Chapter 156: Bidding Farewell To The Oyama Family! Off To Submit 《seven Samurai》!
Two days later, it was still that futuristic Tokyo Station.
But this time, the atmosphere on the platform had lost the initial restraint and unfamiliarity of their first meeting, replaced by a laden reluctance and warm farewell sentiment.
“Oh my, Hiroshi-kun, this… this is too extravagant! Really too extravagant!”
Takao Oyama, the prospective mother-in-law, looked at the several shopping bags piled almost into a small mountain at her feet, printed with logos of major luxury brands; her face, always carrying a gentle smile, was filled with complex emotions.
After all, Misae and Hiroshi Nohara weren’t married yet, and she and her husband, as prospective in-laws, had received so many good things from Hiroshi Nohara.
It was inevitably a bit awkward on the face.
“Oh, this is after all Nohara’s heartfelt intention, and it’s very good.” But Yoshiharu Oyama carefully adjusted the collar of the handmade suit that had just been custom-made at the most famous tailor shop in Ginza, the satisfaction and fondness in his eyes almost overflowing.
Such a good suit indeed matched his slicked-back hair perfectly, looking quite dignified and imposing.
So he was very satisfied with Nohara: “When we go to Kumamoto, we’ll entertain Nohara well too, won’t we?” He offered an explanation.
But Takao Oyama glanced at him and said nothing.
Such expensive gifts.
If they really wanted to give Hiroshi Nohara gifts of equal value, they’d have to dip into the savings in their bankbook!
Especially when Takao Oyama glanced at the two bottles of top-tier “Juyondai” Ryusen sake that were carefully packaged, shock appeared in her eyes.
It was said that just these two bottles of sake were enough for half a year’s pension!
“Yes! Uncle and Aunt being willing to entrust Misae to me is already the greatest kindness to me! Misae is, to me, the greatest gift in life!”
Hiroshi Nohara smiled and spoke up at this moment.
And he deeply bowed to the couple, Yoshiharu Oyama and Takao Oyama, his posture as humble as an excellent student listening to a mentor’s teachings: “Misae is the love of my heart, immeasurable by any value. The gifts I bought for Uncle and Aunt are mere mortal goods, and only thus can they express my true feelings for Misae, as well as my sincere respect and reverence for Uncle and Aunt.”
This perfectly timed flattery made Yoshiharu Oyama feel utterly comfortable, and all the seriousness and dignity on his usually stern face melted away like ice and snow in this moment.
The expression on his face was filled with immense satisfaction.
But amid this warm atmosphere of “father-in-law and son-in-law harmony,” a delicate figure full of reluctance and wailing clung tightly to Hiroshi Nohara’s arm like an unshakable little tail, wailing: “Brother-in-law! Brother-in-law! I don’t want to go back to Kumamoto! I want to stay in Tokyo!”
Mogae Oyama’s big eyes were now covered in a layer of misty moisture, her pretty face filled with endless attachment to this steel forest full of prosperity and temptation.
“Tokyo is so fun! There’s good food, good drinks, and so many pretty clothes! Most importantly… there’s you, my handsome and capable brother-in-law! If I go back to Kumamoto, I’ll definitely die of boredom!”
“Rebellious girl!” Yoshiharu Oyama trembled with anger, but still pulled Mogae Nohara into the train.
The train slowly started, carrying away those gazes of gratification, reluctance, or anticipation.
Hiroshi Nohara held Misae’s hand, standing on the platform until that white steel serpent completely disappeared at the end of his line of sight.
……
The black Toyota Crown moved steadily forward in the night.
“Next year, we’ll go to Kumamoto Prefecture, your hometown, to have a look.” Hiroshi Nohara drove with one hand.
“Hiroshi-kun, next year… are we really going to Kumamoto to play?” Misae gently rested her little head on his shoulder, her voice carrying a dreamlike surprise.
“Of course.” Hiroshi Nohara smiled and nodded; he didn’t even need to check guides—memories from his previous life clearly surfaced in his mind: “Then, we’ll go to Mount Aso to see the world’s largest active volcanic crater; go to Kurokawa Onsen to soak in the legendary ‘beauty soup’ that can heal everything; and taste the most authentic horse meat sashimi, and that bowl of Kumamoto ramen that can make anyone shed tears.”
With every place name he mentioned, Misae’s beautiful big eyes shone brighter.
When he finished the last word, those obsidian-like eyes were already brimming with the sweetest longing for the future.
These were, after all, tourist spots in her hometown.
She knew this man; he wasn’t just making a promise.
He was building for her a happy future filled with love and gourmet food.
