novelslam Chapter 255 "The Long Vacation" begins filming!
Chapter 255 "The Long Vacation" begins filming!
Chapter 255 "Long Vacation" Filming Begins! Master and Apprentice Team Up (12/71)
The heavy wooden clogs made a series of chaotic sounds as they trod on the asphalt road.
Nanako Matsushima, clutching her heavy and elaborate traditional Japanese wedding dress, the "Shiromuku," tightly with both hands, ran wildly through the bustling streets of Tokyo.
The midday sun beat down mercilessly on the pavement, sweat streamed down her forehead, and her carefully styled sideburns clung to her cheeks. The enormous white horn-shaped headdress, a symbol of the bride's purity, swayed precariously as she ran. She paid no heed to adjusting her appearance, even when she bumped into pedestrians, she merely gave a quick bow and continued pushing forward, her skirt billowing.
This is the first scene filmed for "Long Vacation".
Thirty-year-old washed-up model Minami Hayama is robbed of her wedding by her groom on her wedding day. Wearing this ridiculous and heavy white kimono, she searches the streets for the bastard who has vanished without a trace.
Kitahara Shin stood quietly behind the monitor, arms crossed, watching the woman on the screen who was running around in a sweat and had no regard for her appearance.
Many staff members on set were surprised by the explosive power that Nanako Matsushima displayed at that moment. In the public's and media's perception, Nanako Matsushima has always been the epitome of a gentle, intellectual, dignified, and elegant "Yamato Nadeshiko." No one expected that she could portray the recklessness, disarray, and inherent resilience of a single woman in her late twenties facing the biggest crisis in her life so vividly and realistically.
But Kitahara Shin watched this scene with a smile of admiration in his eyes.
Others thought this was a breakthrough for Nanako Matsushita's acting, that she had completely shed her idol image. Only Kitahara Shin knew that the girl was simply playing herself.
In private, Nanako was never the perfect goddess who was high and mighty in front of him. She would laugh foolishly over the smallest things, try to learn to cook some dishes that went wrong in order to please him, and when she encountered a script she couldn't handle, she would act like a silly girl, clinging to his arm and calling him "teacher" in a coquettish way, begging for help.
She has this straightforwardness and a foolishness that makes her willing to do anything for the people or things she believes in. Now, she has simply peeled away the part of herself that she usually hides behind the mask of "intellectual actress" and put it into the body of the character "Hayama Minami".
When you're in the right state of mind, the performance will naturally come alive.
"Cut! That's a wrap! Now, transition to the apartment set!" the director shouted into the walkie-talkie, and the set immediately sprang into action.
Nanako stopped, hands on her knees, panting heavily. Her assistant rushed over to offer her water and wipe her sweat. She hastily wiped her face, then turned and precisely spotted Kitahara Shin's gaze in the crowd.
She gave Kitahara Shin a big smile, her eyes sparkling, like a little animal that had just completed a perfect hunt and was waiting for its master's praise.
Kitahara Nobuo nodded slightly, then turned and walked towards the dressing room. It was his turn to appear in the next scene.
Half an hour later, the lights and sound equipment were all in place in front of the set in the apartment building corridor.
The camera was focused on the security door with the nameplate "Sena" on it.
"Bang bang bang bang!"
Accompanied by an extremely violent banging on the door, Nanako stood outside, panting heavily. Her white kimono was soaked with sweat, and she exuded an aura of rage on the verge of collapse.
The door lock made a clicking sound as it turned.
The security door was pulled open from the inside. Kitahara Shin appeared in front of the camera.
The lighting technician and several stagehands on set gasped the moment they saw Kitahara Shin, almost forgetting their work.
Accustomed to Kitahara Shin's usual image as a well-dressed, powerful business tycoon wielding immense control over his vast entertainment empire, the man appearing before them now presented a stark contrast that left many momentarily stunned.
He wore a slightly loose gray cotton loungewear, with messy, wavy hair that looked like he had just woken up. His shoulders were slightly hunched in, and his chin was unconsciously tucked in, giving him the introverted and sluggish air typical of an indoor youth who rarely saw sunlight.
This is Hidetoshi Sena. A young pianist who is frustrated with his career, has a mild temperament, and possesses a scholarly air and a sense of innocence.
"Excuse me—who are you looking for?" Kitahara Shin gripped the doorknob, looking at the crazy woman in front of him, dressed in a wedding gown and covered in sweat. His mouth was slightly open, and his tone revealed a clear confusion and helplessness.
"Asakura! Is Asakura here?!" Nanako reached out and pressed down on the door frame, squeezing into the house like an enraged lioness.
