sbdcsierra Chapter 258 The Reasons for Liking Kitahara Shin
Chapter 258 The Reasons for Liking Kitahara Shin
Chapter 258 The Reasons for Liking Kitahara Shin
The morning after Kitahara Shin and Nanako returned to Tokyo by Shinkansen, the two went straight back to the set of "Long Vacation".
Today we're filming one of the most iconic and memorable scenes from the entire series—the female lead, Minami Hayama, throws a green super bouncy ball down from the balcony of her third-floor apartment. Hidetoshi Sena catches it perfectly from below and then throws it back.
This seemingly simple shot involved the height of the third floor, the wind direction, and the uncontrollable trajectory of the bouncy ball's descent. The production team was prepared for dozens of takes and even had a large basket of spare bouncy balls prepared.
"It's okay, as long as I'm in the right mood, I don't mind tossing it as many times as I need." Kitahara Shin stood in the street scene downstairs, tossing the green bouncy ball in his hand, his tone relaxed.
Filming has officially begun.
Nanako leaned on the balcony railing on the third floor, exuding a languid and dependent air typical of adults, and gently tossed the bouncy ball down.
The green sphere traced a parabola in the air.
Kitahara Shin leaned against the railing downstairs, not moving an inch.
He tilted his head slightly, his gaze precisely locked onto the rapidly falling ball. Just a fraction of a second before the ball was about to hit the ground, his right hand casually reached out, and with a soft "snap," the playful bouncy ball was firmly caught in his palm.
The entire movement was fluid and graceful, exuding an unadorned coolness and relaxation.
Immediately afterwards, he raised his arm, and the bouncy ball slammed heavily on the ground. With its terrifying rebound force, it flew back to the third-floor balcony with perfect precision, like a green lightning bolt, and landed steadily in Nanako's outstretched hands.
"Excellent! As expected of Kitahara-kun!" the director shouted excitedly from behind the monitor.
The staff on site gasped in astonishment. This terrifying control over the trajectory of movement couldn't be achieved through mere acting skills; it was entirely due to Kitahara Shin's abnormally strong physical abilities and lightning-fast reflexes.
On the third-floor balcony, Nanako held the bouncy ball she had lost and found, her eyes filled with undisguised admiration. She flashed a big, slightly silly, bright smile at Kitahara Shin downstairs. Her somewhat clumsy, straightforward reaction perfectly matched the impulsive yet sincere qualities of "Hayama Minami" in the script.
In another corner of the set, Matsu Takako sat quietly in a folding chair, holding a script in her hands, but her gaze kept drifting between Kitahara Shin and Nanako.
As another important female character in the drama, Takako Matsu plays "Ryoko Okuzawa," who is the junior of the male protagonist, Hidetoshi Sena, and also the white moonlight he has secretly loved for many years. In the early part of the script, due to his introverted and inferiority complex, Hidetoshi Sena never dared to confess to the outstanding Ryoko, and the two were filled with an extremely restrained, even somewhat cowardly, push-and-pull dynamic.
As Matsu Takako looked down at the man who had just displayed amazing athletic talent but had now quickly concealed his brilliance to fit the plot and transformed into a "gentle pianist," a strange ripple stirred deep within her heart.
If Kitahara-senpai in real life were really as introverted, fragile, and in need of guidance and protection as Sena in the script, how wonderful that would be.
But Matsu Takako knew all too well that it was just a delusion. The real Kitahara Shin was a tyrannical media empire wielding immense capital and wielding extremely ruthless power. He was a million times more powerful than Sena in the script.
This stark contrast filled Matsu Takako with awe, yet also a touch of regret.
Sometimes, in the quiet of the night, she would secretly wonder: if she had met him a few years earlier, if she had met him before his entertainment empire was established, would things have been different?
"What are you thinking about? You seem so lost in thought."
A steady voice interrupted Matsu Takako's thoughts.
Kitahara Shin had somehow walked to the rest area, sat down on the chair next to her, and casually unscrewed a bottle of mineral water.
Matsu Takako was startled, her cheeks instantly flushing crimson. She hurriedly closed the script, stammering, "N-nothing. I was just thinking about the next scene."
Because Kitahara Shin is usually surrounded by the lively Nanako on set, Matsu Takako rarely has the opportunity to sit alone with him like this.
She took a deep breath, mustered her courage, and asked a question that had been lingering in her mind while reading the script.
