Chapter 89: Reclaiming 《an Shizhi》! The Hypocritical Crocodile Comes To The Door!
The hangover headache was like a dull, rusted chisel, hammering away at Ichiro Hashishita’s temples one strike at a time.
He slowly opened his eyes.
What came into view was the familiar yet strange ceiling of his own bedroom, with the air filled with a foul smell mixing alcohol and sour rot.
Fragments of memory were like a shattered mirror, jagged and scattered in his mind.
He only remembered drinking a lot of alcohol, smashing a lot of things, crying and howling like a madman.
Then… he remembered nothing.
“You’re awake?”
A fatigued voice came from beside him.
He turned his head and saw his wife Minami Hashishita holding a cup of warm water, quietly sitting on the edge of the bed.
Her eyes were red and swollen, that face which should have been gentle was filled with exhaustion from staying up all night, but the eyes looking at him held no blame or disgust as he had expected, only a concern that made him too ashamed to show his face.
“Ichiro, drink some water.” She gently brought the water cup to his lips.
Ichiro Hashishita struggled to sit up, his throat dry as if it were on fire; he took the water cup and drank it all in one go, the warm liquid sliding down his esophagus, yet unable to warm his already icy cold heart.
“Minami… I…” He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but found his voice hoarse as if sandpapered.
“Teacher Nohara came yesterday.” Minami Hashishita did not look at him, just kept her head down as she gently placed a high-quality off-white business card next to the pillow on the bedside.
On it, in embossed gold lettering, was a name he could never forget in his lifetime.
—Hiroshi Nohara.
“Nohara… Teacher? Hiroshi Nohara!?”
Ichiro Hashishita’s body trembled violently; he looked at the business card, then at his wife, confusion emerging in his hollow eyes: “He… what did he come for? How could he…”
“I called Teacher Suzuki.”
Minami Hashishita’s voice was very soft, yet like a heavy hammer, it struck Ichiro Hashishita’s heart hard:
“You were really too terrifying last night, I… I didn’t know what to do, I could only think of him, so I called Teacher Suzuki. And Teacher Suzuki… he also heard your crying and howling last night, so he was very worried about you.”
Teacher Suzuki…
This title was like a key, instantly unlocking the floodgates of Ichiro Hashishita’s memory.
That senior who always had a stern face but silently took all responsibility for him when he made mistakes; that benefactor teacher who, in his most down-and-out time, promoted him from the Kanto Regional Station and gave him a Tokyo dream…
That guilt, which he had forcibly suppressed deep in his heart with jealousy and ambition, erupted at this moment like a breached flood!
“Woo… wah—!”
He could no longer hold on; this man who had struggled in the workplace for half his life, propping up the last bit of pitiful male dignity, buried his head deep into his arms like a child, letting out suppressed and painful sobbing wails.
In that crying, there was regret, unwillingness, hatred for his own stupidity, and even more, boundless despair for the future.
Minami Hashishita said nothing, just reached out her hand, gently stroking his back which trembled nonstop from violent sobbing, one pat at a time.
That mature and beautiful yet fatigued face also had red eye sockets, with some tears welling up.
She knew Ichiro Hashishita had indeed done wrong.
And…
She had almost done wrong too.
Fortunately, Ichiro Hashishita had met a good benefactor teacher. And she had met a true gentleman.
Finally, the crying subsided.
Ichiro Hashishita lifted that tear-streaked face, and with a nearly self-abusive force, slapped himself hard twice.
“Slap! Slap!”
The crisp sounds were especially piercing in the quiet room.
He picked up the telephone, fingers trembling as he dialed that number which was once most familiar to him but now felt as heavy as a thousand catties.
The call was quickly answered.
“…Teacher… Suzuki.” He choked up, managing only the title before he could say no more.
“…It’s Ichiro.” On the other end, Kiyoto Suzuki let out a long sigh filled with heartache.
He did not scold or blame.
“Ichiro, in this life, everyone makes mistakes. Making a mistake isn’t scary. What’s scary is not having the courage to stand up and start over.”
“Nohara-kun… he came over last night. He told me, as long as you are willing to bow your head, he is willing… to give you one more chance.”
