novelraw Chapter 120: Elephant~ The Ancestral Elephant Dance! Nohara Ginnosuke's Signature Trick!
Chapter 120: Elephant~ The Ancestral Elephant Dance! Nohara Ginnosuke's Signature Trick!
Osaka, Kansai TV (KTV) Headquarters Building, Production Bureau.
The air inside the Meeting Room seemed to be tightly gripped by an invisible hand, so suffocatingly stuffy one could wring water from it.
The ashtrays had long been piled high with burnt-out cigarette butts, resembling tiny graves burying the inspiration and patience of everyone present.
"So, you all busied yourselves for nearly a month, and the result you give me is this?"
Waya Ichiro—the Deputy Bureau Chief of Production renowned throughout the Osaka television industry for his iron fist and short temper—lightly tossed a thin Proposal into the center of the conference table like tossing garbage.
On his face, which appeared somewhat puffy from chronically issuing orders, was currently written undisguised disappointment and fury.
"'New Tales of Horror'? Were your brains kicked by a donkey? Such a stale name sounds like late-night ghost stories my grandfather's generation would watch! Do you want the audience to fall asleep ahead of time while watching our program?!"
His roaring voice acted like an enraged lion, stirring up echoes within the Meeting Room.
Those Section Chiefs and Directors sitting below, who normally Abused Power in their respective territories, all acted like a flock of quail that had done something wrong right now. Each and every one of them kept their heads down, Silent as a Winter Cicada.
"Deputy Bureau Chief... this... you can't blame us for this."A rather refined-looking Section Chief finally gathered his courage, defending himself with a nearly pleading tone: "The topic of 'Urban Legends'... it sounds simple to talk about, but to actually do it... it's simply too difficult."
"Difficult? Where is it difficult?!" Waya Ichiro slammed the table, the massive sound causing everyone to subconsciously shrink their necks.
"It's... it's 'Nohara Hiroshi' who is too difficult!"
The refined Section Chief's voice abruptly rose. On his flushed face was written the helplessness and breakdown of being forced into a corner: "He... he isn't simply telling ghost stories! He is defining! He used Yamishibai and Tales of the Unusual to lay down a definition for this brand-new genre of 'Urban Legends' that all of us are unable to bypass!"
"We tried! We really tried!"
Another scriptwriter in charge of the scripts also chimed in with a mournful face: "We found the best horror novelists in all of Osaka! We even went to ancient temples in Kyoto to flip through records of the bizarre that had been gathering dust for hundreds of years! But the things we wrote, compared to Nohara Hiroshi's... they just... feel exceptionally fake! Exceptionally deliberate!"
"Exactly!"
The refined Section Chief nodded heavily, his voice full of despair: "His horror is rooted in daily life! It's the fear of walking into a convenience store late at night and seeing an extra blurry figure in the mirror! It's the fear of receiving a silent prank call, only to discover the next day that the phone number simply doesn't exist! This kind of thing, it isn't fabricated, it... it permeates from the bones! We... we simply cannot imitate it!"
"Cannot imitate it?"
The corner of Waya Ichiro's eye twitched. He forcefully suppressed the fury in his heart and changed the subject: "Then what about Tales of the Unusual? You can at least imitate that one, right? Isn't it just plot twists? Find a few more scriptwriters, make the endings a bit more absurd, and wouldn't that do it?!"
"That... that's even harder!" The scriptwriter's face instantly collapsed like a bitter gourd.
"Do you think it's just simple plot twists? Inside there... inside there is the dissection of human nature, it's the satire of societal phenomena! That 'Terrifying Sensation' from the first episode, it talks about 'prejudice'! That 'Rumors of Machio' from the second episode, it talks about 'rumors'! That 'Sugoroku' from the third episode, it talks about 'destiny'! Every single story is like a scalpel, accurately slicing open the most hypocritical pustules of our society! This kind of depth... this kind of premise... how... how could we possibly learn it?!"
These words plunged the entire Meeting Room into a long silence.
Waya Ichiro opened his mouth, yet couldn't spit out a single word.
He felt like a foolish tribal chieftain commanding a group of primitive men wielding wooden sticks to challenge a warrior from the future piloting a Gundam.
That powerlessness stemming directly from his marrow made his already anxious heart increasingly frustrated.
"Then... what about that Kasou Taishou?"
As if grasping onto the final straw to save his life, his voice asked dryly: "Those nationwide auditions, what do you think of them? Is it... is it just that brat deliberately mystifying things?"
"This... we also researched it." The refined Section Chief pushed up the glasses on the bridge of his nose, his eyes full of confusion: "From the format, this is indeed an unprecedented model. It pulled the battlefield of the auditions from closed-off studios directly to the streets and alleys across the country. That posture, rather than calling it selecting contestants, it's more like... conscription."
