Chapter 169: New Year Return To Omagari City! The Nohara Family Home’s Sukiyaki Awaits
Hiroshi Nohara looked at Eiji Kurosawa’s weathered face, remembering how, at the press conference earlier, he had pushed all the credit onto him, even demeaning his decades of accumulated reputation to elevate a young junior. The emotion, a mix of gratitude and sorrow, surged into his heart like a tide.
“Director Kurosawa, why… why go through all this trouble?” Hiroshi Nohara asked softly, his voice carrying a subtle hoarseness.
He knew that Kurosawa’s words, though seemingly casual, were actually using his thirty-year-old golden reputation to pave a smooth path to the future for him.
This kindness weighed more than a thousand pounds.
Hearing this, Eiji Kurosawa smiled. He slowly reached out and gently patted Hiroshi Nohara’s shoulder. The gesture was like that of a kind father comforting his most proud disciple.
“Hiroshi-kun, you were a genius from the start. I just spoke the truth, what trouble is there?” His voice carried a sense of nonchalance and relief, as if he had let go of all his past obsessions.
Just then, the seven actors playing the 《 Seven Samurai 》 also approached. They looked at Eiji Kurosawa with a mixture of regret and admiration on their faces.
“Indeed, Director Kurosawa,” said Taiji Miyoshi, the veteran actor playing Kanbei, with a long sigh, his tone filled with reluctance. “We all know that you value Hiroshi-kun’s boundless future potential, which is why you are willing to play the supporting role, handing over the reputation you’ve built over decades. We juniors truly cannot match your magnanimity.”
“That’s right, Director Kurosawa, you are sacrificing yourself to elevate Hiroshi-kun,” Shunpei Makino, who played Chiyo, had a face full of emotion.
Hearing this, Eiji Kurosawa just shook his head. “Sacrifice? Elevate? You young lads are still too green.”
He chuckled lightly, his tone tinged with a hint of disdain. “Let me say it again: this movie, from beginning to end, is solely the work of Nohara-kun. From the script, to the storyboards, to every shot on set, every direction, it was all handled by him, single-handedly.”
“I, this old man, was merely… helping him out, holding the nominal title of co-director. He is the true chief director, the person in charge. I’m just stating the facts, why is everyone so regretful?”
Eiji Kurosawa’s words were indeed decisive.
Hiroshi Nohara remained silent.
He knew Eiji Kurosawa’s straightforward nature, and he also knew how immense the affirmation was behind his candor.
This affirmation was more precious than any honor.
Until the seven “samurai” and Eiji Kurosawa had left, Asumi slowly walked over. He looked at Hiroshi Nohara and said softly, “Hiroshi-kun, you don’t need to feel indebted to Director Kurosawa. This matter was discussed among us. Director Kurosawa, he’s a stubborn old man, he absolutely refuses charity from others. The reason he said all that is because he truly saw the talent in you that surpasses his own.”
Asumi looked at Hiroshi Nohara, his eyes filled with trust and anticipation.
“Just like now, I still believe Hiroshi-kun has surpassed me!”
Eiji Kurosawa’s voice suddenly came from the doorway. He had returned, a hint of nonchalant smile on his face. “I’ve spent my entire life making samurai films. I used to think I had captured all the glory, the tragedy, and the helplessness of the samurai. But after seeing your 《 Seven Samurai 》, I realized that what I had made was merely a limited, lesser path focused solely on the samurai themselves.”
“And you…”
Eiji Kurosawa’s gaze fell on Hiroshi Nohara, full of admiration. “What you have made is a samurai film that deconstructs an era, deconstructs humanity, and directly addresses all beings. This is the true great path. Your innovation and bold ideas in this film have surpassed me.”
“Senior Kurosawa!” Hiroshi Nohara bowed deeply to the stubborn old man once more.
Eiji Kurosawa’s words were the highest affirmation for him.
“So, Hiroshi-kun,” Eiji Kurosawa patted Hiroshi Nohara’s shoulder again. His weathered face was now filled with a sense of release. “This old man should retire. From now on, I plan to slowly make films that I like, no longer constrained by future achievements, nor pursuing that illusory fame and fortune.”
He paused, his eyes twinkling with light. “As for the future, it’s all in your hands. You, young man, are the hope of our Japanese film industry. Go for it!”
