Chapter 213: Arrival In Kumamoto! Misae’s Boyfriend! Isshin Fujiwara From The Ministry Of Finance!
The night was like a dark blue velvet cloth, washed countless times by water, quietly covering the sky above Kumamoto City.
The hour hand had silently passed the eleven o’clock mark. For this city located in the west-central part of Kyushu Island, most households had long since fallen asleep, with only scattered lights, like weary stars, stubbornly twinkling on earth.
However, in a typical Japanese wooden detached house in Kumamoto City, the lights of the Oyama family were as bright as day, casting long, slanted shadows of the old plum tree in the garden.
“Quick! Quick! Wipe the tatami mats over there again! With a dry cloth! Otherwise, there will be water stains tomorrow!”
Hiroshi Oyama, the master of the house, stood in the center of the living room, hands on his hips, like a general about to inspect his troops, loudly directing a sudden, large-scale “battle”—a thorough house cleaning.
Fine beads of sweat had formed on his forehead, but his eyes burned with excitement.
The air was filled with the fresh fragrance of detergent and the warm, mellow scent emanating from the polished old wood. The low hum of the vacuum cleaner was the main melody of this late-night symphony.
“Got it, Dad! You’ve said that three times already!”
A slightly lazy but clear female voice came from a corner.
Mogae Oyama, the youngest and most pampered, yet most prone to laziness, daughter in the family, was now uncharacteristically kneeling on the floor, a rag clutched in her hand, meticulously wiping the gaps in the floorboards.
Her movements were not exactly skillful, but her focus was unprecedented.
Sweat dampened her bangs, and a strand of hair playfully stuck to her cheek. She impatiently wiped it away with the back of her hand before burying herself in work again.
“Mogae, stop complaining. Be careful, or Dad might have you clean the toilet later.”
Masae Oyama, the older sister, who was organizing a cabinet, turned her head and reminded her gently.
But it was also teasing.
Her movements were always orderly, calm, and elegant, forming a stark contrast to the household’s commotion.
“Exactly, Mogae. This is the first time Misae is bringing Hiroshi-kun home, we absolutely cannot make any mistakes,” said Mother Takao Oyama softly as she smoothed out a newly changed tablecloth, her face beaming with anticipation and a hint of imperceptible nervousness.
“Of course, I know!” Mogae stopped her work, stood up, and said in an exaggerated tone, “That’s Nohara Hiroshi! Who in all of Japan doesn’t know his name now? He’s a famous director! Our Misae sister is really lucky to have found such a treasure!”
Upon mentioning that name, the atmosphere in the entire house seemed to change.
Nohara Hiroshi.
A year ago, this name, for the Oyama family, was merely the ordinary office worker boyfriend their second daughter, Misae, was dating in Tokyo.
But now, that name was adorned with a long string of dazzling halos, like a comet that had suddenly blazed across the night sky, so brilliant that it was daunting to behold.
It left them all unable to react.
Hiroshi Oyama’s expression became even more smug. He cleared his throat and said, “Naturally! And who do you think Misae’s daughter is? Misae’s taste follows mine!”
“Yes, yes, it follows yours,” Takao smiled helplessly, continuing to arrange the vases on the table.
Mogae pouted, but she had to admit to herself that her future brother-in-law was indeed impeccable.
The last time she and her sisters accompanied their father to Tokyo, Hiroshi Nohara’s hospitality had been more than considerate.
High-class restaurants, department stores in Ginza, gifts with staggering price tags—he acted as if he had no concept of money, stuffing bags and packages into their hands.
After their father returned, he spent a whole week just showing off those Tokyo specialties to the neighbors.
“Speaking of which,” Hiroshi Oyama said, as if recalling something important, slapping his thigh, “Have we prepared our Kumamoto specialties? Horse meat sashimi, karashi renkon, and ‘Homare no Jintai-daiko’, they all have to be the freshest and of the highest quality!”
“Don’t worry, Dad, I already made reservations this afternoon, and they’ll be delivered first thing tomorrow morning,” Masae replied, always so reassuring.
“Good, that’s good,” Hiroshi Oyama nodded with satisfaction. He glanced around his immaculately clean home, and an unprecedented sense of pride welled up within him.
