novelslam Chapter 261 Annual Summary, Trip to Izu
Chapter 261 Annual Summary, Trip to Izu
Chapter 261 Annual Summary, Trip to Izu
The calendar for 1995 turned to its last page. Tokyo welcomed its first heavy snowfall of the winter.
Inside the top-floor office of Kitahara's office, the heating was on full blast. Kitahara Shin stood before the floor-to-ceiling window, holding a cup of hot coffee, overlooking the bustling city covered in snow.
The end of the year is always a good time for reflection.
Looking back on this crazy year, Kitahara Shin's performance was enough to make his peers in the entire Japanese entertainment industry feel despair.
At the beginning of the year, "Tell Me You Love Me" achieved phenomenal ratings with its silent, pure love aesthetics and unconventional narrative. In any other year, this drama would undoubtedly be the blockbuster of the year. However, compared to the several phenomenal works released by Kitahara Shin this year, it seems somewhat "conventional," merely an appetizer.
The subsequent release of "Love Letter" completely ignited the art-house film market across Asia.
As the undisputed leading lady of this film, Miho Nakayama has reaped the greatest benefits of this era. For the past six months, she has barely stopped, carrying the film copy to the red carpets of major international film festivals, truly experiencing the treatment of an international superstar. Because her schedule is so packed, she can't even find time to call Shin Kitahara to say hello.
Besides Miho Nakayama, another winner from *Love Letter* was director Shunji Iwai. His clear, detached, and strongly personal cinematic style is considered a standard by major film academies across Asia. Although the widespread adoption of smartphones...
The era of everyone pursuing filtered aesthetics will last for another decade or so, but this unique artsy vibe has already paved the way for his resurgence in popularity over the next few decades. With the support of Kitahara Shin's vast theatrical resources, this film has reached the highest ceiling that art films of this era can achieve.
As for "Long Vacation" and "Ultraman Tiga," which are scheduled to begin filming in the second half of the year, they are still in the midst of intense filming and broadcasting. Considering the long number of episodes of "Ultraman Tiga," and Tsuburaya Productions' desire to leverage its immense popularity to organize some offline stage plays for children, Kitahara Shin's schedule remains very full.
Besides his own works, Kitahara Shin's behind-the-scenes strategies have also yielded steady success.
The "Bayside Shakedown" series, which had been painstakingly built up last year, successfully launched its second season this year. Kitahara Shin decisively withdrew from the lead role, handing over the baton to Takenouchi Yutaka, a promising newcomer recruited by his agency at great expense.
This ruggedly handsome young man with solid acting skills did not disappoint Kitahara Shin's expectations, portraying the characteristics of a Qingdao detective very well. Although the second season's buzz was slightly lower than the first season with Kitahara Shin personally in charge, the ratings remained firmly in the top tier. This fluctuation is completely within an acceptable range. This script is designed for long-term companionship; as long as it's handled steadily, it's enough to become the agency's cash cow for the next ten years.
From a capital perspective, Kitahara Shin's various investments are generating a steady stream of huge profits. He now has an absolutely abundant cash flow. He even made a simple plan in his mind to wait until the financial crisis in Hong Kong in 97, and then take advantage of the situation to buy stocks at the bottom. If he had the opportunity to contact that English teacher surnamed Ma in advance and casually throw some venture capital into the company, he probably would never have to waste his energy on "making money" again in his life.
Of course, this is also a wonderful idea to have in one's spare time.
Pulling his wandering thoughts back, Kitahara Shin sat back down at his desk and began reviewing the year-end reports on entertainers that Aida's secretary had sent him.
The network he cultivated with the Nikokai last year has yielded fruitful results for Matsu Takako this year. Besides playing a significant role in "Long Vacation," Matsu Takako leveraged that connection to land a substantial role in NHK's Taiga drama "Hideyoshi" next year. She enjoys an excellent reputation in serious drama circles; her acting skills and refined demeanor are highly favored by veteran producers, promising a bright future for her.
Meanwhile, another star newcomer recruited by the agency, Ryoko Hirosue, also experienced a complete breakthrough. A series of energetic "GGG" messages on Docomo pagers made her pure, transparent smile a sensation. The title of "Nation's Little Sister" was firmly attached to her, and offers for various manga adaptations flooded into the agency like snowflakes.
Everything is unfolding according to the best possible script.
"Knock knock knock".
There was a knock on the office door, and Managing Director Da Tian walked in carrying a stack of year-end financial statements.
"President, this is a summary of the financial results for all subsidiaries this year. Please take a look." Ota respectfully placed the document on the table.
Kitahara Shin didn't look at those dry numbers. Instead, he leaned back in his chair and looked calmly at his capable assistant who had been with him all the way.
"Daita, I won't look at the reports. You prepare for the handover of your work. After New Year's Day, you will be promoted to vice president of Kitahara Office, in charge of all its film and television and talent agency businesses."
Kitahara Shin's tone was casual, as if he were simply telling people what to eat for dinner.
Da Tian froze on the spot, the pen in his hand falling to the carpet with a "thud." His eyes widened, and he even held his breath for a few seconds.
