki appeared on another online variety show, this time with Kazuya sitting beside him.
"Mr. Mizushiro," the host began, "your two upcoming films 5 Centimeters per Second and Voices of a Distant Star have been getting a lot of attention lately. They're both releasing in early January. How are you feeling heading into launch?"
Haruki gave a thoughtful nod. "Honestly… a little nervous. These aren't action-heavy stories. They're quiet, personal. We just hope the people watching can feel something real in them."
"And you, Mr. Mori?" the host turned to Kazuya.
"I'm with Mizushiro," he said plainly.
"What if the results don't match expectations?" the host prodded.
Kazuya's face grew serious. "These two films are the sum of year of hard work. If they flop... maybe that means I've fallen behind. I might even consider stepping back, making space for the next generation."
The studio went quiet. The words hung in the air, dramatic and heavy.
Haruki stared at him. For a moment, he was genuinely moved.
He hadn't expected Kazuya to take this so personally.
...
Walking out of the studio afterward, Haruki couldn't help but say, "That bit about leaving the industry if it flops… Was that really necessary?"
Kazuya shot him a look. "You believed that?"
Haruki blinked.
"I'm in my thirties," Kazuya scoffed. "I'm not quitting anything. That's just TV talk. You toss in a bit of pathos and drama, the audience eats it up. If things go south, I'll just pivot the narrative 'for the sake of the industry, I've decided to keep fighting,' something like that. It's all routine."
Haruki didn't reply. He just nodded slowly, then muttered under his breath, "So much for sincerity..."
He wiped away the sentimental aftertaste and moved on.
...
By the third appearance that week, Haruki had gotten used to the act. He started mirroring Kazuya's media presence—cool, confident, a little performative when needed.
They didn't have money for big promos, so Kazuya tried every trick in the book: interviews, sneak peeks, editorials, even nostalgic blog posts. By the end of December, fans might not know what 5 Centimeters per Second or Voices of a Distant Star were about but they'd at least heard the names.
Still, inside the industry, the mood was cautious. Sure, Kazuya had succeeded in getting attention, but in this season, several high-budget shows were set to debut. Quality, not promotion, would decide the outcome.
If Haruki and Kazuya wanted a shot at standing out, their work needed to be extraordinary.
It had been six months since they'd agreed to produce the two films. Looking back, they both wished they'd had more time and a bigger budget but given what they did have, they'd pushed themselves to the limit.
Kazuya worried over the 2.5 million view goal.
Haruki fixated on whether they'd be able to win the season's top spot and unlock the next system reward.
With both their minds occupied, time passed quickly.
And then Chapter of Initial D dropped.
Fans across the country had waited a full week. Now, finally, the continuation of the Takumi vs. Shingo race was here.
The opening panel showed Takumi's intense expression, darker than usual. His foot slammed on the accelerator. The speedometer climbed past 100 km/h.
Of course, the manga didn't show the numbers—just a kinetic burst of speed drawn in thick, dramatic lines.
Takumi was no longer driving with the smooth, controlled precision he was known for the kind of technique that once let him complete an entire mountain pass without spilling a drop from the water cup in his car.
Now, his driving was aggressive and reckless. To get past the red EG6 ahead of him, he took risks, drifting hard around corners and pushing the car to its limits. At one point, his car was barely on the road half of it skimming the shoulder of the mountain pass.
He wasn't just driving—he was racing.
And not just to win.
To crush Shingo.
Fans reading the chapter were fired up. This was what they'd been waiting for.
Shingo, sensing the pressure from behind, pushed his EG6 even harder. He was used to dirty tricks like taping people's car during races but now, facing Takumi, he was the one being hunted.
The lead he thought he had was vanishing.
Then came the legendary section Akina's five consecutive hairpin turns.
Every fan knew: this stretch always decided the winner.
Takumi dove into the inside lane, clearly planning a drainage ditch run. Shingo, thinking back to how he'd sideswiped Takumi in the past, misread the move. Paranoid Takumi was aiming for revenge, he backed off the inside line
And just like that, it was over.
Takumi flew through the inside, perfectly timed.
He exited the turn cleanly, finally gaining the lead.
Victory.
Readers exhaled in relief.
Takumi had won.
But something still felt unresolved.
What about Takeuchi's injury? Was beating Shingo enough?
Then... the story took another turn.
Shingo, unable to accept defeat, tried to ram Takumi off the road.
Seriously?
Fans were livid. What kind of sore loser does that?
But Takumi, already anticipating it, launched into a sideways drift and evaded the hit. Shingo's EG6 lost control and slammed into a barrier.
Poetic justice.
The fans loved it.
Shingo's car was damaged, his fuel tank ruptured. Though he avoided a crash, the vehicle was done.
He climbed out, defeated, humiliated—not just by the loss, but by his own desperation.
And Takumi?
He just crossed the finish line.
Behind him, Ikeya pulled over to check on Shingo—because unlike Shingo, Ikeya still had a shred of decency. The contrast hit hard. Readers found themselves respecting Ikeya more than ever.
As for Shingo... well, the verdict online was unanimous:
"He deserved it."
With this chapter, Initial D closed out one of its biggest arcs.
Readers flooded Mizushiro's social media with reactions.
"Legendary chapter."
"Still buzzing from that race."
And more than a few added:
"Next week, we're watching 5 Centimeters per Second and Voices of a Distant Star."
(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 60+ advanced chapters)