He straightened his back and, in a tone as if announcing a major decision, declared, “I’ve decided! Tomorrow, I’m going to invite Sasaki, Otomo, Sanada, and our relatives! Let everyone meet the fine son-in-law of the Oyama family! Let the entire neighborhood know that the famous director Nohara Hiroshi has come to our home!”
As soon as he finished speaking, Mogae, who was diligently wiping the floor, froze. She slowly raised her head, her eyes squinting sideways, looking at her father with a helpless expression as if he were an alien.
“Dad, are you serious?”
“Of course!” Hiroshi Oyama’s chin was held high.
“Excessive sharing only invites annoyance, let alone showing off,” Mogae mercilessly punctured her father’s little scheme. “Won’t your old colleagues, old friends, and our relatives feel uncomfortable?” She then pouted, saying, “This kind of thing always ruins the atmosphere for everyone!”
“You!” Hiroshi Oyama’s face instantly turned red, from the nape of his neck all the way to his earlobes, as if his emperor’s new clothes had been exposed in public, leaving him momentarily flustered.
He opened his mouth, wanting to retort, but found that his daughter’s words were so sharp and accurate that he had no room for argument.
“Mogae, how can you speak to your father like that?” Mother Takao chided, but the smile in her eyes betrayed her true feelings.
Hiroshi Oyama was embarrassed for a moment, but as a man who had weathered storms, his eyes darted, and he immediately found a new footing. He puffed out his chest, his face instantly shifting to an expression of righteous indignation and solemnity, and his voice rose by eight octaves.
“How can this be called showing off? Hiroshi Nohara-kun, he will soon be a member of our Oyama family! He’s coming to visit us, shouldn’t our Oyama family, and our relatives and friends who have always cared for us, gather together to celebrate Misae and Hiroshi-kun? This is a moment of family glory! It’s about cohesion! What do you know!”
He stood in the center of the living room, the lights from above casting a golden halo around him. His smug demeanor, as if he were standing on the moral high ground, left Mogae Oyama speechless.
She helplessly put her hand to her forehead and sighed, “Oh heavens, where has my modest and cautious father gone? How has he become like this?”
“Pfft—”
A light chuckle broke the stalemate.
It was Mother Takao and elder sister Masae. Both had their hands covering their mouths, their shoulders shaking, clearly struggling to suppress their laughter.
Seeing their usually witty and eloquent younger sister at a disadvantage in front of their father was a rare and exceptionally amusing sight.
“Mom! Big sister! You’re still laughing!” Mogae Oyama suddenly became annoyed, her cheeks puffed out like a wronged hamster.
She leaped up from the floor, stomped her feet, pointed at her father, and said indignantly, “You guys wait! When brother-in-law comes, I’ll definitely make him judge fairly! Let him stand up for me!”
“Hahaha, alright, we’ll wait.” Hiroshi Oyama not only wasn’t angry but laughed even more heartily, as if he could already see Hiroshi Nohara standing by his side, “educating” this younger daughter together.
“You… you’re all ganging up on me to bully me!” Mogae was so angry she couldn’t speak.
The house was instantly filled with joyful air. The fatigue from the cleaning was completely gone, leaving only the warm and genuine laughter and banter among family members.
After the laughter subsided, the atmosphere gradually calmed down.
The smile on Hiroshi Oyama’s face slowly receded. He walked over to his elder daughter, Masae, his gaze becoming gentle and deep.
He pursed his lips, seemingly choosing his words carefully, and then softly asked, “Masae…”
“Yes? Dad.” Masae stopped her work and looked at her father.
“That… Fujiwara-kun, who works at the prefectural office, can we invite him tomorrow…?”
As soon as this question was asked, the living room fell silent.
Takao, who was polishing a photo frame, and Mogae, who had been sulking, both turned their gaze to Masae simultaneously.
In their eyes, there was concern, inquiry, and a hint of unspoken anticipation.
Masae Oyama was the most steady and least troublesome child in the family.
After graduating from university, she successfully became a teacher at a local school, a respectable and stable job.