"Conscription?" Waya Ichiro's brow furrowed even deeper.
"Yes, conscription."
The refined Section Chief nodded, his tone carrying reverence: "He used 'creativity' and a 'sense of honor' as weapons, transforming the ordinary populace of all of Japan into his most loyal soldiers. He made everyone produce the illusion that 'I, too, can become a star,' thereby making them willingly add bricks and tiles to that rising variety show empire of his. This method... is truly... too brilliant."
"But what use is this?" Another Director unyieldingly retorted: "A motley crew, no matter how many there are, can they compare to those professionally trained Geinin in our hands? From how I see it, this is nothing more than a flashy, large-scale piece of performance art. Once the novelty wears off, the audience will soon get sick of it."
These words caused everyone present to subconsciously nod.
The current viewpoint was exactly this.
Right, what kind of tricks could a group of amateurs pull off?
Whether it was movies, TV dramas, or variety shows, they all needed a group of professional actors and stars to hold down the fort.
A group of amateurs who had never received actor training.
A group of so-called citizens.
Do they know what a camera shot is?
Do they know what theatrical language is?
"If that's the case, perhaps we still have a chance to catch our breath."
Hearing everyone say this, Waya Ichiro's heart finally settled down a bit, but for some unknown reason, he still felt an incomparable palpitation in his heart.
...
Nagoya, Chukyo TV.
Fukuoka, Kyushu Broadcasting.
At virtually the exact same time, the exact same conversations were playing out in different Meeting Rooms, using different dialects.
Those regional powerhouses who had previously clamored about joining forces to "encircle and annihilate" Nohara Hiroshi—after experiencing weeks of closed-door research—were finally forced to face a cruel reality that made them feel despair—
They were absolutely no match for that young man.
Whether it was creativity, depth, or scale, they were comprehensively crushed by the other party with a posture bordering on an utter steamroller.
"Sigh!"
Ultimately, all the arguments and all the unwillingness simply transformed into a collective sigh full of helplessness and exhaustion.
"Forget it."
A Production Bureau leader waved his hand, his posture like a fighter whose spine had been broken: "Let's put the Kasou Taishou project aside for now. Concentrate all our energy on gnawing down this 'Urban Legends' topic first! I refuse to believe that all the elites of our Kansai region can't compare to a single brat from Tokyo!"
"Hai!"
...
Night fell, the lights inside the Izakaya were dim and yellow.
Waya Ichiro, Yamada Ken, and Tanaka Shigeru—the three core members of the "Anti-Nohara Hiroshi Alliance"—gathered together once more.
Only this time, their faces had long lost that passionate fervor of sharing a bitter hatred of the enemy, leaving only a颓喪 of Mutual Appreciation shrouded by a shared failure.
"Dammit! That brat, what exactly is inside his head?!"
Waya Ichiro downed the sake in his cup in one gulp, viciously slamming the cup onto the table. On his flushed face was written irrepressible jealousy and unwillingness: "Those pieces of trash under me researched for nearly a month and didn't even learn a superficial smattering of his first episode! Every single one of them just knows how to tell me 'it's hard'! 'Cannot imitate it'! What the hell am I feeding them for?!"
"The feeling is mutual." Yamada Ken gave a bitter smile, his face currently also written full of weariness: "It's the same on my end. That guy named Nohara Hiroshi, he's like a mountain, a massive mountain that none of us can surmount. We can only watch helplessly as he stands at the summit, overlooking us pitiful bugs struggling bitterly at the foot of the mountain."
"The most terrifying thing isn't his talent."
Tanaka Shigeru, who had been silent all this time, slowly exhaled a breath of stale air: "The most terrifying thing is his layout. He used Yamishibai and Tales of the Unusual to establish an absolute, unshakable brand barrier in the field of 'Urban Legends.' Then, he used Kasou Taishou to open up an entirely new blue ocean, belonging solely to him, on the new battlefield of variety shows."
He paused. His voice took on a trace of marrow-deep fear that even he himself hadn't realized.
"TV dramas, anime, variety shows... he's been at the television station for less than a year, yet he has already established his absolute dominance in the three most important fields. Tell me, in a few more years, will there still be a place for us old folks to stand in this Japanese television industry?"
These words acted like a cold knife, accurately stabbing into the hearts of everyone present.
A deathly silence fell upon the private room.
This was indeed worth pondering deeply.
Every era would have its abandoned losers.
However, when it was their turn, these Production Bureau leaders who were once accustomed to sitting high and mighty felt somewhat lost and fearful in their hearts.
Especially now, they couldn't even understand what exactly Nohara Hiroshi was doing with his current actions!
...
