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The meeting room at the animation studio was very quiet and smelled like green tea and old wood.
Michael sat on a cushion across from a living legend.
Mr. Hayao Miyazaki sat there with his arms crossed. He wore his famous white apron and thick glasses. He looked exactly like the pictures, kind but very serious.
Next to Michael sat his manager, Evans.
Evans was sweating a lot. He was holding a small English-to-Japanese dictionary.
Evans wanted to make a good impression.
Evans bowed deeply. He opened his mouth to say, "It is an honor to meet you." Instead, Dave said very loudly in broken Japanese, "Watashi wa... chīsai inu desu! Arigato!"
Mr. Miyazaki blinked. He looked at Evans.
Then, he looked at his translator.
The translator covered her mouth to hide a smile. "Mr. Owen," she whispered in English. "Your manager just told him, 'I am a very small dog. Thank you.'"
Michael put his face in his hands. Evans turned completely red.
Mr. Miyazaki suddenly let out a loud, warm laugh. The heavy, serious feeling in the room disappeared. He waved his hand, smiling at Evans, and spoke in Japanese.
"He says it is nice to meet the small dog," the translator said, smiling. "Now, he wishes to talk about your book."
Michael sat up straight.
He took a deep breath. It was time for business.
"Mr. Miyazaki, I love your work," Michael started. "I want you to make the movie. But I cannot sell my book to you."
The translator spoke. Mr. Miyazaki stopped smiling and looked confused.
"My studio always buys the full rights to the stories we animate," Mr. Miyazaki said through the translator. "That is how we work."
"I understand," Michael said firmly. "But this story is too important to me. I want a licensing deal. I will keep all the rights to my book. I am just... renting the story to you for this one movie. You get the movie, I keep my rights."
Mr. Miyazaki frowned. He tapped his fingers on the table. It was a very bold demand from a new writer. He looked like he was going to say no.
Michael leaned forward. He had to play his best card.
"Sir," Michael said, looking right into the old master's eyes. "If we do it my way, and you make this movie exactly how I wrote it... I promise you, it will win an Academy Award. It will get an Oscar."
The room went completely silent. Evans stopped sweating and stared at Michael.
The translator looked shocked before she translated the words.
In a normal world, Mr. Miyazaki would never care about awards. He often viewed them with indifference or as distractions from his work, frequently skipping major ceremonies like the Oscars. But this world's Miyazaki was different; he loved his work, there was no doubt about it, but he also cared about prestige and fame—not for him, but for the company he made with his own hands," Michael thought.
Mr. Miyazaki listened. His eyes locked onto Michael. He studied the young writer's face for a long, quiet minute. He was looking for any sign of a lie. He found none.
Slowly, the old master smiled.
"An Oscar," Mr. Miyazaki said softly in English. Then he switched back to Japanese.
"He says he accepts your renting deal," the translator said.
Inside his mind, Michael was screaming. He was doing backflips. He just made a deal with Hayao Miyazaki!
"But," the translator continued, holding up a finger. "Mr. Miyazaki has one condition. If he is going to make an Oscar-winning movie, he needs the creator by his side. He will only agree if you become the Executive Producer. Don't worry you won't do anything technical here, but he would like you to be the guide.You must work with him to make it perfect."
Michael's heart almost exploded. Executive Producer? For a Ghibli movie?! He wanted to jump across the table and shout 'Yes!'
But he remembered his stoic face. He forced his body to stay totally calm.
He nodded slowly, like this was just a normal Tuesday.
"That is a very big job, Mr. Miyazaki," Michael said smoothly. "I am very interested. But I will need to get back to you. I must talk to my family about this first."
Mr. Miyazaki nodded respectfully.
Evans looked at Michael like he was crazy. "You are making Miyazaki wait?!" Evans mouthed silently. He had researched this man and was head over heels for him and respected him.
Michael just smiled and drank his green tea.
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"Yes mom...ok mom...yes of course...oh really?...its fine...yes...don't worry about it...yes...yeah...I will don't worry...yes mom...okay...thank you...bye!" Micheal cut his call and looked at his new apartment in Japan.
"Maximum Effort" said micheal said while pushing his sofa to the right place.