And the Fujiwara-kun she mentioned was her boyfriend. He worked at the Kumamoto Prefectural Office, had a promising future, and was considered a standard “golden bachelor” by their neighbors.
In a sense, for Masae Oyama to marry into the Fujiwara family was even a step up for their Oyama family.
Masae knew what her family was worried about.
She smiled slightly, her smile like the spring sunlight, warm and gentle, instantly dispelling the slight uncertainty in her father’s eyes.
“Don’t worry, Dad,” her voice was calm and firm. “My relationship with Fujiwara-kun is very stable. He’s been wanting to visit you and Mom. I’ll tell him, and he’ll definitely come. He might even be happier than anyone else.”
Upon hearing this answer, Hiroshi Oyama’s tense shoulders visibly relaxed.
He exchanged glances with his wife, Takao, seeing undeniable relief and joy in each other’s eyes.
It was the most basic wish of any parent—to see their children find a good home and live happy, stable lives.
“Good, that’s good…” Hiroshi Oyama murmured, his voice trembling slightly.
He turned around, looking again at the immaculately clean house, his heart filled with emotion.
“It’s really… it’s really wonderful.”
He let out a long sigh, as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted. “Misae has found such a talented young man as Hiroshi-kun, and Masae and Fujiwara-kun are also proceeding so smoothly… Our Oyama family has finally overcome hardship and is moving step by step towards a better future!”
“Yes,” Takao Oyama also walked to her husband’s side, gently patting his back, tears welling in her eyes. “The children have all grown up and are doing well.”
A warm and sentimental atmosphere flowed quietly through the air.
However, this sentimentality didn’t last long.
After finishing his reflection, Hiroshi Oyama suddenly slanted his eyes, slowly turning his gaze towards Mogae Oyama, who was still standing nearby.
In his eyes were scrutiny, teasing, and a hint of disappointment.
Mogae, who had been immersed in her elder sister’s happiness and the warm family atmosphere, was suddenly caught by her father’s meaningful gaze, and her hair stood on end.
She immediately crossed her arms, adopting a wary, defensive posture.
“…What are you looking at me for?”
Her voice was filled with apprehension, like a small animal that had been spotted.
Hiroshi Oyama said nothing, but stroked his chin, looking her up and down, then sighed meaningfully and shook his head.
Those silent actions spoke louder than a thousand words.
“Hahahaha!”
“Pfft—”
Instantly, Takao Oyama and Masae Oyama couldn’t hold back any longer. Both burst into clear laughter.
Their father’s dramatic expression of “my daughter has grown up, and I’m worried sick about another,” coupled with Mogae’s tense, enemy-at-the-gates demeanor, was simply too amusing.
“Dad! What kind of look is that!” Mogae’s face instantly turned bright red, a mix of embarrassment and anger. “I’m only 17! I’m still in high school! What am I rushing for!”
“No rush, no rush,” Hiroshi Oyama said, waving his hand, barely suppressing a smile, his mustache twitching. “Our Mogae is still young, she can play for a few more years. We won’t rush, definitely won’t rush.”
He said “won’t rush,” but his eyes clearly conveyed “look at your two sisters, and then look at yourself.”
“Ah— I’m not talking to you guys anymore! I’m going to take a bath!”
Amidst the laughter, Mogae Oyama dropped her rag and fled the “scene of the crime” like a gust of wind, ducking into the bathroom.
In the living room, the laughter continued.
As Hiroshi Oyama laughed, his eyes became a little moist.
He looked at his wife, at his elder daughter, and listened to the muffled complaints of his younger daughter from the bathroom, his heart filled with an immense sense of happiness.
This family might not be wealthy, it might be ordinary, but at this moment, because of his daughters’ happiness, and because of the excellent young man who was about to join them, it was filled with unprecedented hope and vitality.
He could already envision the scene tomorrow when Nohara Hiroshi stepped through the door of their home.
It wasn’t just one daughter bringing her boyfriend home; it was the wind of an era blowing into their small family in Kyushu.
And this wind would carry them towards a brighter, more brilliant future.
…
Meanwhile, in Tokyo.
The night wind whistled through the gaps between the apartment buildings, as if lamenting the fatigue and noise of this sleepless city.
