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550 – Love-Brained
🕑 Added 2025-09-27 16:21:27 +0000 UTCThe debate over whether Hojou Kyousuke was a “human printing press” or secretly possessed some kind of “Manga Master System” was put on hold.
There were more pressing matters at hand.
Shimomura Tetsuya sat staring at the manga in his hands, brows tightly furrowed, unable to reach a decision.
Whether a manga had depth, whether it conveyed emotions, whether it revealed any profound truths—those were questions to consider only after a work had proven it could survive.
And in deciding if a work was truly good, if it could survive in the cutthroat market, there was only one standard: was it entertaining or not?
Detective Conan.
As expected of Hojou-sensei, the opening was superb.
The bold title, “The Heisei Holmes,” immediately set the stage, and within just a few pages the protagonist’s talent as a detective was showcased brilliantly.
On top of that, the story dropped foreshadowing that promised long-term payoffs, giving the protagonist strong motivations for future actions.
The heroine’s setup was excellent too—gentle and kind at first glance, but in reality a karate expert strong enough to snap a power pole with one punch.
The eccentric scientist, the detective-novelist father, the bumbling cops—every element was there for a hit manga.
If this had been the work of a newcomer, Shimomura wouldn’t have hesitated for a second.
He would have recommended it for the magazine’s Newcomer Award and even promised the win outright.
But that was the problem. This wasn’t the work of some unknown rookie.
It was drawn by the already-famous Hojou Kyousuke, a man with a reputation in both the manga and mystery novel world.
Sure, the early cases were interesting enough.
But any hardcore mystery fan who saw this would immediately question it: “Did Hojou-sensei really draw this? Don’t tell me he sold his pen name?”
Fame brought benefits, but it also came with chains.
Thinking this, Shimomura carefully voiced his concerns.
He even brought up the example of Undying Shuichi, the currently popular detective manga running in their rival magazine Shounen Magic.
“Even a manga that sticks strictly to classic mystery writing—if the cases are even a little too simple, the author gets flooded with angry letters.
Oogawa-sensei has already thought about canceling more than once, but since the sales are strong, the editors convinced him to keep going. That’s actually why I approached you, Hojou.
I knew readers were hungry for mystery stories, and you specialize in that field. So I asked if you’d consider drawing one.”
Shimomura’s voice was steady.
This was an editor’s job, after all—reading the market winds better than anyone.
But he wasn’t the only one who could see the trend.
He pulled out a thick stack of documents from the pile on the table and pushed them across.
Kyousuke glanced through them.
They were all mystery manga—every single one had been axed.
They were attempts by Weekly Shounen High over the past few years.
‘So there’s already this many casualties. No wonder Shimomura’s cautious.’Kyousuke finally understood.
“Your manga is great in every way,” Shimomura said, “except… it doesn’t really feel like a mystery manga.”
‘Thanks for pointing that out. Like I didn’t already know?’
‘You think I’m treating it like a mystery manga myself?’
Kyousuke grumbled inwardly, but outwardly he only smiled.
After hearing Shimomura’s concerns, he actually felt completely at ease.
A dead end for mystery manga? Good thing Detective Conan was never really about the mystery.
Having witnessed the franchise’s two-decade reign of popularity and its insane profits in his previous life, Kyousuke knew exactly who the audience really was.
Aside from the old fans clinging to nostalgia, it was mostly love-brained shippers, little kids, anime otaku, hardcore fans, and people just waiting for loose ends to get tied up.
Hardly anyone was in it for the “difficult cases.”
Back in his past life, he’d even had a friend who worked at a children’s publisher.
Their bread and butter? Ultraman and Detective Conan, rewritten as simplified kids’ books.
In an era where print was dying, the company survived off those alone—and lived quite comfortably too.
Then there were the massive crowds who turned up for every yearly Conan movie.
Tell them about Sherlock Holmes, and they’d swear he was a real British detective.
Why did they watch Conan? Because their favorite husbandos were in it.
Whether it was the shrunken yet gallant Shinichi, or cool characters like Akai Shuichi, Amuro Tooru, or Kaito Kid, there was always a handsome guy to swoon over.