Akita Prefecture, Omagari City.
In completely stark contrast to Tokyo's suffocatingly fast pace, time here seemed to be stretched out by the lazy chirping of cicadas on an August afternoon—distant and tranquil.
Inside the Nohara family's old house, Nohara Ginnosuke was sitting cross-legged on the Tatami with a displeased expression, two thick eyebrows exactly the same as his youngest son's twisted into a knot.
Spread open in front of him was a brightly colored Promotional Poster.
On it, written in an enchanting artistic font, were several large characters that seemed to dance—[Kasou Taishou] Akita Region Auditions, Registration Heatedly Underway!
"Hmph, doing these flashy things." Nohara Ginnosuke snorted out a breath of stale air from his nose mixed with the stubbornness and disdain of an old farmer. He took a sip of warm Barley Tea, yet his gaze uncontrollably swept back and forth across the highly imaginative, comical images on that poster.
Hidden deep within that gaze was a rearing-to-go restlessness that even he himself hadn't realized.
"I say, father of my children, you've been staring at that piece of paper for an entire afternoon, aren't your eyes tired?"
From the kitchen transmitted the voice of his old companion, Nohara Tsuru, carrying a bit of helplessness yet also full of an amused, gentle smile.
She walked out carrying a plate of freshly cut, chilled watermelon. The red-fleshed, black-seeded watermelon radiated a refreshing sweetness unique to midsummer.
"Wh-who's looking at it!" Nohara Ginnosuke's old face flushed red. Like a child whose mind had been exposed, he hurriedly pushed the poster aside and put on the airs belonging to the head of the household: "I am criticizing! Criticizing this kind of Sensationalist program that ignores honest work! For generations, our Nohara family has worked down-to-earth! Where would we find the time to do these unpresentable things!"
Nohara Tsuru simply covered her mouth and chuckled lightly. She placed the watermelon on the low table. In her eyes—which had long been carved with fine lines by the passage of time yet remained clear and bright—was brimming with a clear understanding of her own husband's little thoughts.
"Is that so? Then how come I heard Uncle Yamada from next door showing off to me yesterday, saying he's preparing to sign up for this program with his grandson to perform 'Grandpa and Grandson Telling Jokes'?"
"That old geezer Yamada?!" Nohara Ginnosuke's eyebrows instantly shot up. He viciously slapped his thigh, an unwilling flame erupting from his small eyes: "What the hell does he know about telling jokes! That tone-deaf, broken gong voice of his would make even the dog at the village entrance take a detour! If even he dares to go, how... how could I, Nohara Ginnosuke, not go?!"
"Oh?" A mocking curve hooked the corners of Nohara Tsuru's lips, "Then what are you preparing to perform? I don't remember you having any presentable talents."
"Who says I don't?!"
This sentence acted like a lit fuse, instantly detonating the powder keg full of pride that was Nohara Ginnosuke!
He jumped to his feet. An indignation from having his artistic accomplishments slighted surfaced on his weather-beaten face.
With a swish, he pulled all the shoji doors shut, and then closed the living room windows with a clang. The entire room instantly darkened, leaving only a few faint rays of light penetrating through the cracks, rendering the atmosphere somewhat mysterious, and also somewhat... lecherous.
"Tsuru, today, I will let you behold the true, hidden special talent your husband has kept secret for decades!"
Looking at him acting all mysterious like this, an ominous premonition surfaced for the first time on Nohara Tsuru's face, which always carried a gentle smile. Her voice even took on a bit of a stutter: "You... you old rascal... you couldn't possibly be thinking of performing... that, could you?"
"Hehehe..."
Nohara Ginnosuke let out a burst of enchanting laughter. He turned around, putting his back to his old companion. Following a burst of rustling sounds, he abruptly spun around!
He lifted his white undershirt, revealing a belly that, despite being over half a century old, was still maintained quite well.
"Elephant~ Elephant~ Why is your trunk so long~"
While singing that nursery rhyme brimming with childlike innocence, he twisted his waist. A smile hung on his profile that he thought was dashing, but was actually lecherous to the extreme.
Smack!
A crisp, angry slap, accompanied by Nohara Tsuru's roar of absolute shame and fury, boomed within this tiny Japanese-style room!
"You old codger who doesn't act his age! Reflect on your actions properly!"
Nohara Ginnosuke clutched a rapidly swelling red bump on his head, pouting his lips, and squatted grievance-filled in the corner.
"Tsuru doesn't understand what art is at all..." He muttered quietly. Yet his small eyes uncontrollably drifted toward the highly tempting Promotional Poster on the table.
He was still... a bit tempted.
Right at this moment, the steady sound of a car engine transmitted from the courtyard. Immediately after, the front door of the house was knocked politely.