Nohara Hiroshi stood on the apartment balcony, a cigarette between his fingers, its tip glowing red, dimming and brightening in the night. He wasn’t smoking, just letting the thin stream of smoke rise and dissipate in the wind.
Beneath his feet lay the dazzling sea of lights of Tokyo, countless points of light merging into flowing galaxies, magnificent yet cold. This city was full of opportunities, but also full of pressure, with everyone rushing for their dreams or simply for survival.
And he, Nohara Hiroshi, had already lit his own lamp in this sea of lights, and it was shining perhaps a little too brightly.
The box office for 《The Tale of Hachiko》 continued to surge, and its word-of-mouth had completely broken out of the art-house cinephile circles, becoming a social phenomenon.
Invitations for nominations for major film awards were flying in like snowflakes, and TV interview requests were already booked for next month. He had instantly become the most sought-after new star director in Japan’s film and television industry.
The feeling was strange, yet also carried a sense of unreality.
“What are you thinking about, Hiroshi?”
A warm jacket was gently draped over his shoulders, accompanied by Misae’s gentle voice. She hugged him from behind, pressing her cheek against his back.
“Nothing much,” Hiroshi turned around, pulling her into his embrace, resting his chin on top of her head. “Just looking at the night view. Tokyo nights are never tiresome to look at.”
“Really? I think Kumamoto nights are even more beautiful,” Misae nuzzled into his arms, her voice tinged with a hint of childishness. “Although there aren’t as many lights, you can see so many stars.”
“Yes, we’ll be able to see them tomorrow,” Hiroshi smiled and tightened his arms.
Visiting Misae’s parents in Kumamoto was a plan he had made long ago. For him, this was not just meeting the parents, but also fulfilling a promise.
He wanted to show Misae’s family that their daughter was doing well in Tokyo, and that the man she chose was trustworthy.
“Will my parents do anything impolite?” Misae suddenly asked with some unease.
“How could they?” Hiroshi chuckled. “Don’t you remember how I entertained your father when he visited Tokyo last time?”
“It’s precisely because you entertained him so well that I’m worried,” Misae mumbled. “My dad, he really cares about face. You’re so famous now, he’ll surely be very happy, and might even show off everywhere, what if it makes things awkward?”
Hiroshi couldn’t help but laugh at her words.
He knew Misae’s father, Hiroshi Oyama, too well. He was a typical Kyushu man, stubborn and proud, but deeply loved his daughters in his heart.
“Don’t worry,” he gently patted Misae’s back, comforting her. “Let him show off if he wants to. It means he approves of me and is proud of his daughter. As for awkwardness, as long as we treat them with sincerity, there will be no awkwardness.”
His voice was steady and powerful, possessing a strange magic that instantly soothed all of Misae’s unease.
“Mm,” Misae nodded, hugging him tighter.
The wind on the balcony was a bit cool, so Hiroshi led Misae back into the warm living room.
On the coffee table in the living room were the gifts he had prepared for the Oyama family.
Each gift had been carefully selected.
This was not about money, but an attitude.
He wanted everyone in the Oyama family to feel his respect and sincerity.
“Oh, right,” Misae pointed to a beautifully wrapped box and asked curiously, “What is this? It doesn’t seem to be for Mom and Dad.”
“Oh, this,” Hiroshi picked up the box and handed it to her. “It’s for Masae-san’s boyfriend, Fujiwara-kun.”
“Eh? There are gifts for Masae-sis’s boyfriend too?” Misae’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Last time I was drinking with your father-in-law, I learned that he really values Masae-sis and that Fujiwara-kun. In that case, I understand he’s the support for your father-in-law in Kumamoto Prefecture,” Hiroshi winked and smiled. “I heard he works at the prefectural office and is a very excellent person. Since we’re going to visit, we shouldn’t be impolite.”
Misae looked at Hiroshi, at the gentle and thoughtful smile on his face, and a warm current surged through her heart.
This man not only possessed astonishing talent and courage in his career but was also meticulously considerate in handling these social matters in life. He always thought ahead of her and arranged everything for her.
“Hiroshi, thank you,” she said sincerely.
“Silly, do we need to say thank you between us?” Hiroshi playfully flicked her nose.