Vice President? Overseeing all operations?
In Japanese workplace culture, the process of appointing a second-in-command at a large media company with a scale of tens of billions of yen is incredibly cumbersome. It requires countless board meetings, lengthy factional balancing, and going through a thick stack of approval procedures covered with official stamps.
But Kitahara Shin so casually handed over this position, second only to the CEO, to him with just a single sentence, completely ignoring the so-called ironclad rules of Japanese companies.
"President—this, this doesn't require a high-level decision-making meeting?" Ota swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly.
"I don't do that kind of formalism here." Kitahara Shin smiled and waved his hand. "You've been with me for so long, handling everything, big and small, flawlessly. Your ability and loyalty are the best proof. This position is what you deserve."
Upon hearing these words, Da Tian's eyes instantly welled up with tears. In this rigidly hierarchical society, to have a boss who didn't care about seniority but only about ability, and who was willing to give him absolute trust, was the greatest fortune of his life. He straightened up, bowed deeply, and said nothing more, simply etching this kindness into his heart.
The reason Kitahara Shin began to delegate authority was not only because Ota was indeed capable of it, but more importantly because he was preparing to gradually extricate himself from the tedious daily operations.
He wants to have more time to enjoy life and spend time with the women around him.
A few nights ago, after being intimate with him, Akina Nakamori brought up a very natural idea about "home" and "future".
Although the word "marriage" was not explicitly mentioned, the longing for stability was already evident.
This is a promise that Kitahara Shin will have to face sooner or later, and must make. Akina, Izumi, Rie, Nanako—he needs to find a suitable time to properly bring these people together and give them a legitimate, stable, and prosperous future.
To achieve this goal, cultivating successors in advance and ensuring the company can operate efficiently even without one's own involvement is an essential step.
Just as Kitahara Nobu was planning his future life of leisure and wealth, Secretary Aida hurriedly walked into the office in high heels.
In her hand were several gold-embossed invitations.
"President, the year-end awards season is here. The various organizing committees have just sent over their official nomination lists." Secretary Aida's tone was filled with barely suppressed pride.
Shin Kitahara had previously declared that he would win every top award in the Japanese film and television industry that was worth mentioning.
He had already won the Japan Academy Prize, representing the highest honor in the film industry, and the Television Drama Academy Award, representing the mainstream television industry. This time, his sights are set on the last two top-tier pieces of the puzzle.
"Read it." Kitahara Shin picked up his coffee and took a sip.
"For your outstanding performance in 'Love Letter,' you received nominations for Best Supporting Actor at both the Blue Ribbon Awards and the Kinema Junpo Awards. Both awards are presented by Japan's most stringent and established professional film critic associations, making them extremely prestigious."
Secretary Aida opened the second invitation, her voice even louder: "Furthermore, based on your phenomenal dominance in 'Ultraman Tiga' and 'Long Vacation,' the Nippon Broadcasting Criticism Roundtable has officially extended an invitation to you. You have received a nomination for the highest individual honor in the television category of this year's Galaxy Award!"
The Galaxy Award is the highest honor recognized in the Japanese broadcasting industry. It does not focus on commercial ratings, but only judges the social value of the work, its artistic breakthroughs, and the absolute strength of the actors.
Kitahara Shin nodded in satisfaction after listening.
With the successful completion of filming for all scenes of "Long Vacation," Kitahara Shin finally enjoyed a rare respite at the end of the year.
To fulfill his promise to spend time with the women by his side, he turned down all unnecessary social engagements at the end of the year and drove with Akina Nakamori, Izumi Sakai, and Rie Miyazawa towards Atami and Izu, preparing for a three-day private vacation.
He booked a historic, top-tier Japanese luxury inn on the Izu Peninsula, known for its exceptional privacy. In this early winter season, amidst the falling snow, soaking in a steaming open-air private bath while gazing at the snow-capped Mount Fuji was undoubtedly the best reward for a year of relentless work.
A wide black SUV was driving on the highway leading to Atami.
Surprisingly, the person sitting in the driver's seat and holding the steering wheel was not Kitahara Shin, but someone wearing brown sunglasses...
-
Izumi Sakai looked focused. Shin Kitahara leaned comfortably against the leather passenger seat, while Akina and Rie sat in the back.
Rie Miyazawa instinctively gripped the safety handles on the car door, watching the scenery rushing past the window, a hint of nervousness in her eyes. This was her first time riding in a car driven by Izumi. In her memory, this national diva had always been a shy, introverted, and soft-spoken homebody, who didn't seem like the kind of experienced driver who could handle such a large SUV.
"Izumi-nee-san—are you really alright driving so fast?" Rie swallowed hard and finally couldn't help but ask.
Upon hearing this, Quan Shui, who was driving, blushed slightly, smiled somewhat embarrassedly, and remained silent.
Akina, sitting next to Rie, chuckled and patted Rie's hand reassuringly, "Don't worry. Your Izumi-neechan is a hidden racing expert now. She even participated in an underground race with Shin-kun on a mountain road before, leaving a bunch of rich kids behind, you know?"