"Kitahara-senpai, do you think it was inevitable that Sena and Hayama Minami would end up together?" Matsu Takako tilted her head slightly, her eyes filled with the earnestness and stubbornness unique to her age. "I always feel that the script arranged too many inexplicable coincidences, almost as if it was just forcibly creating dramatic conflict. In the real world, would two people with such different personalities and ages really have such an outcome?"
Kitahara Shin took a sip of water, looked at the girl in front of him with eyes full of thirst for knowledge, and chuckled softly.
"That's hard to say." He leaned back in his chair, his tone calm. "The real world is often far more fantastical than any TV drama. As for whether it's inevitable, as an actor, I can't give a definitive answer."
He turned his head, looked at the busy crew on set, and added calmly, "Besides, even if the TV series finishes airing, no one says that's the final ending. Maybe they'll still argue over trivial things in the future, maybe they'll even break up, nobody can say for sure. What we need to do now is just to bring this brief, beautiful slice of life from the script to life."
Matsu Takako fell into deep thought after hearing these words.
She secretly raised her eyes and sized up the man beside her.
Nineteen-year-old Matsu Takako was at the purest and most beautiful age of a girl. Her skin was fair and delicate, and her unadorned face exuded a scholarly air untouched by worldly corruption.
At this moment, her clear, doe-like eyes reflected Kitahara Shin's mature and profound profile, and a feeling of "throbbing" quietly took root in the sweltering corner of the film set.
After the day's filming was completed, Matsu Takako, unusually, took the initiative to approach Nanako, who was preparing to wrap up work.
"Nanako-senpai, if it's convenient—would you like to have dinner together tonight?" Matsu Takako nervously gripped her bag strap, her eyes revealing an undisguised curiosity.
Nanako stopped removing her makeup and looked at her usually quiet and introverted junior in the mirror. She sensed something, touched her chin, turned around, and teased, "What? You want to come in too? But I feel you're a bit too young."
It was rare to see someone in this production crew adopt such a "senior" and "experienced" demeanor, and Nanako secretly felt a sense of satisfaction.
Matsu Takako paused for a moment, then her fair cheeks flushed bright red. She waved her hands repeatedly, "Nanako-senpai, don't think like that! I—I just wanted to ask you about Kitahara-senpai. After all, you've worked with him for so long—I heard that he had a deep history with Akina-senpai and Izumi-senpai in the past—"
Seeing the girl's shy expression, as if she wanted to disappear into the ground, Nanako stopped teasing her and nodded with a smile: "Okay, okay, I understand. When Rie first joined the company, she would pester me with questions every day, but recently she hasn't been trying to get information out of me as much. I guess she's already succeeded."
Nanako recalled the shocking memories of Akina and Izumi in her mind, and sighed softly: "The story of Akina and Izumi is too complicated to explain in just a few words. Let's go, let's eat and talk."
Matsu Takako blinked, somewhat surprised, and asked, "Is it alright if I take up your time? I thought you were going back with Kitahara-senpai after work."
"He's incredibly busy." Nanako said, waving her hand helplessly as she packed her bag. "Although we've been working on the same film set lately and spending more time together, his workload is terrifying. He films during the day and deals with company documents at night. I thought I could handle working non-stop, but compared to his superhuman stamina, it's like comparing heaven and earth. I need to get some sleep tonight, otherwise I won't even be able to remember my lines tomorrow."
The two left the TV station and found a Japanese restaurant nearby that offered a lot of privacy.
After taking her seat, Matsu Takako, holding her teacup, finally couldn't help but ask another question that had been lingering in her mind: "Nanako-senpai, you and Kitahara-senpai aren't that far apart in age, so why do you always call him 'teacher' so naturally on set? Don't you feel like you're trapping yourself, making yourself seem perpetually inferior to him?"
Nanako picked up a piece of sashimi and couldn't help but laugh when she heard the question.
"Trapped by my own actions? I've never felt that way." Nanako put down her chopsticks, rested her chin on her hand, and her eyes softened. "I call him 'teacher' not because of any difference in status. It's because I genuinely respect and admire him—and of course, I truly like him, which is why I call him that."
Hearing the word "like" spoken so frankly and directly, Matsu Takako, an inexperienced young girl, blushed deeply, her ears turning bright red.
Nanako's feelings became somewhat complicated as she observed her reaction.
She recalled herself a few years ago, when she had just met Kitahara Shin on set, young and apprehensive. Back then, when she heard those rumors about Kitahara Shin, her reaction was exactly the same as Matsu Takako's now.
