sbdcsierra Chapter 256 The Scars of Kansai! The True Meaning of the Giant of Light
Chapter 256 The Scars of Kansai! The True Meaning of the Giant of Light
Chapter 256 The Scars of Kansai! The True Meaning of the Giant of Light
The Shinkansen train hummed rhythmically on the tracks, and the scenery outside the window was like a rapidly moving film, peeling away layers of Tokyo's bustling skyscrapers.
The carriage was so quiet that you could hear the faint white noise from the air conditioning vents.
Nanako Matsushima was fast asleep, leaning on Shin Kitahara's shoulder and covered with a large men's suit jacket. The script for the third episode of "Long Vacation" lay open on her lap, covered in numerous annotations in highlighter.
In the two weeks since filming began for "Long Vacation," the entire crew has been operating at a breathtaking pace. To deliver a perfect performance in this phenomenal drama, Nanako has practically exhausted all her energy. Every day, she maintains the same boisterous and impulsive vitality as Minami Hayama in front of the camera, but the moment the director yells "cut," she collapses like a deflated balloon next to Shin Kitahara.
Kitahara Shin raised his hand and gently tucked a stray strand of Nanako's hair that had fallen across her cheek behind her ear.
Compared to Nanako's exhaustion, Kitahara Shin's face showed not a trace of fatigue. Under this relentless, high-pressure work, he was fortunate to have the [Ring of Life], a mental device he wore close to his body, continuously providing energy restoration.
His physical functions were always maintained at their peak, and his mind remained frighteningly clear.
The two managed to carve out three days of free time from their Fuji TV production to board the Shinkansen bound for Osaka, in order to fulfill the tokusatsu drama contract they had previously signed with MBS (Mainichi Broadcasting System).
As the train entered the Kansai region, Kitahara Shin turned his head and looked out the window.
1995 was a year that severely tore Japanese society apart. The Great Hanshin Earthquake that struck at the beginning of the year reduced this once prosperous land to ruins.
The scenery outside the car window gradually slowed down. The streets, which should have been lined with rows of buildings, still bore shocking scars.
Large tracts of cleared land were piled with construction waste, and many roofs that were not yet fully repaired were covered with glaring blue tarpaulins.
At the edge of those open spaces, rows of simple prefabricated houses were arranged, serving as temporary shelters for the disaster-stricken people.
Nanako, who was still asleep, seemed to sense the change in the angle of the sunlight. She rubbed her eyes and looked out the window following Kitahara Shin's gaze.
Just a moment ago, I was still feeling the relaxed, romantic atmosphere that lingered on the set, but the moment I touched those real ruins and blue tarpaulins, it was completely shattered.
Nanako sat up straight, her lips pressed tightly together. She watched the residents struggling to clear bricks and tiles from the ruins, and the children running around in the open space of the temporary housing in their old clothes. Her eyes involuntarily welled up with tears.
"Will things get better?" Nanako's voice was soft, with a trembling nasal tone.
Kitahara Shin grasped her slightly cool fingers in his hand, a steady strength flowing through his palm. He looked out the window at the devastated land, his tone calm yet resolute: "As long as people are still here, the city can always be rebuilt."
The train slowly came to a stop at the station, and the two composed themselves, carrying their simple luggage, and stepped off the Shinkansen.
The air in early autumn in Kansai was still somewhat muggy, mixed with the faint smell of dust drifting from the distant construction site. Because some main roads were still undergoing post-disaster repairs, the MBS shuttle bus that came to pick them up was stuck several blocks away. The two decided to put on baseball caps and masks and follow the route indicated by the staff to the meeting point on foot.
After passing through a narrow alley, a small park appeared ahead, which had been temporarily converted into a disaster relief distribution point.
Several white sunshades were erected in the park's open space, and hundreds of disaster victims from nearby temporary shelters had gathered around them. In the very center of the crowd stood a simple wooden platform without even a carpet.
A clear, resilient, and highly penetrating voice emanated from two old speakers, carrying through the sweltering air.
"Don't admit defeat, it's only a little bit close"
Please keep running until the very end.
どんなに里れてても (no matter how far away)
Heartはそばにいるわ（My heart will always be with you）————
Upon hearing the melody, both Kitahara Shin and Nanako stopped in their tracks.
Through the throng of people, they could make out the figure standing on the simple wooden platform.
That's Izumi Sakai.
This national rock diva, who is currently at the height of her popularity in the Japanese music scene and whose record sales often reach millions of copies, wasn't wearing any glamorous stage outfit at this moment. She was simply wearing a plain white T-shirt and faded jeans, with a black baseball cap on her head, completely bare-faced.
