dkrc Chapter 132 The Freaks of the Kashiwagi Family
Chapter 132 The Freaks of the Kashiwagi Family
Chapter 132 The Freaks of the Kashiwagi Family
Kawada Town, the former site of Fuji TV.
The late spring chill in Tokyo in March hadn't quite passed, but the air conditioning in the corridors was blasting.
Kitahara Shin carried a black briefcase, his footsteps landing heavily on the carpet. Today, he wore a dark gray overcoat over a black and white shirt and trousers, making him look like a moving iron plate.
When the staff along the way saw him, they all stopped and bowed to the wall.
That's more than just being polite to a "popular celebrity".
The movie "The Wives of Yakuza" is currently showing in theaters, and the image of Sanada Kyoji, with his face covered in blood and a cigarette dangling from his lips, has left a deep psychological scar on the people in this building. Even though Kitahara Shin's face is now clean, everyone seems to still be able to smell that faint scent of blood.
Kitahara Shin stopped at the entrance of the first conference room.
The heavy wooden door was ajar, and the sound of chairs being pulled out could be heard from inside.
Four years ago, in 1988, a reading group meeting was held for "Sunflowers in Winter".
Back then, he followed behind Akina Nakamori like a transparent shadow. Once inside, he could only find an extra seat in a corner, clutching a script with only a few lines in his hand, watching the director and producers fawn over the big stars, without even a glass of water offered to him.
Back then, he was a "background figure" who was lucky as long as he didn't make a mistake.
Now, he reached out and pushed the door open.
On the long table in the center of the conference room, the nameplate that read "Masaya Kashiwagi (Nobuya Kitahara)" was placed in the most conspicuous first position on the left.
The noise inside the room stopped instantly, as if the power had been cut off.
More than a dozen pairs of eyes looked over at the same time.
The air was filled with the bitter smell of coffee and the burnt aroma of tobacco.
The man sitting next to the head of the table was the first to stand up.
Yosuke Eguchi.
He had the signature shoulder-length hair of that era, and his distressed leather jacket was open, revealing a white T-shirt underneath. He was at the absolute peak of his handsomeness, like a newly forged torch.
Upon seeing Kitahara Shin enter, Eguchi Yosuke's prepared polite smile instantly turned into genuine surprise.
"Hey! Isn't this our Kanji?"
Yosuke Eguchi strode over and, before Kitahara Shin could even put down his bag, gave him a tight bear hug, the familiar scent of shampoo and the warmth of the hug hitting him.
"It's been a long time, Kitahara."
He patted Kitahara Shin hard on the back. "You slipped away too fast at the wrap party last time. This time we're playing brothers, I'll get you drunk."
"Long time no see, Eguchi-san."
Kitahara Shin stumbled a little from the slap, but still managed a smile.
This is an old acquaintance.
When they filmed "Tokyo Love Story," the two didn't have many scenes together, but they became quite familiar with each other on set. At that time, Eguchi was still the dashing "Mikami," while Kitahara Shin was the "Kanji" struggling with his emotions.
Now, the two are going to play brothers again.
I went to see your new movie the day before yesterday.
Yosuke Eguchi released his grip, gave a thumbs-up, and his eyes shone brightly. "That last scene, the one where you light a cigarette in the rain, was really cool. I thought to myself, if this kid can play such a crazy yakuza character, he'll definitely be fine playing my elite younger brother."
"You flatter me, senior."
Kitahara Shin adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. Although he was smiling, the serious aura belonging to "Kashiwagi Masaya" was slowly beginning to permeate his demeanor. "But this time, I won't let you steal my woman away again."
"Ha ha ha ha!"
Yosuke Eguchi laughed heartily, "This time, I'm the hot-blooded older brother who's in charge of finding the whole family. Women can wait!"
After exchanging a few pleasantries, Yosuke Eguchi gestured for Nobu Kitahara to take a seat.