“Oh, right.” Eiji Kurosawa smiled mysteriously as if he had just remembered something. “I saw the proposal for 《 The Tale of Hachiko 》 that you mentioned to me earlier. It’s very interesting. I will fully support you on the board of directors along with Asumi. I want to see what other surprises you can bring us.”
“This…” Another wave of warmth washed over Hiroshi Nohara.
This was not just Eiji Kurosawa’s verbal promise, but also his final act of paving a magnificent road to the future for him.
“Thank you, Director Kurosawa,” Hiroshi Nohara said sincerely.
Eiji Kurosawa waved his hand and left again, his demeanor as carefree as before.
Asumi watched his retreating figure, then looked at Hiroshi Nohara, a look of emotion on his face.
“Yes, Hiroshi-kun,” Asumi sighed. He walked to the window and looked down at the dazzling Tokyo night view below. “Now, it’s up to 《 Seven Samurai 》 to see what kind of record it creates during its three-month premiere run.”
He paused, his tone filled with excitement. “But no matter what, we’ve fought a beautiful victory. When we return after New Year’s, we’ll have a celebration banquet, also to mark the beginning of the new year.”
（ Please don’t dwell on the temporal inconsistencies… mainly, Japan’s Christmas is seven days before Japan’s Spring Festival, but I didn’t have that concept and wrote it as our Spring Festival. Oh well, a minor issue, please ignore it ）
“Yes, New Year’s,” Hiroshi Nohara finally realized with a start that, without even noticing, the Japanese New Year was quietly approaching.
This year, filled with challenges and opportunities, was finally coming to a close. And a new chapter was just beginning.
…
Tokyo’s winter always carried a certain refined coolness, as if this jungle of steel needed a moment of stillness in the flood of time to cleanse the clamor and vanity clinging to its soul.
When Hiroshi Nohara finished work at Tokyo Television Station and opened the door to his apartment, a familiar warmth enveloped him, mixed with the faint scent of Misae, like a gentle net, instantly pulling him out of the day’s battles and into the mortal world.
The living room lights were still bright, and a nameless late-night program was playing on the television, though the volume was turned down low, as if afraid to disturb this moment of tranquility.
Misae was sitting on the floor, two large suitcases spread out before her, packed with clothes and various bottles and jars, like a small department store.
She was wearing a soft home sweater, her hair casually tied up, revealing her bare neck. Her face, always full of energy and charmingly naive, now carried a subtle seriousness and focus.
“Misae?” Hiroshi Nohara was slightly taken aback. He took off his jacket and hung it on the coat rack in the entryway, making a soft sound.
Hearing the sound, Misae looked up. The moment her bright eyes saw him, they instantly lit up with surprise.
Like a startled kitten, she leaped up from the floor and threw herself into his arms.
“Hiroshi-kun! You’re finally back! Are you tired?” She tilted her head, nuzzling her forehead against his chest, her voice with a hint of playful scolding, yet filled with uncontainable concern.
She knew about the public pressure Hiroshi Nohara had been facing recently, and she had been silently supporting him all along.
Hiroshi Nohara knew all of this.
Hiroshi Nohara gently stroked her soft hair, breathing in the familiar scent of shampoo and faint body fragrance. All his fatigue vanished at that moment.
He chuckled softly and shook his head. “I’m fine. How about you, why are you still packing so late?”
Hearing this, Misae’s pretty little face instantly puffed up like an angry pufferfish.
She wriggled out of his embrace, pouting, and pointed to the two overstuffed suitcases on the floor. Her tone was one of justified grievance. “Of course I’m packing! New Year’s is coming soon, and I have to go back to Kumamoto Prefecture, of course!”
“Back to Kumamoto?” Hiroshi Nohara’s eyebrows slightly raised, a hint of confusion in his clear eyes.
He looked at Misae’s matter-of-fact expression and suddenly understood.
Yes, New Year’s.
For the past few months, he had been immersed in work, from 《 An Shizhi 》 to 《 World of the Strange 》, to 《 Super Change Change Change 》 and 《 Seven Samurai 》, each project had been like a massive mountain, pressing down on him, making it hard to breathe.
He was accustomed to Tokyo’s fast pace, to the all-nighter busy schedules, and even to dedicating all holidays to work.
He had forgotten that although Misae had long adapted to the prosperity and hustle of Tokyo, deep down, she was still the most simple and pure Japanese girl from Kumamoto Prefecture.