Kitahara Shin was forced to retreat repeatedly by her overwhelming strength.
He raised his hands in mid-air, making a completely intimidating defensive gesture, and retreated hastily into the entrance hall.
In the midst of this seemingly tense and dramatic push and pull, the moment their eyes met, they were engaged in a silent exchange that only they could understand.
Nanako glared at her as she approached, her eyes, which should have been filled with anger, now flashing with her own cunning.
Her eyes seemed to be sending Morse code: Teacher, I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to get rough with you now!
Kitahara Shin was forced to press his back against the wall of the entryway, his face still showing that bewildered and innocent expression, but deep in his pupils he steadily received her signal.
His gaze responded calmly: Stop talking nonsense, push hard, and don't break character.
This tacit understanding, built on an absolutely intimate relationship, made the rhythm of the entire scene extremely smooth. Nanako, indulged, became increasingly unrestrained in her movements, bringing Hayama Minami's unreasonable domineering nature to its extreme; while Kitahara Shin, extremely naturally, shed all his resistance, perfectly portraying an introverted young man who was overwhelmed by trouble that fell from the sky.
One advances, one retreats; one is strong, one is weak. The vibrant comedic tension created by the two clashing in the narrow entryway made the director, sitting behind the monitor, repeatedly slap his thigh in admiration.
As the plot unfolds, Hayama Minami shamelessly moves into the apartment that originally belonged to two men, completely disrupting Sena Hidetoshi's peaceful life, and the two are forced to begin their cohabitation routine.
All the scenes are set in this cramped and narrow apartment.
Even though the script didn't explicitly state any romantic relationship between the adult man and woman in the early part of the story, the hormonal tension between them, typical of mature men and women, inevitably fermented in the cramped space.
One of the scenes that evening was about the two of them sitting on the sofa in the living room drinking beer.
This is a very ordinary everyday transition shot. After the director yelled "Action," Kitahara Shin sat down at one end of the sofa with a can of beer in his hand, while Nanako, wearing an oversized men's T-shirt and with her two fair legs bare, sat cross-legged at the other end of the sofa.
There were no deliberately contrived lines, and the two didn't even look at each other; they were simply staring at the old television set in front of them, which had no picture.
But the atmosphere became incredibly subtle.
Nanako reached for the remote control on the coffee table, her body naturally leaning towards Kitahara Shin. She didn't deliberately maintain the safe distance that actors maintain to avoid suspicion. Because in reality, they already had a physical relationship, sharing a bed, and her body had a natural familiarity and closeness to Kitahara Shin's scent.
Her knee accidentally brushed against Kitahara Shin's thigh. Kitahara Shin didn't flinch, but simply turned his head, his gaze lingering on her leg for a second before picking up the beer can in his hand and gently pressing the cool can against Nanako's cheek, a weak retaliation for grabbing the remote control.
Nanako shrank her neck and turned to glare at him. There was no anger in that glare, but rather a kitten's coquettishness and natural dependence after being stroked.
For example, the scene in the music room late at night.
A piano stood in the corner of the apartment. The script required Sena to play the piano late at night, while Hayama Minami listened quietly beside him.
Kitahara Shin sat on the piano bench, his slender fingers flowing a soothing melody across the black and white keys. Only a dim floor lamp remained in the room, its light and shadow outlining the deep contours of his profile.
Nanako was supposed to be leaning against the door frame listening.
But after filming began, she found herself walking closer to the piano.
She rested her elbows on the piano lid and her hands on her chin, quietly watching Kitahara Shin's profile.
The way she looked at him showed absolutely no sign of acting.
It was pure, unreserved worship and infatuation.
Kitahara Shin stopped playing after finishing the last note.
He felt the burning gaze from the side and turned his head slightly to meet her eyes.
The man's eyes were deep and all-encompassing, like a vast ocean, receiving all her gaze.
That absolute control that belongs to an adult man was revealed in this silent eye contact.
No dialogue was needed, not even deliberate physical contact. Within just a few steps of each other, the two created an intensely warm and ambiguous atmosphere through their eyes and the rhythm of their breathing.
Behind the monitor, the director stared at the screen and unconsciously swallowed.
He had been thinking about how to guide the two actors to portray that "more than friends, less than lovers" tension at this stage. But now he realized that he had been worrying for nothing.
The natural flirting between these two was textbook perfect! The chemistry, as if the very air itself was heating up, couldn't be artificially created through acting. It was a glimpse of their true selves, revealed unintentionally in front of the camera, from two souls already intertwined.
"Great! That was perfect!" The director picked up the walkie-talkie, his voice brimming with barely concealed excitement.