Kitahara Shin pulled out a chair.
To his left sat a young woman wearing a beige cardigan.
Wakui Eimi.
Unlike the others who were reserved, she was looking down, intently arranging several highlighters on the table by color, muttering something to herself, as if performing some kind of obsessive-compulsive ritual.
Sensing someone sit down next to her, she slowly turned her head.
"Nice to meet you, I am Wakui Emi."
He spoke slowly, his eyes clear and dull, completely unaffected by Kitahara Shin's serious aura.
"Nobu Kitahara. Nice to meet you."
Kitahara Shin nodded slightly, his voice flat and distant.
At this point, he had already entered a semi-immersive state, exuding an aloofness that kept strangers at bay. The staff around him even moved with utmost care, afraid of interrupting the lead actor's "emotional build-up."
And directly opposite the table.
A boy wearing a loose sweatshirt and a silver necklace around his neck is leaning back in his chair.
Ishida Isunari.
Unlike the seniors around him who sat upright, he sat in a slightly casual posture, twirling a ballpoint pen in his hand.
Hearing the commotion, he didn't show the same enthusiasm as the others, nor did he get as excited as a fan meeting their idol.
He simply stopped twirling his pen, looked up, and casually nodded to Kitahara Shin.
"I am Ishida. Nice to meet you."
The voice was soft and the tone was flat, like saying "thank you" to a clerk when buying something at a convenience store. It was polite, but completely insincere.
After saying that, he looked away and lowered his head again to fiddle with the script in his hands, as if the twists and turns of the script were more interesting than the man in front of him who had just created a box office miracle.
This is a silent disdain.
As a famous "second-generation star" and a "sentimental" newcomer who was highly regarded at the time, he didn't have much of a soft spot for Kitahara Shin, who was considered a "rising star".
In his view, whether it's "Kanji" in idol dramas or "Kyoji" in yakuza, they are nothing more than exquisite industrial products built up using acting methodologies.
How can anything compare to his "wild genius" acting based on intuition and talent?
We're all just here to work, there's no need to pretend to be so close.
Kitahara Shin didn't pay attention to this subtle attitude.
He even found it quite interesting.
Fuji Television executives had high hopes for the drama "Under One Roof". In the early 90s, when the bubble economy had just burst and society was filled with a sense of confusion, they wanted to warm the hearts of the audience with a most traditional story of "family bonds".
The story is simple: The Kashiwagi family has six siblings who went their separate ways after their parents died young. Seven years later, the eldest son, Tatsuya (Yosuke Eguchi), returns to Tokyo to get married and decides to find his scattered siblings and bring them back to live under the same roof. However, these "oddballs" who have long been accustomed to loneliness and indifference don't appreciate their hot-blooded older brother's efforts at all.
Especially the second brother, Masaya (played by Nobu Kitahara).
He was adopted by the director of a large hospital, changed his surname, and is now an elite surgeon who graduated from the University of Tokyo's medical school. In his eyes, his older brother's idea that "as long as the family is together, all problems can be solved" is simply a synonym for stupidity and hypocrisy.
Today's reading session will test the most crucial conflict of the first episode: the scene where the eldest brother goes to the hospital to find his second brother, Yaya, and tries to persuade him to go home, only to be ruthlessly rejected.
"Okay, everyone's here."
Director Nakae Isao clapped his hands, interrupting the whispers in the meeting room. "Although everyone knows each other, we still need to go through the motions. This is our first script reading for 'Under One Roof.' The core of this play is 'bonds.' Everyone needs to get along like a real family."
"Are you ready, you two?" The director's gaze swept back and forth between Eguchi and Kitahara.
"Okay, let's begin."
Yosuke Eguchi put away the playful smile he had just worn when reuniting with an old friend.
In the blink of an eye, that refreshing and popular star disappeared.
He rolled up the sleeves of his leather jacket, leaned forward, and exuded a rough but scorching heat.