Logic be damned.
And after the love-brained crowd, came the shippers.
ShinRan vs. ShinShi? Kogorou and Eri? Heiji and Kazuha? Kaito and Aoko? Kaito and Akako? Even minor side characters like Takagi & Sato had dedicated fans.
Didn’t like those? No problem—someone out there was writing Ran x Shiho.
Every new movie might not have had a brilliant plot, but Shinichi and Ran’s romance kept hearts hooked.
Girls might not line up to watch The Devotion of Suspect X, but they’d definitely drag their boyfriends to see the “epic love” of Shinichi and Ran.
The more Kyousuke thought about it, the clearer it became.
Mystery purists were irrelevant.
Well—okay, not entirely.
Some were busy accusing Conan of plagiarizing certain cases, but their voices were quickly drowned out in the sea of mainstream fans.
With that realization, Kyousuke’s last worries melted away.
If standard mystery manga were all doomed, then his romance-sci-fi-action-mystery hybrid would have no problem thriving.
“Shimomura,” he said with a smile, “what if we didn’t treat this as a mystery manga? Would you say it could succeed then?”
“Not treat it as mystery?” Shimomura froze. ‘But isn’t it a mystery manga? If not that, then what?’
“Just look at it as a regular story manga,” Kyousuke suggested casually. “Or better yet—as a romance manga.”
“Romance manga?” Shimomura’s voice rose with excitement. Wasn’t this exactly what he’d always wanted from Kyousuke? A self-inserted love story—guaranteed success.
“Mm. Try reading it from that angle. You might discover a whole new world.”
Hearing that, Shimomura fell silent. He reorganized his thoughts and lowered his head back to the manuscript.
After all these years, he knew one thing well: Hojou Kyousuke wasn’t just some high schooler or some shut-in artist buried in his drafts.
He was a man whose intelligence and emotional sharpness were both off the charts.
This wasn’t someone you could ever treat as “ordinary.”
The first time he’d welcomed Hojou Kyousuke into his home, the young man’s calm maturity had already left a deep impression.
Later, whether it was participating in anime production, negotiating higher royalties, or maneuvering to retain animation rights—every step had been executed with a level of shrewdness far beyond his years.
Beneath that youthful face was the heart of a seasoned, street-hardened adult.
‘Romance manga, huh…’
With that thought, Shimomura Tetsuya refocused on the manuscript in his hands.
Wait—something felt off.
Very off.
Hold on… is this really the same manga I was reading earlier?
The more he read, the wider his eyes grew.
Just as Hojou Kyousuke had said, it was like stepping through the gates to an entirely new world.
A childhood-friend setup? Nothing unusual there—romance novels have used it for generations.
The real problem is that it’s been done to death.
But… have you ever seen one where the childhood friend is a high schooler and the other is trapped in the body of a grade-schooler?
Even after shrinking, he still stays by her side to protect her.
And just when he finally realizes how important she is to him, fear for her safety keeps him from ever confessing his feelings.
So close, yet so far—forced to pour his heart into unanswered phone calls, while the girl’s tender, sensitive emotions can’t be voiced to the boy she truly loves… only whispered to the oblivious “child” before her.
Watching Ran Mouri confide in Conan—hugging her knees on the bed, tears slipping down her cheeks—didn’t just make Conan ache to shout I’m Shinichi Kudo!
It made readers curl their toes until their shoes nearly tore apart, desperate to storm the author’s house and demand he let the kid skip grades straight into high school already.
That bittersweet “so near, yet so far” ache… it scratched an itch readers didn’t even know they had.
Though Kyousuke had only submitted the opening chapters, he’d included outlines and scattered sketches of what was to come.
One illustration stood out:
Moonlight spilled through the window.
On a gray-blue bed, Ran sat against the wall in her pajamas, hugging her knees, murmuring, “Shinichi, where are you?”
The pale glow lit her face, making her look heartbreakingly fragile.
Just outside the door stood the pint-sized “big-headed” detective, pillow tucked under his arm.