With that command, the tense atmosphere on set instantly relaxed. The staff began to methodically organize the equipment, preparing for the upcoming meal break.
Lunch break is always the most relaxing time for the actors on set.
Kitahara Shin walked to a folding chair in the rest area and sat down, casually flipping through the script that was lying on the small table. He had only read a couple of lines when he heard light footsteps beside him.
Nanako didn't even change out of her costume. Holding an extremely exquisite double-layered custom-made bento box, she pulled over a small round stool and sat down right next to Kitahara Shin.
Their shoulders were almost touching.
In the Japanese entertainment industry, where seniority is strictly enforced and male and female actors try to maintain a clear distance to avoid scandals, Nanako's open and uninhibited displays of affection immediately caught the attention of several production assistants and lighting technicians nearby.
"Teacher, it's time to eat." Nanako's voice was clear and cheerful, with an air of natural intimacy.
She skillfully opened the lid of the bento box, which contained not only the premium Wagyu beef bento provided by the film crew, but also several side dishes that she had prepared herself this morning, having gotten up early on purpose.
"I made my own thick omelet, with a slightly sweet flavor that you like. Try it."
Nanako didn't even take an extra pair of chopsticks. She simply used the chopsticks in her hand to pick up a golden, plump omelet and naturally offered it to Kitahara Shin's mouth.
Kitahara Shin looked away from the script, glanced at the tamagoyaki (Japanese rolled omelet) he was holding to his mouth, and then at Nanako, whose face was full of anticipation and whose eyes were sparkling.
Without the slightest hesitation or embarrassment, he naturally opened his mouth and bit into the thick omelet, chewing it slowly for a few moments.
"It's a little overcooked, but the sweetness is just right," Kitahara Shin gave a fair assessment. He then picked up a bottle of mineral water from the table, opened it, and handed it to Nanako. "You've been running around all morning, drink more water. That street scene this afternoon was just as physically demanding as this morning's."
"I know, I know, even the director isn't as strict as you." Nanako took the water bottle and took a big gulp. Although she was complaining, her face was beaming with an undisguised happy smile.
She simply pushed her lunchbox towards Kitahara Shin, and the two of them sat close together, sharing their lunch, occasionally exchanging a few words in hushed tones about a line from the script, sometimes accompanied by Nanako's barely suppressed, lighthearted laughter.
Nearby, next to a prop box, several young crew members were squatting there with boxed lunches, their eyes constantly glancing toward the rest area.
"Did you guys see that? The way Ms. Matsushima fed the tamagoyaki was so skillful!" A stagehand nudged the lighting assistant next to him with his elbow, lowering his voice, his tone full of barely suppressed gossip.
The lighting assistant took a bite of rice, muttering under his breath with an expression of nonchalance, "What's so strange about that? That's President Kitahara. Don't you guys think about how many scandalous rumors he's had over the years? Let's not even talk about those old entanglements with Nakamori Akina and Sakai Izumi. And recently, even Miyazawa Rie was going to his office every day."
A young girl in charge of costumes immediately came over, her eyes sparkling with excitement: "Akina, Izumi, Rie, and now there's Nanako—good heavens, do you think President Kitahara might actually have built a super harem in private? If so, if these four top goddesses got together to play mahjong, who would be the undisputed queen?"
"This is getting more and more outrageous. Even late-night dramas wouldn't dare film that kind of plot!" The production assistant rolled her eyes, but then couldn't help clicking her tongue, looking at the man in the distance with his casual yet dazzling aura. "But honestly—with that face, billions in capital, and such terrifying talent... forget about those goddesses, if it were me, I'd be willing to pay anything to marry him! Even without a formal title!"
"Wake up!" The lighting assistant mocked mercilessly, waving his hand in front of her eyes. "Go look in the mirror! With looks like yours, you wouldn't even qualify as a mistress in someone of that caliber's harem. You'd be nothing more than a maidservant serving tea and water!"
Several people gathered around the prop box, covering their mouths and chuckling softly.
In this hierarchical and high-pressure film crew, gossiping about the boss's outrageous secrets is a rare way for them to relax.
These low-level workers on the film crew were just imagining an absurd romantic comedy, chatting idly to pass the time.
Even if they had ten times the courage, they would never have imagined that their wildly imaginative nonsense had actually touched upon the very core reality of this entertainment empire.
The noise on set continued, and the aroma of bento boxes wafted through the air.
As Kitahara Shin listened to Nanako's energetic chatter beside him, he casually picked up a tissue and handed it to her, his movements practiced and natural.
The next few months on set, with their unspoken understanding that didn't need to be concealed, were destined to be an openly "paid romance."