Having spent so many years by that man's side, she had long since been tempered into a "veteran".
Although she would occasionally feel shy in front of that man, most of the time she thoroughly enjoyed the tacit understanding between them and the happiness of constantly receiving a sense of security and positive emotions from him.
In fact, the somewhat childish and impulsive liveliness she displayed in front of Kitahara Shin was often genuine. Every woman, no matter how dazzling a goddess she may appear on the outside, deep down longs to be pampered like a carefree child by the man she loves.
Clearly, Nanako can only completely shed her pretense and achieve this effect when she is with Kitahara Shin.
After a few rounds of drinks, Nanako gradually opened up and started talking.
She told Matsu Takako, little by little, the true stories she knew that had not been distorted by gossip media.
From how Kitahara Shin pulled Nakamori Akina out of the abyss like a god descending to earth during the Golden Screen Incident, to how he withstood enormous pressure and single-handedly pushed Sakai Izumi, who could only sing shyly, to the altar of a national diva.
After hearing the stories of these two women, especially Akina's tragic past, Matsu Takako's hand holding the teacup trembled slightly.
She took a deep breath and couldn't help but exclaim, "So—what Kitahara-senpai said earlier was true. What really happens is far more fantastical than what's written in TV dramas."
Nanako smiled and nodded, gazing out the window at the Tokyo night view: "So I think this might be the foundation of their relationship that no outsider can interfere with. Even though the teacher is getting busier and busier, and even though they don't see each other very often, after experiencing those unforgettable things, they both know very well that in this world, no one can replace each other's absolute place in their hearts."
Just as Nanako and Matsu Takako were talking about those past events in the izakaya.
Inside a high-end apartment building in central Tokyo with extremely tight security.
Akina Nakamori, Izumi Sakai, and Rie Miyazawa, who had recently moved into the building, were sitting on the wide living room carpet. The coffee table in front of them was piled high with red wine and snacks.
The wall clock had just struck nine.
The iconic opening theme music of Fuji TV's Monday 9 PM drama slot began playing precisely on television. Countless viewers across Japan eagerly awaited the start of the series...
"Long Vacation" has finally premiered.
The three women, who had reached the pinnacle of their respective fields, were now just like any ordinary girl watching a TV series, intently staring at the television screen.
Akina is still the most caring older sister.
Dressed in comfortable loungewear, she skillfully poured red wine for Izumi and Rie, and pushed the cut fruit in front of them.
Akina possessed a near-perfect talent for interpersonal relationships and maintaining appropriate boundaries. She always managed to bring together these "close female friends" who might otherwise have caused friction in the most comfortable way.
It was precisely because of her dignified and gentle demeanor that Kitahara Shin's "back garden" never saw any messy palace intrigue.
On the television screen, Shin Kitahara, playing Hidetoshi Sena, with messy hair, is forced to retreat repeatedly in the entryway by Nanako, who is wearing a white kimono, looking completely innocent and helpless.
Seeing this, all three women couldn't help but burst out laughing.
"Oh my god, he can actually make that frightened puppy face!" Akina covered her mouth, laughing so hard tears were almost streaming down her face. "This is completely different from the guy at home who's always giving orders and is incredibly domineering!"
"Yeah—and he looks kind of clumsy." Izumi laughed along, her eyes crinkling as she teased, "But he acted really well."
However, as the story progressed into the late night, and Lanming sat at the piano in his apartment, his slender fingers flowing across the keys as he played the classic "Close to You," the laughter in the living room gradually subsided.
The three women fell silent as one. They gazed quietly at the focused, captivating profile of the man on the screen, admiring the dazzling talent that seemed to be innate to him.
Just then, Rie Miyazawa, who was sitting at the very edge, suddenly broke the silence by holding a glass of red wine.
Rie's feelings have been quite complicated lately. Losing to Nanako in the audition for "Long Vacation" has left her feeling resentful.
Although Kitahara Shin subsequently spent 1.5 billion yen to give her a leading role in a movie as compensation, their budding relationship was forced to cool down due to their busy filming schedules.
This feeling of seeing something you can't have and being unable to have it, this inner turmoil, made her watch the show with a touch of bitter resentment.
"Akina-nee, Izumi-nee—" Rie turned her head, looking at the two senior figures beside her with a hint of confusion and inquiry in her eyes, "Can you tell me—what is it about him that you like? Is it because he helped you when you were most desperate and in need of help, because of that life-saving grace," that's why you've stayed by his side so devotedly?