“I’m sorry, Misae,” Hiroshi Nohara said with a bitter smile and a self-deprecating shake of his head. “I’ve been so busy I’ve gone senile and forgotten these things. Now that you mention it, I just remembered, we aren’t married yet, and according to custom, you should indeed return to your parents’ home for the New Year.”
Hearing this, Misae’s puffed-up little face calmed down slightly. She walked over to the sofa and patted the spot next to her, gesturing for Hiroshi Nohara to sit down as well.
“Good that you know!” she huffed lightly, her tone with a hint of childish pride. “But speaking of which, Hiroshi-kun, how do you plan to get back? By plane? I’ve already bought my ticket!”
Hiroshi Nohara sat down next to her, feeling her warmth and a sense of peace in his heart.
He reached out and gently put his arm around her waist, letting her little head rest happily on his shoulder.
“Plane?” Hiroshi Nohara chuckled lightly, a playful glint in his clear eyes. “Kumamoto Prefecture is on Kyushu Island, southwest of Japan. It’s quite far from Tokyo, so flying is indeed convenient. But me… I plan to drive back.”
“Drive?” Hearing this, Misae’s big, dark eyes widened instantly, her face showing disbelief and shock. “Hiroshi-kun, you’re not joking, are you?! It’s so late, how long would it take to drive from Tokyo to Akita Prefecture?! And you have work tomorrow!”
“Silly girl,” Hiroshi Nohara chuckled and pinched her little nose, his tone full of affection. “Who said I have work tomorrow? I have fifteen days off for New Year’s! Besides, Omari City is closer to Tokyo than Akita Prefecture. I plan to use these few days to rest properly and visit my parents. And, to advance my ‘Akita Dog Project’ further.”
“‘Akita Dog Project’?” Hearing this, Misae’s big eyes were instantly filled with curiosity. “What is that?”
Hiroshi Nohara just smiled mysteriously, not elaborating. He knew it wasn’t time yet to reveal the ultimate weapon, “The Tale of Hachiko.”
“Oh! You’re being secretive again!” Misae huffed in dissatisfaction but didn’t press further.
She knew that Hiroshi-kun’s secrets always held surprises.
She dragged two large suitcases from the floor and said to Hiroshi Nohara with a smile, “Hiroshi-kun, you’ve been busy with work lately and haven’t had time to buy anything. These are gifts I prepared for you, new jewelry and new clothes for Uncle and Aunt. Take a look, do you like them?”
Hiroshi Nohara was slightly taken aback.
He looked at the carefully selected gifts in the suitcases, the glittering jewelry, the well-tailored new clothes. The thoughtfulness and consideration from his lover flowed like a warm current through his heart, which had been numbed by work.
He then realized that he had… he had forgotten to prepare New Year’s gifts.
All his attention had been on work, on those grand narratives, but he had neglected the most important person beside him.
The embarrassment from his “carelessness” instantly spread across his face.
Seeing his flustered expression, Misae’s bright eyes suddenly filled with mischievous amusement.
Her tone carried a hint of smugness. “What? Hiroshi-kun, are you moved by me? You look so dazed, did you forget to prepare gifts again?”
Hiroshi Nohara’s cheeks instantly turned bright red.
He wanted to retort, but he couldn’t utter a single word.
Seeing his awkwardness, as if he wished he could disappear into the ground, Misae finally couldn’t help but let out a burst of laughter.
She laughed heartily, her clear laughter like a string of silver bells, echoing in the warm living room for a long time.
“Okay, okay, I won’t tease you anymore!” Misae finally stopped laughing. She reached out and gently patted his chest, her tone full of understanding and tenderness. “I know you’re busy. So, I already prepared them for you. I bought these gifts with my own salary!”
“With your own salary?” Hearing this, Hiroshi Nohara’s already red cheeks turned even redder, as if they were about to bleed.
He knew that although Misae was currently the president of Future Manga Company, most of her income came from the royalties of 《 Yu Yu Hakusho 》. And 《 Yu Yu Hakusho 》, from beginning to end, was the brainchild of Hiroshi Nohara.
Her words, while seemingly extricating him from an awkward situation, were actually… actually reminding him in the gentlest way possible that he, the “genius,” also had a “careless” side in life.