Tomorrow, he would travel to tranquil Kumamoto as the boyfriend of Oyama Misae.
And in the future, as director Nohara Hiroshi, he would make the whole world go crazy for his stories.
He turned around and hugged Misae.
At that moment, the myriad lights outside the window seemed to dim in comparison.
Nohara Hiroshi said softly, “Let’s go to sleep. Tomorrow, let’s witness a moment of family glory.”
…
When the Boeing passenger jet landed heavily on the runway at Kumamoto Airport, emitting a comforting roar as it frictioned with the asphalt, Nohara Hiroshi saw a sky completely different from Tokyo through the small porthole.
The sky there was as blue as if it had been washed with the purest spring water, and the clouds were leisurely, hanging in clumps, carrying a rustic leisureliness and tranquility.
Tokyo’s clouds were always in a hurry, as if pushed by an invisible wind to attend endless meetings.
The two-hour flight felt like passing through an invisible door, leaving the noisy, gaudy world, soaked in neon lights and desires, far behind.
“Misae, over here!”
As soon as he stepped out of the arrival gate, a clear and familiar voice cut through the noise of the crowd, with a touch of joy and urgency, like a skylark returning to its nest.
Hiroshi Nohara looked in the direction of the sound and immediately saw the smiling figure in the crowd.
Mogae Nohara, wearing a simple beige dress, was waving enthusiastically. Beside her stood a group of people with various expressions, forming a vivid family portrait.
Leading the group was a man who wasn’t particularly tall, but stood with a straight back, a serious expression, and no smile. He was the pillar of the Oyama family, the retired dean of students, Yoshiharu Oyama.
He merely nodded slightly, his gaze scrutinizing, yet also concealing a hint of imperceptible satisfaction.
The woman beside him was the complete opposite, gentle and kind. The years had left their marks on her face, but also settled into a glow of affection.
Takao Oyama’s smile was like the May sunlight in Kumamoto, warm but not scorching, warming the heart.
Next to them was Misae’s elder sister, Masae Oyama, who bore a strong resemblance to Misae but had a more quiet and gentle demeanor. Beside her was their younger sister, Mogae Nohara, with her chic short hair, her eyes full of curiosity and excitement, almost as if the words “star brother-in-law” were written on her face.
“Father-in-law, Mother-in-law, long time no see.” Hiroshi Nohara quickened his pace, bowed slightly, his posture humble and polite.
“Mm, welcome to Kumamoto, Nohara-kun. You must have had a tiring journey.” Yoshiharu Oyama’s voice was deep and strong, carrying the dignity of an old-fashioned man.
“Not at all, it’s my honor to be able to visit you both.” Hiroshi replied with a smile.
On the other side, the reunion of the women was much more fervent.
“Mom! Sister! Mogae!” Misae fluttered over like a butterfly and hugged her mother and sisters.
“You child, have you been eating properly in Tokyo? You seem a little thinner.” Takao Oyama gently stroked Misae’s cheek with concern.
“Not at all, Mom, Hiroshi takes good care of me.” A blush of happiness spread across Misae’s cheeks.
“Mom, Misae is also a big president now, so it’s natural for her to be busy.” Elder sister Masae teased, with a hint of playful banter in her words.
“Exactly!” Mogae Nohara squeezed in, her big eyes sparkling as she stared at Hiroshi Nohara, unashamedly revealing her admiration: “Brother-in-law! I saw you on TV! You were amazing in the ‘Kanji’ episode of World of the Strange! So many girls at our school are crazy about you!”
“Mogae, don’t be disrespectful.” Yoshiharu Oyama coughed lightly from the side, but the slight smile in his eyes betrayed his inner pride.
Hiroshi Nohara smiled gently, “Thank you for your support, Mogae. But at home, you don’t need to call me so formally.”
After a brief exchange of pleasantries, the family prepared to leave.
“Let’s go, the car is outside.” Yoshiharu Oyama said.
“Ah, please wait a moment, Father-in-law.” Hiroshi Nohara pointed to the baggage conveyor belt not far away: “I still have some things over there, and I might need everyone’s help.”