"Let's try out a scene first. The first episode, the scene where the eldest brother goes to the hospital to find the second brother, but is rejected."
The director nodded: "Action!"
The air seemed to freeze slightly.
"Masaya!"
Yosuke Eguchi spoke up.
His voice resonated from his powerful chest, carrying an undeniable penetrating force that instantly filled the entire conference room.
"How much longer are you going to stay in that hospital? We're family! Family should live under the same roof and eat around the same table! Is that so-called elite lifestyle more important than brothers who share the same blood?!"
He leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Kitahara Shin, exuding an overwhelming sense of urgency that said, "I'm going to pull you back."
It must be said that Yosuke Eguchi was indeed suited for this role. He perfectly portrayed the somewhat clumsy, self-indulgent, yet incredibly vibrant "elder brother."
All eyes were on Kitahara Shin.
If you can't handle such a high level of emotional output, you'll appear very out of control.
Kitahara Shin sat in the chair without even changing the angle of his back.
He simply raised his hand, putting his index finger to his lips. Then, he slowly turned a page of the script.
The rustling sound of paper rubbing together sounded unusually jarring amidst the lingering echo of Yosuke Eguchi's loud voice.
"The sound is too loud, brother."
Kitahara Shin spoke.
He spoke slowly, and his volume was even two octaves lower than usual. His pronunciation was clear and precise, and every syllable sounded as if it had been disinfected.
"A hospital is not a cold, impersonal place; it's a place where easily agitated patients like you are put on the operating table to save their lives."
He looked up at Yosuke Eguchi through his non-prescription glasses.
There was no anger in his eyes, only a rational, almost cold, scrutinizing look: "Besides, sharing the same blood doesn't mean we have to be bound together. That's the survival rule of primitive tribes, it doesn't apply to modern society. I have my job, I have my life. If you want to play house, go find someone else."
"you--!"
Yosuke Eguchi's eyes widened, and he almost choked on his breath.
This feeling is awful. It's like throwing a powerful straight punch, only to land a punch in a ball of cotton, and then finding a needle hidden inside that's pricking you painfully.
"Is this your answer, Masaya!" Eguchi could only raise his voice to cover up his suppressed embarrassment.
"That's true."
Kitahara Shin closed the script, took a handkerchief from his pocket, and gently wiped his clean glasses with an elegant gesture, as if he were preparing for surgery: "If you don't have an emergency appointment, please don't disturb my work. Nurse, see him out."
"Okay! Cut!"
The director was about to call "cut".
This scene was actually quite complete up to this point, perhaps even too complete. Kitahara Shin's final line, "Nurse, see the guest out," severed all possibility of dialogue like a scalpel. The temperature in the air dropped to freezing point, and Eguchi Yosuke stood there, his face flushed, as if even his breath had been frozen.
Logically, no one should be able to handle this situation.
The aura was too oppressive.
At this moment, Wakui Eimi, who was sitting to the left of Kitahara Shin, moved.
She glanced down at the script, then looked up and read her lines in a slow, deliberate tone, like a housewife who had just woken up.
"Ya-chan".
The sound was soft and gentle.
Kitahara Shin maintained his elitist indifference, turning his head to look at her.
She tilted her head slightly, her brows furrowed in confusion, and continued reading in a casual tone completely out of place in this tense situation: "You've chased everyone away, so who's going to eat dinner? I specially bought some very expensive beef today to make sukiyaki."
Kitahara Shin's eyebrow twitched.
The script labeled this line as "pleading with a sob in his voice."
But she didn't cry.
She portrayed the line as a "simple doubt".
In her performance logic, brothers may quarrel, but they still have to eat. The biggest problem is that if the beef is too expensive, no one will eat it.
This "natural" logic, completely out of sync with his own, instantly stripped away a piece of Kitahara Shin's aloof, elite air.
It was like punching a pile of cotton.
Kitahara Shin looked at her.