“Yes! With my own salary!” Misae proudly raised her eyebrows, her bright eyes sparkling with the pride and confidence of a businesswoman. “Hiroshi-kun, don’t underestimate me! I, Misae, am now the proud president of Future Manga Company! A mere New Year’s gift is something I can afford!”
“And…” she paused, her tone with a hint of mystery. “Let me tell you, Hiroshi-kun, I’ve also secretly saved some ‘pocket money’ for you recently! When it’s your birthday, I’ll give you a big surprise!”
Hiroshi Nohara looked at Misae’s face, full of pride and charming naivete. All his embarrassment and awkwardness vanished at that moment.
He reached out and gently pulled Misae’s little head into his embrace.
“Thank you, Misae,” Hiroshi Nohara said softly, his voice slightly hoarse but full of sincerity.
She truly was the fated Mrs. Nohara.
“Silly,” Misae huffed lightly, nuzzling her little head against his chest, her voice full of contentment. “I’m your Hiroshi-kun’s wife, it’s only right that I do these things for you.”
The two leaned against each other, enjoying this moment of warmth and tranquility.
Outside the window, the night grew deeper, and the Tokyo neon lights, like stars fallen to earth, shimmered with captivating radiance.
However, in this dazzling and chaotic city, this small apartment was like a warm harbor, carrying the purest happiness of two people in love.
“Alright, alright, Hiroshi-kun,” Misae finally broke free from his embrace. She glanced at the clock on the wall, a hint of urgency appearing on her face. “It’s getting late, I have to catch my flight! Hurry and take me to the airport!”
Hiroshi Nohara nodded. He stood up, picked up the car keys, and a gentle smile bloomed on his face again. “Let’s go, my Madam President. I’ll take you to the airport.”
…
Tokyo Narita International Airport was brightly lit and bustling with people.
Countless travelers from all over the world, dragging bags and luggage, shuttled through this giant steel beast, their faces filled with anticipation for the holidays and longing for their families.
Hiroshi Nohara saw Misae to the boarding gate. They exchanged a smile, everything unsaid.
“Hiroshi-kun, be careful on the road,” Misae stood on tiptoe and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. Her bright eyes were filled with reluctance and concern. “Say hello to Uncle and Aunt for me when you get to Akita. And remember to call me!”
“Don’t worry, Misae,” Hiroshi Nohara chuckled and stroked her head, his clear eyes filled with tenderness for his beloved. “You too, be careful on your way. Say hello to Uncle and Aunt for me when you get to Kumamoto. And remember to call me!”
They smiled at each other again, then, under each other’s gaze, they slowly turned and headed towards their respective journeys.
Misae’s figure gradually disappeared behind the large glass door of the boarding gate.
Hiroshi Nohara stood in place until that door completely blocked her from his sight.
He let out a long sigh, tinged with a subtle melancholy.
This moment of separation was for a longer reunion.
He knew that what he had to do was to constantly grow stronger, constantly break through in this era filled with challenges and opportunities, and build a solid and warm harbor for himself and Misae, for their future, capable of withstanding any storm.
He turned and walked towards the parking lot with steady steps.
The black Toyota Crown, like a phantom, silently merged into Tokyo’s never-ending traffic flow.
Inside the car, Hiroshi Nohara drove with one hand, while the other gently rested on the spot where Misae had just leaned.
The lingering warmth of his beloved flowed like a warm current through his heart, which had been hardened by work into a solid stone.
He knew that what awaited him ahead was not only the familiar land of Akita Prefecture, but also his lovely family, and those New Year plans he had already mapped out, full of infinite possibilities.
Northbound all the way.
Outside the car window, the Tokyo neon lights gradually receded, replaced by the silence of the countryside and the brilliance of the stars.
…
Late at night, as the black Toyota Crown finally drove into the familiar countryside of Omari City, countless brilliant fireworks had already bloomed in the sky.
“Crackling—”
The fireworks exploded in the night sky, illuminating the entire Nohara family home.
At the doorway, Hiroshi Nohara’s parents, Ginnosuke Nohara and Tsuru Nohara, and his elder brother, Hiroshi Nohara, had been waiting for a long time.
Hearing the car, they couldn’t wait to rush out of the house, their faces filled with longing and joy for their family who had returned after a long absence.