The others followed him over, looking somewhat puzzled. As the conveyor belt slowly turned, and boxes and gift boxes of various sizes and exquisite packaging appeared before them, the expressions of the Oyama family began to change wonderfully.
“Hiroshi, are these… all from you?” Masae covered her mouth in surprise.
“Well, it’s my first formal visit, I couldn’t come empty-handed,” Hiroshi said nonchalantly.
He picked up a heavy box first and handed it to Yoshiharu Oyama, “Father-in-law, this is a set of thirty-year aged whiskey that I asked a friend to get from Scotland, and a set of handmade cigars. I hope you like them.”
Yoshiharu Oyama’s eyes lit up. He was a connoisseur of fine liquor, but he maintained his stern tone, “You’ve spent too much, Nohara-kun.” But his hand, as he took the box, was steady and showed no intention of refusing.
Next, Hiroshi took out an exquisite jewelry box and handed it to Takao Oyama, “Mother-in-law, this is a gold necklace and a pair of earrings that I specifically chose for you. It’s a small token.”
In Neon, before the bubble economy burst, gold jewelry was a symbol of wealth and status, and the most popular valuable gifts.
Takao Oyama opened the box and saw the pure gold jewelry sparkling under the lights, her eyes filled with surprise and delight.
“Oh, this… this is too precious!” she exclaimed, but her smile was radiant.
“Sister, this is for you, a set of Shiseido’s most high-end skincare products.”
“Thank you, Hiroshi.” Masae accepted the gift and thanked him politely, her eyes also showing joy.
Finally, Hiroshi, as if by magic, produced another stylishly packaged box and handed it to Mogae Nohara, who had been eagerly anticipating it.
“Mogae, this is the latest portable music player, and a few signed CDs from Tokyo’s most popular idol singers.”
“Wow—!” Mogae Nohara let out a shriek of happiness, snatched the gift, and hugged it tightly. Her gaze towards Hiroshi Nohara was as if she were looking at a shining deity, “Brother-in-law! You are truly the best brother-in-law in the world! I love you to death!”
In addition to these main gifts, there were clothes and sunglasses chosen by Hiroshi, as well as a small mountain of various Tokyo specialty sweets and famous teas.
Looking at the display, the Oyama family was momentarily speechless.
The weight of these gifts far exceeded a normal visit; they represented an attitude, considerable strength, and respect and importance for every member of the Oyama family.
“Alright, alright, let’s not stand around here.” Yoshiharu Oyama came to his senses, waved his hand, and the stern ice on his face had melted significantly, “Let’s move everything to the car.”
They then noticed that there were two cars parked in the parking lot.
One was the Toyota Crown the Oyama family usually used, and the other was a newer Corolla.
“There’s too much stuff, so I asked Masae to have her friend drive their car over too,” Yoshiharu Oyama explained.
Everyone busily loaded the gifts into the cars. The two cars drove away from the airport, one after the other, heading smoothly towards their home in Kumamoto City.
The cars passed through the suburban fields, drove onto neat streets, and finally stopped in front of an elegant two-story detached house.
This was the Oyama family residence. The pine and cypress trees in the yard were meticulously trimmed, just like the male head of the household.
“Come in and sit down for a bit to rest.” Yoshiharu Oyama opened the door, and a fragrance of tatami and wood mixed together wafted out. “I’ve already arranged for dinner at an outside hotel, so we’ll go directly there later.”
Everyone walked into the living room and sat by the low table.
Yoshiharu Oyama looked at Hiroshi with a mysterious smile and said, “By the way, Hiroshi. Tonight, Masae’s boyfriend will also be coming. His name is Fujiwara, and they’re getting engaged soon. It’s a good chance to introduce you. You’re both young, so you can get to know each other better.”
“Oh? That’s great,” Hiroshi Nohara replied with a nod.
At that moment, Takao Oyama came out from the kitchen carrying an exquisite lacquer tray. On it were several dishes of what looked like expensive Japanese sweets, and a set of exquisite tea utensils.
“Here, Hiroshi, Misae, try this. It’s Yokan from Toraya. I specifically asked someone to bring it back from Kyoto.”
Mogae Nohara’s eyes widened at the sight of the delicate sweets that looked like works of art. Normally, these were treasures only brought out when important guests visited.