He’d planned to play the spoiled brat—claiming he couldn’t sleep so she’d let him crawl into bed beside her—but the moment he reached the door, he heard her crying.
A single door between them, two hearts on opposite sides… and only the readers truly understood their pain.
Even Shimomura Tetsuya, a man old enough to have a son in high school, felt his chest tighten.
‘Wait a second… could this really be a romance manga?’
Then again, wasn’t The Devotion of Suspect X—Hojou’s most famous novel—driven by love at its core? Strip away that suffocating, tragic romance, and would the story have touched so many?
‘Hissss… don’t tell me that was a romance novel too?’
And come to think of it, Attack on Titan—Mikasa and Eren, Levi and Eren, Eren and… well, others.
Following that logic, even One Punch Man—eh, okay, maybe not the best example…
But once the thought struck, the world around Shimomura lit up like dawn breaking.
Yes—romance was the eternal theme of humanity!
Fight wars and fall in love.
Go to court and fall in love.
Conquer the world and fall in love.
Invent things, travel to other worlds—whatever you do, life is all about falling in love!
“Hojou-sensei… you’re a genius!”
His eyes shone with reverence as he looked up.
“Not at all. Shimomura-san’s guidance has been invaluable,” Kyousuke replied modestly.
“If we stop trying to force it into the ‘mystery’ box, this manga is outstanding. Absolutely outstanding!”
Shimomura’s voice brimmed with excitement.
Yes, mystery novels held an untouchable place in Japanese literature—but this was a shounen magazine!
What did teenagers care about most?
Aside from fighting… it was love, love, love.
The audience for that dwarfed any niche group of puzzle-solving purists.
Every genre had its target.
Plenty of series were accused of pandering to otaku, but that was just because their demographic was too obvious.
Shimomura had originally approached Conan with the eyes of a mystery fan, but once he shifted his perspective—suddenly the horizon was vast and full of promise.
“In that case, our promotional strategy needs a little adjustment. Before, I was planning to spotlight the ‘Heisei Holmes’ angle. But now…”
The editor-in-chief’s face glowed with fervor as he already began drafting new campaign plans in his head.
Kyousuke watched him with a warm smile.
‘That’s better. Forget the worries. Just focus on making my work explode in popularity and filling my pockets.’
The two of them went on to discuss the future plot.
Mostly, Kyousuke spoke while Shimomura listened, and the more he listened, the more fired up the older man became.
This wasn’t just a series—it was a pillar that could support the entire magazine for years to come!
Then, mid-burst of enthusiasm, Shimomura paused.
Wait a second… why did it feel like Hojou-sensei had already drawn the later arcs? The way he described them was so vivid, it was as if the pages were right there.
“Hojou-sensei… you’ve drawn more than this, haven’t you?” he demanded, slapping the manuscript on the table.
“You saw the timestamp yourself. How much do you think I can draw in a single morning?” Kyousuke shot back, feigning irritation.
“Oh. Right…” Shimomura blinked, then chuckled. Perhaps this is just what genius looks like. Just as Hojou had once said in an interview—he simply saw another world.
They talked a little longer before Shimomura hesitated, lowering his voice.
“But this could hurt your reputation, Hojou. Readers are expecting a mystery manga from a mystery novelist. To find romance under the guise of deduction… some will take it as an insult.”
“Will it hurt sales?” Kyousuke asked flatly.
“Well… no. If anything, sales might improve.”
Shimomura’s lips curled into an irrepressible grin. Black PR was still PR.
Controversy meant attention.
People who didn’t care about Hojou, or mysteries at all, might still buy the manga just to see what all the fuss was about.
“Then where’s the problem?” Kyousuke’s own smile spread.
“There is one problem… it means we’ll have to raise your page rate again.” Shimomura’s grin was dazzling.
“Forget page rates—just bump my royalties a few more percentage points.”
“Well… that might require a meeting…”
The two bantered easily, laughter filling the room.
The atmosphere had grown a hundred times lighter compared to when they’d first sat down—until a sudden knock knock at the door interrupted them.
