Chapter 14: The Quiet Pursuit
The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed faintly above the editing bay of a lesser-known anime sound studio tucked into a modest Shinjuku building. It was well past 1 a.m., and the city outside had finally quieted, but the studio lights remained on.
At the back of the room, hunched over a cluttered desk filled with audio monitors, stacked notes, and a stained coffee mug, sat Hiroyuki Sonoda. He was in his late thirties, a freelance post-production engineer, and a veteran in the background of the anime world. Not famous, not flashy. But his ear—his ear was trusted.
He'd worked on environmental mixing for dozens of shows, including background audio on hits like Clannad, Gundam 00, and the early prototypes for what would later become Attack on Titan. Most of the time, people only noticed his work when he messed up.
But this—this wasn't his work. And yet it sounded… perfect.
He played the scene again. A hauntingly subtle wind brushing through bamboo. Distant night insects chirping faintly under the emotional weight of the Demon Slayer dialogue. But the thing that disturbed him wasn't the mixing quality.
It was the fact that it wasn't possible.
Not with 2010 software.
Not even with their best plugin chains.
And it was all streamed live on a feed with no traceable origin.
"GhostFrame_JP," he muttered, rubbing his temple. "Who the hell are you?"
He wasn't alone in wondering.
Meanwhile, Cal sat cross-legged on his small floor mat, eating a simple bento from the local konbini. He barely tasted it. His mind was racing.
The last stream had pulled in twelve thousand views over the past two days, most of them from Japan, but a significant number coming from strange places—Denmark, Singapore, Brazil. The system now tracked mirror clips being spread through message boards, niche forums, and low-traffic torrent sites, all timestamped in 2010.
[New Mission Available]
[Mission: Influence Emerging Creators]
[Task: Stream a "Behind the Vision" Feature on an Unreleased Work (Creator Commentary Mode Enabled)]
[Target Reach: Minimum 3,000 views]
[Reward: 120 System Points + Creator Signal Boost Function (Unlock)]
Cal tapped his fingers on the futon.
Unreleased work… commentary?
He'd been holding back Your Name since (Chapter 4), but now—now the system was inviting something deeper. Not just a show. A message. A way to speak directly to the people who might one day create these stories.
He selected it carefully.
A mock interview format. He would structure the stream like a short docuseries—starting with a breakdown of the themes, emotional arcs, artistic design, and then trail off into broader conversation.
He spoke into the mic slowly, his voice low but clear.
"I don't know your names yet," he said, "but I know what you'll make. And it will be beautiful. So don't give up. This… this is just a glimpse."
Two days later, a graduate student named Souta Kaminaga at Kyoto Seika University woke up to five missed messages from a friend in animation theory class.
"Yo check this stream link. Creator commentary. Some guy talking like he's inside Makoto Shinkai's head. Bro it's CREEPY how accurate it is."
Souta clicked.
He watched the full 38-minute stream in silence. Then he watched it again.
It wasn't just analysis—it was insight. The kind only someone working with Shinkai would know. But this wasn't a leak. It was… reverent. Like watching someone unwrap a story before it was even told.
His hands trembled slightly as he searched through the metadata.
Nothing.
No creator tag. No server log.
Just the alias: GhostFrame_JP.
Souta opened a private forum used by young animation students and posted the link.
"Whoever this is… they know things. Not rumors. Not guesses. It's like future-knowledge. And it's kind. Encouraging. Honestly—I want to be the kind of creator they're speaking to."
In a quiet office on the top floor of a Tokyo building, a name finally reached someone who mattered.
Kenji Oura leaned forward as his colleague from the music side dropped a printed transcript onto his desk.
"You need to look at this, Kenji," she said. "Somebody's streaming stuff that doesn't exist yet. And it's good. Too good."
He read through the notes. The commentary stream. The music overlays. The flawless video transitions. A handful of names from the forums scribbled in the margins.
Then he saw the label: GhostFrame_JP.
Kenji didn't smile. He frowned.
And immediately opened a folder titled Unverified Talent.
"I'm going to find this guy," he muttered.
[System Update – 72 Hours Post Commentary Stream]
[Combined View Estimate: 15,600+]
[Discussion Nodes Detected: 37]
[Target Creator Match Detected: "Souta Kaminaga – Aspiring Director – Kyoto Seika University"]
[System Comment: "Seed Planted."]
[System Bonus: +20 Points | Creator Signal Boost Function UNLOCKED]
[You may now anonymously amplify a future creator's exposure within the 2010 timeline.]
[Would you like to activate this function now?]
Cal hesitated.
This was different.
Now he could subtly alter a future animator's trajectory. Give them a little more visibility—an extra push. He thought of that student, wherever he was, watching the stream with trembling hands.
"…Yeah," Cal whispered. "Activate it."
[Function Activated: Kaminaga Souta – Exposure Rating: Moderate → Strong]
[Effect: Increased Portfolio Traffic | Forum Influence Boost | Early Internship Opportunity Flag (Trigger Studio, Pending)]
It was quiet power.
And Cal used it gently.
Three days later, a video clip began trending inside Japan's closed creative circles. A group of young animators hosted a small workshop in Osaka, and during a break, one of them casually played a scene from the GhostFrame_JP stream.
When the crowd saw the visuals—fluid transitions, perfect camera panning, musical layering—the room fell silent.
One instructor from a nearby university whispered, "How can we compete with something that doesn't exist?"
Another replied, "Maybe it does exist. Just not here."
Back in his apartment, Cal stared at the system screen, the glowing world map slowly pulsing with light.
New messages trickled in.
"You're not real, are you?"
"Please do a commentary for Violet Evergarden someday."
"I'm studying animation because of this. Thank you."
He didn't reply.
But he read them all.
Alone in the darkness, Cal smiled—not widely, not foolishly. Just a quiet, peaceful smile.
He was still alone.
But not unnoticed.
And not forgotten.
The stream continued.
End of Chapter 14