Today, they were placed before Hiroshi Nohara as a matter of course.
“Thank you, Mother-in-law.”
Hiroshi picked up a piece of Yokan and put it in his mouth. It was sweet but not greasy, with a delicate texture. Paired with the high-quality Uji Matcha that had just been brewed, the slightly bitter tea aroma and the sweetness of the Yokan mingled perfectly in his mouth.
The family sat together, eating sweets and drinking tea, the atmosphere warm and harmonious.
The tension and fatigue of Tokyo seemed to be washed away by the gentle tea aroma.
Just then, a faint ringing sound was heard.
Masae Oyama took out a small pager from her handbag, glanced at it, then got up and walked to the telephone in the corner of the living room. She dialed a number and spoke a few words in a low voice.
After hanging up, she returned and said, “Dad, Mom, Mr. Fujiwara is at the door.”
“Oh?” Yoshiharu Oyama’s face immediately lit up with a smile, a smile of genuine, unreserved admiration and satisfaction. “Quick, quick, invite him in.”
“Yes.”
Masae Oyama turned and walked towards the entrance.
A moment later, she led a young man in.
He was a man of about twenty-six or twenty-seven, wearing a well-tailored dark suit, his hair meticulously combed, and a faint, perfectly measured smile on his face.
The smile was standard and proper, as if measured by a ruler, possessing a politician-like amiability, yet it didn’t convey an iota of genuine warmth.
His name was Isshin Fujiwara.
“Uncle, Aunt, good evening.” Isshin Fujiwara first bowed respectfully to Yoshiharu Oyama and Takao Oyama, his voice steady and his manners impeccable.
“Isshin is here, come sit, sit.” Yoshiharu Oyama greeted him warmly.
Isshin Fujiwara’s gaze then shifted to Hiroshi Nohara. He nodded slightly, the standard smile still on his face.
“You must be Hiroshi Nohara-kun?”
“Hello, I’m Hiroshi Nohara.” Hiroshi stood up and nodded in greeting.
“I’ve heard a lot about you.” Isshin Fujiwara’s eyes held a hint of assessment. “Not only has Masae mentioned you frequently, but recent news and newspapers are also full of reports about you. To achieve such success in the film and television industry at such a young age is truly admirable.”
His words sounded like praise, but every word carried a formulaic politeness, like a prepared speech.
“Mr. Fujiwara is too kind, it’s just some empty fame, not worth taking seriously.” Hiroshi Nohara replied humbly, his smile gentle, yet with an unpretentious demeanor.
This was perhaps the subtle competition between the young men.
“Haha, you two shouldn’t just praise each other here.” Yoshiharu Oyama looked at the two outstanding young men before him, feeling immensely satisfied and delighted.
One was a rising star in politics soon to be his eldest son-in-law, and the other was a famous director soon to be his second son-in-law. This made him, as a father, feel incredibly proud.
Isshin Fujiwara sat down beside Masae, naturally took the tea offered by Takao Oyama, thanked her again, and exuded the composure and upbringing characteristic of the elite in his every gesture.
“I heard Mr. Fujiwara is currently working at the Ministry of Finance?” Hiroshi Nohara initiated the conversation, breaking the brief silence.
Isshin Fujiwara’s hand holding the tea cup paused slightly, a flicker of surprise in his eyes, as if he hadn’t expected the other party to know such specific details.
His smile gained a touch more authenticity. “Yes, I hold a minor position in the Budget Bureau. Do you also have an interest in this field, Nohara-kun?”
“I’ve heard a little,” Hiroshi said calmly. “After all, Japan’s economy today rests on your shoulders.”
While these words sounded like flattery, Isshin Fujiwara keenly detected a different undertone.
He put down his teacup, leaned forward slightly, and looked at Hiroshi Nohara. “Nohara-kun exaggerates. We are merely cogs in the vast machinery of state. What truly drives this country forward are artists like yourself, who create value in the cultural domain. After all, spiritual fulfillment is sometimes more important than material wealth, isn’t it?”
His words were flawless, elevating the other person while showcasing his own broad perspective.