“Give Nohara-kun a call. He wants you to go to his classroom to find him.”
The call ended, and Ichiro Hashishita’s tears silently slid down his cheeks.
He looked at the business card on the bedside, the name on it seeming to carry a scorching heat he dared not face directly.
In the end, he still reached out and picked up that thin business card that would decide the fate of the rest of his life.
……
“So, Section Chief, you really mean to forgive that traitor?”
【Hiroshi Nohara · Special Production Team】’s office, Hoshi Minamimura’s voice was filled with incredulous anger.
Beside him, Roji Hase and Yō Kitagawa’s faces were also filled with the same confusion and unwillingness.
Just moments ago, they had heard with their own ears their omnipotent section chief, in a calm tone over the phone, tell that traitor they hated to the bone: “One hour later, come to my office.”
That Ichiro Hashishita who had the nerve to call Hiroshi Nohara!
“He betrayed you! Betrayed Section Chief Suzuki! Sold all our effort to that bastard Iwata!”
Roji Hase also stood up excitedly: “A person like this doesn’t deserve forgiveness at all!”
“Exactly!”
Yō Kitagawa also clenched her small fists, those always sparkling big eyes full of anger: “We finally crushed Iwata’s Classroom, and now if you bring him back, what if he betrays you again?”
Hiroshi Nohara looked at these three young people filled with righteous indignation, but his face only showed a helpless smile.
He set down the coffee cup in his hand, gesturing for them to sit.
“You all are still too young.” His voice was gentle, yet carried a composure that saw through everything: “Do you think I’m letting him come back just for simple forgiveness?”
“Isn’t that it?” The three said in unison.
“Of course not.” Hiroshi Nohara leaned back in the chair back, fingers lightly tapping the desktop, making regular soft sounds: “Let me ask you, how is Ichiro Hashishita’s ability?”
The three exchanged glances, though unhappy in their hearts, they still had to admit it.
“…It’s decent.” Hoshi Minamimura said somewhat reluctantly: “After all, he’s someone who became a fourth-class director at thirty-five, his fundamentals are solid. Back in Suzuki’s Classroom, a lot of the execution-level work was indeed carried by him.”
Hiroshi Nohara nodded: “Exactly. He has ability, just blinded by jealousy. And now, after a fall from heaven to hell, abandoned ruthlessly by the new master he defected to, spat on by everyone at the television station. Do you think, in this situation, if I pull him back, what will he do?”
The three were stunned again.
“He will… be grateful to you?” Yō Kitagawa probed.
“That’s right, that’s why I’m willing to give him a chance.”
A meaningful arc hooked at the corner of Hiroshi Nohara’s mouth: “Because besides here, across the entire neon, no second television station would dare hire a director with a betrayal on his resume who botched production of such a hot IP so badly. He has no way out.”
“And…”
Hiroshi Nohara’s gaze sharpened:
“Did you forget the contract we signed with the television station? 《An Shizhi》 third season fails, and exclusive production rights for the next two seasons will be forcibly reclaimed at one yen.”
“I’m planning to restart production of 《An Shizhi》 fourth and fifth seasons. And Ichiro Hashishita, who participated fully in the first two seasons, knows all the processes, and is now loyal to me, is undoubtedly the best line producer candidate for this project.”
“As for you three…”
He looked at those three faces shifting from shock to realization, his smile deepening: “Your task is to follow me in supervising Ichiro Hashishita, and remake 《An Shizhi》 fourth and fifth seasons!”
These words were like a key, instantly unlocking all the confusion in the three’s hearts.
They looked at this strategic planning young section chief with worship.
They finally understood.
Their section chief was never a soft-hearted pushover.
He was only playing a shocking grand chess game, from a height they could not comprehend, enough to decide everyone’s destiny!
……
One hour later, when Ichiro Hashishita’s distraught figure appeared at the office doorway.
Everyone instinctively stopped their work.
Those gazes cast toward him—icy cold, contempt—like invisible knives, slicing his pitiful self-esteem to ribbons.
He looked at no one, just kept his head down, taking heavy steps, one by one, to stand before that young man calmly watching him.
Then, under everyone’s stunned gazes.
“Thud—!”
His knees gave way, and he knelt heavily!