"A race?!" Rie's eyes widened in surprise. She looked at Izumi, who was driving, with disbelief, then leaned towards Kitahara Shin in the passenger seat. "Is this really true, Shin-kun?!"
Kitahara Shin leaned against the car window with one hand, smiling and nodding: "It's true. After that race, the rich kid who lost to us seemed to be trying to contact us for another race, but Secretary Aida turned him down. If you're interested, I can take you to experience it sometime."
Hearing Kitahara Shin recount that crazy experience, a flicker of excitement flashed in Izumi's eyes. Time had passed, and the girl who had been terrified and closed her eyes in the passenger seat back then was now a seasoned driver whom Kitahara Shin had honed into a skilled driver.
"That experience was really special and very interesting." Izumi looked at the road ahead, a rare hint of excitement in her voice. "Rie, do you want to learn to drive? If you do, I can teach you when we get back to Tokyo."
"Uh—then no need, thank you for your kindness, Izumi-nee!" Rie imagined herself going racing with Izumi, and quickly shook her head like a rattle-drum, decisively rejecting the suggestion.
A burst of light laughter immediately filled the carriage.
The car stereo was playing classic songs by Akina and Izumi on repeat. Rie relaxed and happily hummed along to the melody. The women chatted occasionally, and the atmosphere inside the car was extremely harmonious.
As the cassette tape spun, the melody on the stereo suddenly changed, switching to a cheerful old song full of Showa-era charm—
Seiko Matsuda's "Blue Coral Reef".
Upon hearing the melody, Akina seemed to recall something. She leaned forward slightly and looked at Kitahara Shin in the passenger seat: "Speaking of which, Shin-kun, in the movie 'Love Letter,' the opening scene on the snowy mountain, the male lead sang Matsuda Seiko's 'Blue Coral Reef,' right?"
Kitahara Shin turned around with some surprise and glanced at Akina: "It is true. I didn't expect you to remember even such a fleeting movie detail so clearly."
Akina smiled gently and straightened the blanket on her lap. "A few days ago, on my way to rehearsals for the Kohaku Uta Gassen (Red and White Song Battle), I ran into Seiko Matsuda backstage. I heard from friends in the industry that her current agency seems to be facing some serious problems, and she's in a rather awkward situation. Shin-kun, perhaps you should consider—and recruit her to our agency?"
In the Japanese music scene of the 1980s, Seiko Matsuda and Akina Nakamori were arguably the two most outstanding female singers, equally matched. Now, Akina, under the protection of Shin Kitahara, firmly holds the throne of a diva. Seeing her former rival in a slump, she offered this suggestion out of empathy.
After listening, Kitahara Shin remained silent for a while, then gently shook his head.
"There's no need for that." Kitahara Shin's tone was objective, revealing a businessman's rationality. "Matsuda Seiko has been in the industry for so many years, and the interest chains she's involved in are too complicated. If we forcibly poach her, it might damage the connections she's built up over the years. Besides, given her current status, we might not be able to offer more attractive terms than other established capital firms."
He paused, then continued, "Moreover, we've invested a significant amount of real money in the Kansai disaster area for reconstruction. Although the company's cash flow remains healthy and isn't a major problem, I don't want to waste too much money and energy on poaching projects with unclear returns."
Akina listened to the man's methodical analysis, nodded in agreement, and didn't bring it up again.
However, just as this somewhat serious business topic was coming to an end, Rie Miyazawa, sitting in the back seat, suddenly uttered a sentence that precisely broke the silence in the car.
"Shin-kun—" Rie crossed her arms, her big eyes fixed on the back of Kitahara Shin's head, "Miss Nakayama's lips—don't they smell delicious when you kiss them?"
The moment those words were spoken, the air in the carriage seemed to freeze for half a second.
Kitahara Shin was stunned. He turned his head to look at the back seat. He saw Rie slightly raising her chin, adopting an undisguised, sour, "interrogation" posture. Clearly, this actress, who had lost the audition for "Long Vacation" and then watched her man and the nation's first love play a life-or-death separation in "Love Letter," had finally let her long-standing jealousy boil over in this enclosed space.
Seeing Rie's charmingly feigned ignorance yet insistent on getting an explanation, Kitahara Shin shook his head and smiled helplessly.
"What kind of nonsense are you thinking about all day long?" Kitahara Shin didn't answer this potentially fatal question directly, but instead replied in a tone that was like an elder scolding a child, yet also contained a hint of indulgence.
"Hmph." Rie snorted lightly, pouted, and didn't continue to argue. She just turned her head to look out the window, but there was a hint of triumphant smile in her eyes.
Akina sat to the side, watching the two engage in this subtle, harmless push and pull, and simply smiled gently without saying a word.
The clear and cheerful melody of "Blue Coral Reef" once again filled the train carriage.
The spring water in the driver's seat hummed softly along with the melody, its beautiful voice intertwining with the original singer from the speakers.
Accompanied by this old Showa-era song full of summer memories, the black SUV sped along in the winter sun, carrying a car full of warmth and laughter, heading smoothly towards the Izu Onsen where Mount Fuji can be seen.