Holding the microphone with both hands, eyes closed, she poured all the strength in her chest into the song "Don't Give Up."
Inside, there were no dazzling lights, no professional band, only a wooden guitar struggling to play chords. But the sound of the spring water was like a sharp sword piercing through the dark clouds, straight into the hearts of everyone present.
Many people in the audience sang along softly, wiping away tears with the rough backs of their hands. Over the past six months, this song has become a pillar of support for countless people in the disaster area, helping them grit their teeth and survive.
Kitahara Shin stood quietly on the periphery of the crowd.
Watching the girl on stage, who was usually shy and timid in private and would blush even when speaking loudly, now unleashing amazing power for these strangers suffering from the disaster, Kitahara Shin felt a surge of pride mixed with heartache.
Just then, the spring water on the stage began to play the prelude to the climax of the song.
She held the microphone in both hands, her gaze sweeping across the crowd, before her eyes lingered for half a second on Kitahara Shin, who was wearing a baseball cap and a mask.
Even through the throng of people and the masks they wore, the unspoken understanding they had developed from spending so much time together allowed her to recognize him instantly.
The spring water never stopped singing.
She simply faced his direction, her eyebrows curving slightly, revealing a bright and reassuring smile.
Kitahara Shin nodded slightly to her across the crowd.
This is the purest gift that the spring water offers to this land. No amount of noise from the entertainment industry or the exposure of private relationships should disturb her at this time and ruin this clean purity.
Kitahara Shin did not approach her to acknowledge her. He took Nanako's hand and led her around the crowded area to a disaster relief donation box in a corner of the park.
The volunteer guarding the donation box was an elderly man wearing glasses, who was listening intently to the singing on stage.
Kitahara Shin unzipped his black handbag.
This was the cash he had his secretary, Aida, withdraw from the bank before he came to Kansai.
He took out a heavy, brick-thick, large kraft paper envelope and gently placed it into the transparent donation box.
The thick envelope hit the bottom of the box with a dull thud.
The old man snapped out of his daze, looked at the incredibly thick envelope in the donation box, then at the man wearing a mask, and gaped in shock, about to say thank you.
Kitahara Shin raised one index finger and gently placed it on the edge of his mask, making a shushing gesture.
He bowed slightly to the old man, then took Nanako's hand tightly and turned to disappear into the bustling streets outside the park.
The two walked along the street toward the business vehicle sent by MBS to pick them up.
Behind us, the inspiring song of the spring still echoed in the air in the square.
Nanako Matsushima held Kitahara Shin's hand tightly, slowing her pace.
She glanced back at the figures busy in front of the temporary tents, then looked at the man beside her, her voice earnest: "Teacher, once the tokusatsu drama starts filming here—if there are any breaks in filming, could we also take some time to come and do some volunteer work? Even just helping to move supplies or hand out water would be helpful; every little bit helps."
Kitahara Shin stopped and looked at the woman in front of him, whose nose was still slightly red.
In this superficial industry, she has still perfectly preserved her most genuine kindness.
He reached out and adjusted her baseball cap, nodding with a smile: "Okay. Once the production schedule is finalized, we'll change into casual clothes and come help out during our breaks."
Upon hearing this unwavering agreement, Nanako felt a sudden pang of emotion, and a surge of warmth welled up in her heart.
She knew all too well the man's current worth and status.
He is a top tycoon who runs a vast entertainment empire and manages billions of dollars at a time; time is more valuable than gold to him.
Working back-to-back between two film sets every day was already exhausting enough, but he was still willing to give up his only rest time to do hard labor with her, just because of his somewhat willful suggestion.
The image of the two of them walking in that park in Tokyo a few months ago involuntarily surfaced in her mind.
At that time, she watched the children playing heroes fighting monsters and said to him half-jokingly, "If you were to play the hero who saves the world, I would like to play the female lead standing next to you."
She initially thought it was just a joke that had been blown away by the wind.
But only now did she fully understand that he hadn't taken it as a joke at all; he had truly listened to it and seriously turned it into reality.
He not only took on this significant tokusatsu drama, but also tolerated all her willfulness and kindness, bringing her to this land that needed "light" the most.
Nanako sniffed, forcing back the tears welling up in her eyes.
She didn't offer any empty words of thanks; instead, she gripped the man's hand tighter, pressed her shoulder against his, and quickly caught up with him.
A dozen minutes later, the van smoothly drove into the underground parking garage of MBS TV station.
In the conference room, the deputy director of MBS's production department and several core executives of Tsuburaya Productions had been waiting for a long time.
After exchanging pleasantries, the deputy director pushed several thick sets of character design documents and mecha blueprints in front of Kitahara Shin.