A two-second pause.
He adjusted his breathing, abandoning his aggressive tone, and leaned back slightly, adjusting his glasses. His voice held a hint of helplessness: "Xiaoxue, let's not talk about beef at a time like this."
"But meat won't be fresh if it's left out for too long."
Wakui Emi answered confidently, even with a hint of reproach for her younger brother's lack of domestic skills, "Besides, my older brother was shouting so loudly just now, he must be hungry."
As she spoke, she turned her head and smiled at Yosuke Eguchi, who still looked angry. "Right, big brother?"
"Uh... ah?"
Yosuke Eguchi paused for a moment, his explosive anger instantly dissipating. He subconsciously touched his stomach, "I-I'm a little hungry—"
"puff."
Kitahara Shin looked at the innocent-looking "older sister" in front of him and finally closed the script.
He took off his glasses and rubbed his temples.
"—Leave me a bowl."
Kitahara Shin sighed, put his glasses back on, and his voice returned to its calm tone, but without the harshness: "Don't put chrysanthemum greens in it."
"good!"
Wakui Emi immediately took a pen and wrote it down on the script, a satisfied smile on her face.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
Yosuke Eguchi finally realized what was happening and slapped his thigh, laughing wildly, "Masaya! You've finally met your match! All your grand principles are completely useless in front of Yuki!"
The tense atmosphere in the conference room instantly relaxed.
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.
This is what "Under One Roof" is all about.
No matter how fierce the argument, they will eventually sit down together over a meal.
And at the other end of the table.
Ishida Issei, who had been twirling his pen with a nonchalant expression, stopped what he was doing.
He looked at Kitahara Shin.
In the scene just now, Kitahara Shin was actually the passive party.
Faced with Wakui Emi's completely unconventional and natural acting style, a rigid actor would definitely be unable to keep up because the rhythm is disrupted.
But Kitahara Shin caught it.
He not only caught it, but also adjusted his state of mind accordingly, naturally transitioning from "coldness" to "helplessness".
This absolute control over the rhythm of the performance made this proud second-generation star feel pressure for the first time.
This orthodox faction—they're got something.
Just as he was in a daze, a gaze fell upon him.
Kitahara Nobumasa was looking at him.
The eyes hidden behind the non-prescription lenses no longer held the helplessness they had shown when facing Wajii Emi; they had regained their clear and precise scrutiny.
Kitahara Shin spoke, his voice not loud, but precisely pulling Ishida Issei back from his reverie.
Let's compare them.
Kitahara Shin turned to the next page of the script, tapping his fingers lightly twice on the table, making a crisp sound.
"Your turn, Kazuya."
Ishida Issei subconsciously sat up straight.
The excitement of being singled out by a powerful figure stirred up the rebellious streak within him.
He spat out the chewing gum and nodded vigorously.
"Come."
After the reading session, the production team organized a dinner party.
The location was chosen to be an old-fashioned izakaya (Japanese pub) in Shinjuku. Since the character is a family, it needed to have that down-to-earth, everyday feel.
"Come on, have a drink."
Yosuke Eguchi took the bottle and filled Kitahara Shin's beer bottle.
Once he sheds that "big brother" persona, Eguchi is actually a very caring senior in private.
He looked at Kitahara Shin, his tone carrying a hint of admiration between colleagues: "To be honest, in the last scene of the movie, you were rolling around in the mud in the downpour for a full five minutes, right? That was real mud. Although the shot was cool, just watching it made me feel cold."
Wakui Emi, who was struggling to finish a plate of edamame, also stopped what she was doing and blinked as she looked over.
She remembers that scene. That back view struggling in the mud. When she first saw it, she just thought, "This actor is terrifying." But now, sitting together, she realizes that behind it all was real physical torture.
"We'll definitely put in the effort, since it's an action movie."