Yoshiharu Oyama listened from the side, nodding repeatedly, clearly very appreciative of Isshin Fujiwara’s remarks.
In his opinion, this was the kind of conversation and insight true elites should possess.
“Mr. Fujiwara is too kind,” Hiroshi Nohara smiled, not taking the bait, but changing the subject. “I’m just an actor, a storyteller. I interpret the joys and sorrows of others for more people to see. Ultimately, it’s just a craft, and it cannot be compared to someone as talented as you, Mr. Fujiwara, who manages national affairs.”
He kept his posture low, but his words carried a certain backbone.
“Brother-in-law isn’t just a craftsman!” Mogae Nohara couldn’t help but interject, looking at Isshin Fujiwara with some displeasure. “Brother-in-law is an artist! A star! Your job, Mr. Fujiwara, sounds so boring.”
“Mogae!” Masae Oyama immediately reprimanded in a low voice, “Don’t talk nonsense!”
“I’m not talking nonsense…” Mogae mumbled aggrievedly.
“Haha, Miss Mogae speaks her mind quickly, it’s quite amusing.” Instead of getting angry, Isshin Fujiwara laughed. His smile seemed to dispel some of the formality. “To be honest, sometimes I find my work quite boring myself. Every day I face dry numbers and documents, far less colorful than the world of Nohara-kun.”
He turned to Hiroshi. “Speaking of which, I recently watched Seven Samurai and The Tale of Hachiko starring Nohara-kun, including several episodes of World of the Strange. They were all very brilliant. Especially the one about the choice on the last train, it was truly regrettable. I wonder, if Nohara-kun himself encountered such a situation in reality, what choice would he make?”
This question, while seemingly discussing the plot, carried a hint of probing, steering the topic towards personal emotions and values.
The atmosphere in the living room became subtly tense for a moment.
All eyes were focused on Hiroshi Nohara.
Misae nervously tightened her grip on her dress. She could sense that this Isshin Fujiwara, while seemingly gentle and refined, possessed a powerful aura and his words were laced with hidden barbs.
Hiroshi Nohara, however, remained as nonchalant as ever. He picked up his teacup, took a sip, and then slowly began to speak.
“A TV drama is still a TV drama, it’s a fabricated story. Stories need dramatic conflict and regret to leave a deep impression on the audience.” His voice was unhurried, with a unique magnetic quality. “But life is not a story, life is choice. Every choice means bearing the corresponding consequences.”
He put down his teacup, looked at Isshin Fujiwara with clear eyes, and then at Misae beside him, a gentle and firm smile on his lips.
“If it were me, I wouldn’t let the person I love take the last train alone. Because I know that once it’s missed, it might be a lifetime.”
As his words fell, the living room fell silent.
Misae’s eyes instantly reddened. She gazed at Hiroshi’s profile, her heart filled with immense happiness and a sense of security.
Takao Oyama wore a smile of gratification. As a mother, all she wished for was for her daughter to find a man who cherished her.
Even the usually stern Yoshiharu Oyama’s eyes softened considerably.
The smile on Isshin Fujiwara’s face faltered slightly, then returned to normal. He clapped his hands and praised, “Well said. Nohara-kun is indeed a man of deep emotions. Masae is fortunate to have a sister like Misae, and Misae is fortunate to have a partner like you, Nohara-kun.”
He skillfully steered the conversation back to sisterly affection, diffusing the slightly sharp atmosphere.
“Alright, alright, it’s about time.” Yoshiharu Oyama stood up, breaking the brief standoff. “Let’s head to the hotel. I’ve already booked a table. We must have a good drink today!”
“Yes, let’s chat while we eat,” Takao Oyama added with a smile.
Everyone got up and prepared to leave.
Isshin Fujiwara walked over to Hiroshi and said in a low voice, “Nohara-kun, what you said just now touched me deeply. It seems I’ll have to learn from you more about how to be a good man in the future.”
“Mr. Fujiwara is too kind,” Hiroshi replied with a smile.
The two men looked at each other, a hint of inquiry and understanding in their eyes.
They both understood that this was just the beginning.
Two different lives, two different paths to success, completed a silent clash and collision in this small living room.
And the mutual admiration among the best of their peers.
The road ahead was still long.