The moment the question was asked, the air in the living room fell silent.
Quanshui paused, her hand holding the wine glass still. She was an extremely thoughtful person, yet not good with words. The question was too vast and too profound; she frowned slightly, lost in deep thought, clearly unable to give a definite answer in the short term.
But the cuisine of Meiji is different.
She only thought about it for two or three minutes before putting down her wine glass.
She turned her head, looked at Rie's conflicted face, and gave her an extremely understanding and tolerant smile.
"Those life-saving favors you mentioned," of course they had an impact. He pulled me out of that quagmire, and the whole of Japan knows that." Akina's voice was gentle, yet it carried a firmness born of experience. "But Rie, if it were just out of gratitude, this relationship wouldn't have gotten to where it is now. That's called repaying a debt of gratitude, not love."
Akina turned her head, glanced at Izumi who was deep in thought, and continued, "More than those dramatic hero-saves-the-damsel-in-distress stories, what I care about more, and what truly makes it impossible for me to leave him, is the extremely rare respect he shows us."
"Respect?" Rie raised an eyebrow, somewhat puzzled.
"Yes, it's reflected in every aspect, in every conceivable way." Akina nodded, her eyes becoming unusually bright. "Haven't you noticed? He's now at the very top of this industry, holding billions in capital. But he's never treated us as spoils to show off just because he's become powerful, or demanded that we quit our jobs and stay home obediently as his caged birds."
"He always gave us the greatest autonomy. He supported me in releasing new albums, supported Izumi in writing songs she liked, and supported you in filming action movies that required a lot of hard work. He tried his best to protect our individual dreams and let us do what we truly wanted to do. By his side, we were still the shining Akina Nakamori, Izumi Sakai, and Rie Miyazawa, not appendages dependent on 'President Kitahara.'"
At this point, Akina smiled and said, "It is precisely because he gave us this kind of unconstrained freedom and respect that my and Izumi's music careers have been able to reach where we are today."
Indeed, this is true. Akina Nakamori, after her triumphant return, has firmly established herself as Japan's top-performing diva; while Izumi Sakai's ZARD band has dominated the charts for several consecutive years, becoming the undisputed "national divas" of the 1990s Japanese music scene. Under Shin Kitahara's wing, these two women not only haven't lost themselves, but have instead shone even brighter than in their previous lives.
Rie stared blankly at the wine glass in her hand as she listened to Akina's words.
She turned her head and looked again at the man playing the piano on the television screen. Akina's words were like a key, unlocking a knot in her heart that she had never been able to understand.
She couldn't help but ask herself: What about me? What do I like about him? Do I like his power? Do I like the 1.5 billion he spent? Or do I like the irresistible control he exudes when he looks down at me from his office?
Rie's lips curled up slightly, revealing a relieved smile. Perhaps it was all of those things. In this fame-driven world that worships the strong, being protected and favored by a true lion is an extremely addictive thing.
The next morning, the ratings report for the premiere of "Long Vacation" was promptly placed on the desks of executives at major television stations and presidents of entertainment companies across Japan.
There is no suspense.
On Monday night at 9 pm, a prime time slot that originally belonged to Fuji TV, the first episode of "Long Vacation" broke all historical records for the same period with an extremely domineering and overwhelming manner.
Newspapers rushed to write their entertainment headlines overnight, using every conceivable word of praise to report on this ratings frenzy.
To understand the social impact of this show, you don't need to look at those dry statistics; just take a look on the street on a Monday night.
-
Izakayas that should be packed with office workers on Monday nights are now deserted; the usually bustling Shibuya Crossing sees a visibly sharp decrease in pedestrian traffic after 8:30 p.m.
Countless young white-collar workers struggling in the city, overwhelmed by the pressures of life, rush back to their cramped rented rooms as if taking an exam, just to be able to sit in front of the TV on time and watch the down-on-her-luck bride and the introverted pianist have a heartwarming love story on screen.
"Don't go out on Mondays"—this mythical label, originally belonging exclusively to the "Long Holiday" series, has been revived in this time and space with the participation of Kitahara Shin.
Everyone clearly realized that the man who once burst onto the scene with "Tokyo Love Story," and later went on to make medical dramas, police dramas, and even went to Cannes to be a screenwriter, has now finally returned to his comfort zone of romance dramas, where he excels, with his most terrifying dominance.
As long as he stands here, the ratings champion of this era will definitely not be anyone else.
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