"No… It won't do better than 5 Centimeters per Second."
Haruki's words made the room fall quiet.
Everyone looked at him. Though they respected both of his recent works, the bluntness of that statement still hit hard.
Kazuya understood what he meant. Both Voices of a Distant Star and 5 Centimeters were made by the same team. they knew the effort that went into both. Still, they'd learned one thing from years in the industry: you can never predict how a story will land.
Before 5 Centimeters aired, they had all been uncertain. Now that it had exploded, they had more confidence—but they weren't about to assume lightning would strike twice.
Kazuya let out a breath, half-laughing. "Guess I overestimated the revenue…"
Haruki gave a slight nod but said nothing else.
They didn't need to overanalyze things. The work was done. Now it was just a matter of waiting.
And by 10 p.m. that night…
Across every major platform, Voices of a Distant Star quietly went live.
A single 25-minute short.
No major ad campaign. No launch event.
But within minutes, the ripple had already begun.
---
At exactly ten o'clock that evening, a new link appeared on major video platforms—Voices of a Distant Star was live.
"I'm in!"
The comment echoed across screens as fans who had been eagerly awaiting Mizushiro's latest work lit up with anticipation.
It had only been two days since the final episode of 5 Centimeters per Second aired, and despite the heartbreak it delivered, many viewers were still processing the lingering ache. Now, they were drawn to Mizushiro's next project.
Fortunately, thanks to reviewers and forum threads still deep in 5 Centimeters discussions, word had gotten out. While Voices of a Distant Star hadn't received much pre-release promotion, the buzz around Mizushiro's name ensured plenty of eyes were waiting at launch.
One of them was Rinako.
She had been moved by 5 Centimeters per Second, and though it left her emotionally drained, she was curious—maybe even hopeful—about what this new work might bring.
She remembered Mizushiro from his debut with Rurouni Kenshin, which had swept the Awards. Back then, she'd even voted for it.
But after that, Mizushiro had gone quiet. Until recently, she hadn't heard his name again. It wasn't until 5 Centimeters exploded in popularity that she connected the dots and realized this was the same creator. Curious, she dug through his recent projects and was stunned at how many works he had produced in the past two years.
She hadn't followed his manga due to not buying serialized issues, but Remembrance had never left her.
And when she braced herself for the third episode of 5 Centimeters, fully expecting a tragic ending… it still hit harder than she'd anticipated.
The pain in Remembrance came from a beloved character's death at the height of her emotional arc. But 5 Centimeters was different. It was slower. It showed love quietly dissolving over time, excruciating because it felt so real.
Even so, here she was, refreshed and ready, eyes glued to the screen.
She clicked play.
The first sound was a familiar one: the screech of a train on tracks.
Rinako blinked. A train again?
The screen lit up with stunning visuals—a short-haired girl editing a text message inside a train. Then a quick cut. She was running up a fire escape, still clutching her phone.
She muttered strange lines about not being able to call, about the emptiness of the world, and someone named Noboru.
It felt eerie. Lonely.
"Where am I..." the girl whispered.
Then the camera pulled back.
The buildings, the sky, the clouds—all vanished.
The girl stood in the cockpit of a towering mecha.
Behind her: the deep blue Earth suspended in the void.
The composition, the mood—it was beautiful.
Rinako exhaled slowly. Wallpaper material, she thought.
The animation was stunning, clearly on par with 5 Centimeters. The style had been updated from the original version she'd heard of. Cleaner. More vibrant. The background score—(Introduce)—started playing: soft, melancholic, pulling her straight into the narrative.
She recognized the technique: another story told through fragmented memories.
The year was 2046. The girl, Mikako Nagamine, and the boy, Noboru Terao, were childhood friends. Humanity had reverse-engineered alien tech to launch interstellar missions, hoping to track invaders from beyond the solar system.
When Noboru mentioned it, he had laughed. He knew he wouldn't qualify. His health didn't meet the standard.
But Mikako was quiet.
On the way home, Noboru chatted, but she barely responded.
Then it rained. They found shelter together, awkward, unsure—asking what the other was thinking.
In a scene lasting barely two minutes, Rinako could feel the bittersweet sting of young love.
Later, the rain cleared. Mikako, riding on the back of Noboru's bike, looked up at the evening sky. A large combat robot flew overhead, casting a shadow in the sunset.
She leaned close and whispered into his ear—words she had been trying to say all day.
"I'm going to be the one flying that."
That was the setup.
She was leaving Earth, piloting a mecha in deep space. Noboru would stay behind.
Rinako checked the runtime. Just twenty minutes?
The setting was expansive, the premise ambitious. But how could you tell a full story like this in so little time?
Clearly the two had feelings for each other, but hadn't even confessed. Was this going to be another tale of separation?
She winced. Mizushiro wouldn't do it again, would he?
After all, 5 Centimeters already told that kind of story.
Was this one about alien conflict instead?
If it turned into twenty minutes of sci-fi battles, she'd rather just watch a full-length movie. But the animation continued...
Time passed. Mikako was now stationed on Mars.
Despite their technological advances, humans still used electromagnetic waves to communicate.
Odd, but believable—maybe the aliens' tech hadn't improved that aspect.
Mikako sent emails back to Earth. To Noboru.
Then she was reassigned. To Jupiter.
Rinako blinked.
Long-distance didn't even begin to cover this.
This was interstellar distance.
And they still hadn't broken up?
(TL:- if you want even more content, check out p-atreon.com/Alioth23 for 60+ advanced chapters)