……
When the laziness unique to holidays was completely replaced by the efficient and busy urban rhythm of Monday morning, Hiroshi Nohara had already returned to sit behind that desk symbolizing his absolute power at Tokyo Television Station as department head.
He skillfully handled the mountain of reports and contracts piled up, all of which just needed a signature.
‘Ding-ling-ling—’
The black internal telephone on the desk broke the tranquility.
“Department Head.” Yō Kitagawa’s voice came from the other end: “Director Eiji Kurosawa is on the line. He’s already on the way and says he’ll arrive in fifteen minutes. He also said to prepare; he’s taking you to a… very important place.”
“A very important place?” Hiroshi Nohara’s brow imperceptibly twitched.
Fifteen minutes later, when Eiji Kurosawa’s figure appeared at the office doorway, Hiroshi Nohara finally understood what that “very important place” his counterpart meant was.
“Let’s go, Nohara-kun.” Eiji Kurosawa was not polite at all and said directly: “Yesterday I already sent the rough cut sample of 《Seven Samurai》 to ‘Eirin.’ Today is the day of the first review. There’s… someone there who’s always wanted to meet you.”
Eirin.
Neon Film Ethics Management Committee.
An seemingly unremarkable but actually absolute power organization controlling the life and death of all movies in Neon Country.
Any movie, no matter how large the investment or how strong the cast, must and can only pass this organization’s review before official release.
Otherwise, only an icy cold fate of ruthless ban awaited.
……
Tokyo Metropolis, Chuo Ward, that unassuming gray building.
There were no luxurious decorations here, only long, quiet corridors where one could hear their own heartbeat, and thick wooden doors tightly closed as if leading to another world.
Hiroshi Nohara followed Eiji Kurosawa through the maze-like corridors.
Finally, they stopped in front of a room with a “First Deliberation Room” sign.
Eiji Kurosawa didn’t knock but just nodded lightly to the two staff members at the door, dressed in crisp suits with solemn expressions: “I’m Eiji Kurosawa. I have an advance appointment for today’s film submission and review.”
When those two staff members clearly saw the visitor, a trace of heartfelt awe instantly appeared on their faces.
“Director Kurosawa.”
They greeted him and thus opened the door to the core of power for them.
The room was very quiet, with no luxurious decorations, only a set of antique rosewood sofa and a distant landscape painting on the wall.
A man was sitting at the desk handling documents.
He wore a simple dark gray suit, of medium build, looking like the most ordinary, commonplace elderly civil servant.
But when he slowly raised his head, Hiroshi Nohara’s heart uncontrollably contracted sharply.
Hideaki Fujiwara!
Deputy Minister of Tokyo Metropolitan Government Publicity Department, one of the actual handlers of the Tokyo Metropolitan Area plan, and also… Neon Film Ethics Management Committee’s standing committee member for film review!
“Fujiwara-sama.”
Eiji Kurosawa, this famous director who could make any producer fall silent outside, now bent his waist deeply toward that man like the most humble student.
“Disturbing your tranquility.”
“Oh?”
A trace of undisguised surprise appeared on Hideaki Fujiwara’s always calm-as-water face.
His gaze lingered for a moment on Eiji Kurosawa’s face full of respect, then fell on the young man who had also given him a standard bow.
“Nohara-kun, we meet again.” His voice carried curiosity: “I never expected that my two most valued people—one a samurai film master representing Neon Country’s national essence, the other a variety show star capable of changing the entire television industry’s landscape—would… collaborate on a movie.”
“Fujiwara-sama, you misunderstand.”
However, before Hiroshi Nohara could speak politely, Eiji Kurosawa’s straightforward voice came first.
He slowly straightened up, his weathered face written with the honesty and pride of an old-era artisan.
“This 《Seven Samurai》, from beginning to end, is entirely Nohara-kun’s work alone. From script to storyboard, to every lens and every setup on set, all handled single-handedly by him.”
“This old man just… lent a hand and took the empty title of co-director.”
“This movie’s true chief director is only one.”
He paused, and under the top bureaucrat’s gaze of surprise—who held the life and death of their work—said earnestly, word by word:
“It’s him, Hiroshi Nohara.”
“……”
This sixty-something elder, Hideaki Fujiwara, was momentarily stunned.
Looking at Eiji Kurosawa, then at the young man who had been calmly smiling from start to finish, his heart—tempered rock-hard by countless power struggles—suddenly felt overwhelmed by a ridiculous, almost unreal sensation!
After a moment, he asked in surprise: “A samurai film directed by Hiroshi Nohara, and you, Eiji Kurosawa, just a co-director who lent a hand?”
This was simply a tale from fantasy!