“Hiroshi! You’re finally back!” Ginnosuke Nohara, this always energetic old man, was the first to rush over and hug Hiroshi Nohara. His gruff voice was filled with uncontrollable excitement. “You kid, coming back so late! Were you fooling around in Tokyo again?!”
“Dad, what are you talking about!” Hiroshi Nohara said with a wry smile. He patted his father’s back, his tone full of helplessness. “I just dropped Misae off at the airport and rushed home non-stop!”
“Where’s Misae?!” Tsuru Nohara, this always gentle and loving mother, also came over. She looked at the empty back seat behind Hiroshi Nohara, a hint of confusion on her face. “Why didn’t she come back with you?”
“Mom, Misae went back to Kumamoto Prefecture,” Hiroshi Nohara explained. “We’re not married yet, and according to custom, she has to return to her parents’ home for the New Year.”
“Oh, I see,” Tsuru Nohara finally understood.
After spending so much time together, she had already considered Misae her true daughter-in-law who had already married into the family.
“Hiroshi! You’re finally back!” Hiroshi Nohara, this always honest and simple elder brother, also came over. He heavily patted Hiroshi Nohara’s shoulder. His dark face was filled with longing and pride for his younger brother. “Come in! Mom made your favorite sukiyaki! And, those Akita dogs are waiting for you to see them!”
“Yes! Come in quickly! It’s cold outside!” Ginnosuke Nohara also held Hiroshi Nohara’s hand and led him into the house.
The family chattered and laughed, full of warmth.
Hiroshi Nohara looked at the warm, lively scene before him. All his fatigue and worries vanished at that moment.
This was his true harbor.
This was the ultimate destination for all his efforts.
‘Crackling—’
‘Whoosh!’
Outside the house, fireworks continued to explode in the night sky, their brilliant light reflecting on Hiroshi Nohara’s handsome and calm face.
The corners of his mouth curved into a gentle arc.
He knew that this New Year would undoubtedly be a brand new beginning filled with warmth and hope.
And the sukiyaki inside the house was already bubbling on the stove, sending up a tempting white mist.
The steam, like a thin mist in early spring, wafted over the dining table, casting a gentle glow on the simple wooden furniture of the Nohara family home.
Thinly sliced wagyu beef slices tumbled in the boiling broth, emitting an alluring sizzle, creating a mouthwatering tableau with vibrant green cabbage, tender mushrooms, and chewy konjac threads.
Beside them, crystal-clear raw eggs sat quietly in small bowls, waiting to be whisked into dipping sauce, their pure color seemingly holding the most primal respect for life.
Hiroshi Nohara generously took out several bottles of sake from the cabinet and brought over some iced beer, the bottles gleaming invitingly in the dim light.
“Dad, have some Juyondai sake. Hiroshi, I know you don’t like sake, so we’ll drink some beer together.”
He smiled and handed the sake to his father, and the beer to Hiroshi Nohara, his brotherly rough care evident.
The family sat around the table, chopsticks weaving through the pot, picking up pieces of ingredients soaked in broth.
“Delicious, delicious! Although it can’t compare to the Tokyo wagyu Hiroshi brought back, our local beef from Omari City is also delicious!”
Ginnosuke Nohara chewed the beef heartily, letting out a sigh of satisfaction. Tsuru Nohara, with her eyes full of unyielding affection, carefully placed food onto Hiroshi Nohara’s plate.
“You! Eat a little less, let Hiroshi eat more!” Tsuru Nohara glanced at him and, using her chopsticks, put more beef on Hiroshi Nohara’s plate.
“Yes, it’s delicious.” Hiroshi Nohara smiled and put the beef, coated in egg, into his mouth. That warmth and sweetness instantly dispelled the fatigue of his long journey and washed away all the restlessness brought by the Fame and Fortune Arena of Tokyo.
He looked at his family’s flushed faces, rosy from the heat, and listened to their casual chat about farm chores and neighborhood gossip. A long-lost sense of groundedness welled up in his heart.
Outside the window, fireworks bloomed again, illuminating the snow-covered countryside.
Hiroshi Nohara knew that no matter how much of a stir he made outside, no matter how many miracles he created, this dining table, enveloped by Worldly Life and familial love, was his eternal harbor, the starting point from which he drew Power to set off again.
Those grand narratives about Class and Era had, at this moment, transformed into the food simmering in the pot, into every bit of Warmth shared with his family.
PS: Three updates today, I’m organizing the outline…