Kitahara Shin picked up a damp towel and wiped his hands. His tone was casual, lacking the deliberate sophistication he had shown before, and he spoke in plain language: "Actually, being hit and getting injured isn't so bad, since we have protective gear. As long as we cooperate, it's fine. What's most torturous is actually the sand."
"Sand?" Yosuke Eguchi was taken aback.
Kitahara Shin took a sip of beer, then smiled wryly as if recalling some unpleasant memory, reaching up to touch his earlobe: "After filming that scene, I took three showers at the hotel, but I still felt like there was dirt under my fingernails and in my ears. The feeling of that fine sand rubbing against my skin was worse than being beaten up. And I got a fever that night, and the next day I had to film the scene where I fell into the water, wrapped in plastic wrap. At that moment, I really felt like a frozen tuna."
As he spoke, he pointed to the warm izakayas around him, then to the call sheets in everyone's hands, and sighed half-jokingly: "So, being able to wear a clean white lab coat and act in a heated indoor studio at Fuji TV is already heaven for me."
"Ha ha ha ha!"
"Um."
Yosuke Eguchi laughed heartily, shaking his head as he said, "So that's what you care about! I thought someone like you, a true actor, would enjoy challenging yourself in extreme environments to find inspiration."
"Spare me."
Kitahara Shin shook his head, picked up a piece of grilled meat, and said, "If given a choice, who wouldn't want to make money comfortably?"
His gaze pierced through the smoke and landed on Ishida Issei, who was sitting in the corner.
The boy has been very silent all night.
He held chopsticks in his hand, poking at the grilled fish on the plate absentmindedly, his eyes wandering, as if deliberately keeping his distance from this lively circle.
"Ishida-kun," Kitahara Shin suddenly spoke.
"Huh?" Ishida Issei was taken aback, not expecting to be called out. "What?"
"During the script reading just now, I noticed you seemed a little dissatisfied with the scene where Kazuya gets caught stealing?"
Kitahara Shin hit the nail on the head.
When we were rehearsing that scene just now, although Ishida Issei cooperated, Kitahara Shin could feel his resistance when reciting his lines.
Issei Ishida's eyes flickered.
That was a thorn in his heart.
In the script, Kazuya steals because he's short of money, but he thinks that's too cliché and too much of a "screenwriter's mentality."
"—I don't think that's like Kazuya."
Since he'd been asked, Ishida simply slammed down his chopsticks, and that rebellious streak of youthful exuberance kicked in.
"Kazunari is the kind of person who doesn't care about money at all. He steals because—because he wants his perfect older brother, or the family that abandoned him, to look at him. Even just a disappointed look would be enough."
The atmosphere at the table instantly became a little awkward.
Everyone knows about Issei Ishida's background—as the illegitimate son of the famous actor Junichi Ishida, his relationship with his father has always been a topic of gossip in the media. This statement is clearly about himself.
Yosuke Eguchi was about to smooth things over: "Oh, that's just how the script is written, don't take it too seriously—"
"you're right."
Kitahara Shin interrupted Eguchi.
He looked at Issei Ishida, his eyes devoid of sympathy or the lecturing of a senior actor, only a pure, unbiased approval as an actor: "Self-destruction to gain attention. That certainly sounds more like Kazuya's logic."
Ishida Issei suddenly raised his head and stared intently at Kitahara Shin.
He had expected to be reprimanded for "not following the script," but instead received praise.
"Filming starts next week. We'll try out that scene according to your understanding."
Kitahara Shin raised his glass and gestured to him across the room, saying, "If the director yells, I'll take the blame for you."
Ishida Issei looked at the man in front of him who wasn't much older than him.
In that instant, he felt that the hard shell he wore, called "rebellion," had been easily cracked open by the other party.
"----cut."
The boy turned his head away, picked up his wine glass, and took a big gulp, concealing the panic in his eyes that had been seen through and a hint of barely perceptible excitement: "Who asked you to take the blame? Mind your own business."
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