A standard dogeza, forehead pressed dead against the icy cold floor!
“Teacher… Nohara!”
His voice came from under that lowered head, hoarse and filled with endless regret: “I… I was wrong! I’m not human! I was blinded by lard! I… I’m sorry to you! Sorry to Teacher Suzuki! Sorry to everyone!”
Tears surged from the corners of his eyes, mixing with snot, dripping onto the smooth floor, staining a small pathetic wet spot.
“I beg you! Give me one more chance! I… I’m willing to be your ox and horse! My life from now on is yours!”
The office was dead silent.
Everyone was completely shocked by this dramatic scene.
Hiroshi Nohara did not tell him to get up immediately.
He just quietly watched until this man had thoroughly crushed all his dignity and pride on this floor.
Only then did he slowly speak, voice calm, no hint of joy or anger.
“Get up.”
“From today, you are still the line producer of my Nohara Classroom. In charge of the 《An Shizhi》 fourth and fifth season restart project.”
He paused, a flash of icy chill in those clear eyes.
“I’ll say it once, Hashishita-kun.”
“I don’t keep wastes here, and even less traitors.”
“Yes! Yes! I understand! I swear! I, Ichiro Hashishita, will absolutely never betray your trust in this life!”
Ichiro Hashishita kowtowed three times heavily against the floor, the sounds muffled and filled with the relief of aftermath of a disaster.
Hiroshi Nohara looked at him like this, the bit of compassion in his heart from Kiyoto Suzuki long vanished without a trace.
In its place was the peace of mind of a chess player seeing a chess piece return to position.
Of course he knew that this move of his would seem utterly stupid in the eyes of Masao Iwata and Toshihide Takada.
But so what?
What he wanted was for them to underestimate him, to think he was just a sentimental pushover.
Then, at the most unexpected time, use this chess piece they personally discarded to deliver the most fatal strike.
“Knock knock knock—”
At that moment, the office door was knocked again.
Deputy Director Asumi’s intellectual beauty secretary, with a respectful smile on her face, appeared at the doorway.
“Teacher Nohara, Deputy Director Asumi asks you to come over.” She said respectfully, and added: “Deputy Director Takada and Section Chief Iwata are also there.”
“Oh?” Hiroshi Nohara’s brow lifted, a playful arc at the corner of his mouth.
Speak of the devil and he shall appear.
……
In Deputy Director Asumi’s office, the atmosphere was completely different from the tense confrontation Hiroshi Nohara had expected.
Toshihide Takada and Asumi, these two number two persons from different factions, were now like old friends meeting after many years, sitting on the sofa, sipping fragrant tea, chatting amiably.
And that Masao Iwata who should have been a lost dog was now meekly kneeling by the tea table, carefully brewing matcha for everyone with a rather exquisite tea set, his posture as humble as a professionally trained tea boy.
Seeing Hiroshi Nohara enter, he even stood up first and deeply bowed to him, his posture extremely humble.
“Teacher Nohara, you’ve arrived.”
“…”
Hiroshi Nohara looked at this scene full of magical realism, somewhat stunned in his heart.
But his face still wore that mild smile.
“Deputy Director Takada, Deputy Director Asumi, Section Chief Iwata, good afternoon.” He greeted.
“Hahaha, Hiroshi-kun is here, quick sit, quick sit!” Asumi nodded enthusiastically, his elegant face filled with irrepressible amusement.
He looked at Hiroshi Nohara and said in a tone nearly boastful:
“Hiroshi-kun, perfect timing. Deputy Director Takada and Section Chief Iwata came today specifically to… apologize to you, and to invite you, the father of 《An Shizhi》, to come out of retirement and save our ace IP that’s in dire straits!”
“After all, the board of directors is very angry that such an excellent brand IP failed so badly. For this, our Deputy Director Toshihide Takada even received severe questioning. This is just too bad!”
As he spoke, at an angle the two couldn’t see, he winked slyly at Hiroshi Nohara.
The smugness and satisfaction in that look nearly overflowed the screen.
At this moment, victory and defeat were decided, offense and defense swapped.
It was the Kanto Faction’s turn to sit at this card table, leisurely appreciating the opponents’ wonderful face-changing performance.