This elderly television personality, over fifty years old with gray hair, had bloodshot eyes when he looked at Kitahara Shin.
"President Kitahara, on behalf of the Kansai television station and all viewers, I thank you for accepting this script." The deputy director stood up and bowed deeply.
Kitahara Shin opened the art book, looking at the new giant of light with its streamlined design, featuring a striking red, purple, and silver color scheme. He calmly stated, "We reached an agreement on the cooperation terms in Tokyo. Your station has shown the utmost sincerity and offered resources in exchange for the late-night slot, so I will naturally fulfill my promise. Moreover, this project, titled 'Tiga,' itself possesses epoch-making potential."
"President Kitahara—" A director from Tsuburaya Productions took a deep breath, his voice filled with undisguised bitterness, "To be honest, before the earthquake, the plan for the 30th anniversary project was in a state of uncertainty."
The director's fingers gripped the edge of the documents on the table tightly, his knuckles turning slightly white.
"Since Ultraman Ace, the 15-year television network hiatus caused all television stations to lose faith in this IP. In addition, the production costs of miniature models and suit battles doubled year after year, resulting in a very low return on investment. The company's executives simply did not dare to gamble with what little money they had left."
"But that earthquake changed everything," the deputy director continued, his voice trembling with suppressed emotion. "In the temporary shelters in the disaster area, we saw too many children who had lost their parents and their homes. They sat in the rubble, clutching their dirty monster toys, staring blankly, their eyes empty, devoid of any light. The real world was too cruel and too dark for them."
"So we decided to reboot this series." The deputy director looked directly into Kitahara Shin's eyes. "We don't need a suit actor who can only fight monsters. We need a truly charismatic figure, someone who can convey hope and courage! We want to make a film that, whether it's an adult or a child, will make them believe in the existence of light from the bottom of their hearts. That's why we went to great lengths to bring you here!"
These words struck the air in the conference room like a heavy hammer blow.
As Kitahara Shin looked at the middle-aged men in front of him, their eyes filled with tears, all his previous calculations about Bandai Toys' revenue sharing and the licensing of peripheral merchandise evaporated at that moment.
He finally understood why, within the original historical timeline, "Ultraman Tiga" was able to break free from the constraints of traditional tokusatsu and become a grand epic elevated to a divine level.
Because the underlying theme of this drama is the blood and tears of a generation rebuilding their faith in the ruins, and it carries the heavy hope of a group of television professionals who want to tear through the darkness and bring light to the children in the disaster area.
This is not a business. It is a responsibility bestowed upon us by the times.
"I understand." Kitahara Shin closed the art book and placed his hands crossed on the table. He shed all his business aura and gave the purest and most weighty answer: "I will give that giant a true soul."
An hour later, in the TV station's costume fitting studio.
The curtain in the fitting room was suddenly pulled open.
Nanako Matsushima was the first to step forward. She had her long hair neatly pinned up at the back of her head and was wearing her signature red, white, and gray GUTS (Victory Team) uniform. A tactical belt was tied around her waist, and a sidearm was slung over her thigh.
The down-on-her-luck bride who ran wildly through the streets of Tokyo in a white kimono has now transformed into a dashing and determined ace pilot, "Nanase Rena".
Immediately afterwards, the door to another fitting room was also pushed open.
Kitahara Shin, wearing the same style of Victory Team uniform, strode out.
The well-fitting tailoring accentuated his imposing figure, giving him an imposing presence. He stepped into the studio lights, where the props manager, holding a black metal box in both hands, solemnly approached him and opened the lid.
Inside lay quietly the Spark Lens, the transformation device that symbolized the inheritance of light.
Kitahara Shin reached out and grasped the handle, which had a cold, marble-like texture.
The moment I held this prop, which carried countless childhood fantasies and the high hopes of the times, in my hands, an indescribable, heavy sense of mission spread from my palm throughout my body.
He turned his head and looked at Nanako standing beside him. Their eyes met, and their gazes reflected not only the unspoken understanding of acting but also a shared sense of responsibility.
"GUTS members Daigo and Rena, get ready for your official photos!" the photographer shouted from behind the camera.
The flash went off, freezing this moment forever.
The Ultraman Tiga production team officially launched their journey in the scarred land of Kansai.
For Kitahara Shin and Matsushima Nanako, the real challenge was just beginning. For the next few months, they would live a crazy double life, a daytime life as a down-on-his-luck model and a melancholic pianist, tentatively exploring and flirting with each other in a Tokyo apartment.
At night, they would take the Shinkansen to the film set in Kansai, transforming into the ace pilots of the Hien-go fighter jet, saving the city and children from the monsters' barrage.
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