"Dad, Mom, I'm back."
It was Nohara Semashi's voice.
"Oh my! Semashi has brought Ikuna back!" The anger on Nohara Tsuru's face instantly Vanished into Thin Air. She hurriedly smoothed out her Kimono, returning that gentle and loving smile to her face, and walked quickly to slide open the door.
At the doorway, standing prettily beside Nohara Semashi's burly figure, was a girl.
It was exactly Sakurada Ikuna.
She wore a simple and elegant floral dress, carrying an exquisitely packaged fruit basket in her hand. On her pretty face, which always bore a gentle smile, was a bit of the shyness and nervousness of a first-time visit.
"Hello Uncle, hello Auntie."
"Oh my! It's Ikuna-chan! Come in! Quickly come in!"
Nohara Ginnosuke instantly put away his grievance-filled appearance and resumed the majestic airs belonging to a future father-in-law, calling for Nohara Tsuru to serve tea to their future eldest daughter-in-law.
Looking at her eldest son's somewhat clumsy, yet relentlessly cautious and considerate appearance as he guarded Ikuna's side, and looking at the undisguised adoration and trust toward her son in the clear eyes of that girl named Ikuna—
Nohara Tsuru's heart was thoroughly filled by an unprecedented warm current named happiness.
She held Ikuna's hand as if looking at her own biological daughter, her gentle face written full of gratification.
"Semashi."
She turned her head, looking at her eldest son—who was wearing a brand-new Armani suit and driving a Toyota Land Cruiser that looked "very expensive," yet still maintained his rustic honesty and simple-mindedness. She exhorted him with a tone full of maternal love: "You are now a 'President' with status and face. But as a person, you can't forget your roots. You absolutely must treat Ikuna well, do you understand? Just because you have money now doesn't mean you can learn from those bad men in the city and mess around with women outside."
"Mom! I know that!" Nohara Semashi's old face flushed red. He glanced at the girl beside him, who was covering her mouth and giggling lightly, and his honest-to-a-fault heart became delightfully sweet enough to melt.
"But, Semashi, we really must tell your younger brother about this matter." Looking at her eldest son's appearance of happiness shining through his simple honesty, Nohara Tsuru's face blossomed with a smile as well.
She gently patted the back of her eldest son's hand, her gaze gentle enough to wring water from. Yet her tone carried a solemnity that left No Room for Interference: "Hiroshi is the pillar of our family now. Now that you've found such a wonderful girl, as a younger brother, he will definitely be happier than anyone."
"What's there to say! Why bother alarming the big shot of our family over such a trivial matter!" Nohara Ginnosuke, however, abruptly puffed out his chest. Those two thick eyebrows—exactly the same as his youngest son's—danced up and down proudly, like two caterpillars preparing to dance.
He snatched the Kasou Taishou Promotional Poster from the table—which he had flipped through countless times until the edges were slightly curled—and presented it like offering a treasure right in front of Sakurada Ikuna.
"Ikuna-chan, come look at this!" He pointed at the program's enchanting logo on the poster. His weather-beaten old face brimmed with a pride sufficient to make all of Akita Prefecture turn its head: "See this? This was created by my son, Nohara Hiroshi, who is a Section Chief at TV Tokyo! A Section Chief, mind you! Right now, all of Japan is watching the program he made!"
As he spoke, he also revealed a proud smile: "Our Nohara family is supposedly descended from a family of literary giants in ancient times! And now, a great man like Nohara Hiroshi has finally emerged once again!"
Although Sakurada Ikuna had long heard Nohara Hiroshi's name from Semashi.
And had even watched programs like Yamishibai, Tales of the Unusual, and Kasou Taishou.
But hearing her future father-in-law show it off personally at this moment, an exclamation and admiration stemming from the bottom of her heart still uncontrollably surfaced in her clear eyes.
"I... I have seen it on television... Sensei Nohara is truly too amazing."
She bowed slightly. On her pretty face, which always bore a gentle smile, was a bit of the shyness of a first-time visit: "Semashi-kun also frequently mentions You and Auntie, as well as matters regarding Sensei Nohara, to me. He says that becoming a member of the Nohara family is the proudest thing in his life. I... I also feel incredibly honored to... to be together with Semashi-kun."
These words were spoken with far too much humility.
But the heartfelt sincerity and appropriateness within them caused Nohara Tsuru to feel increasingly satisfied the more she looked at this well-behaved and sensible girl in front of her. The laugh lines at the corners of her eyes deepened by several degrees.
Nohara Semashi was made so flustered by this sudden confession that his dark face instantly flushed the color of pig liver. He somewhat constrainedly rubbed his large, heavily callused hands together. Looking at the girl beside him who was brighter than sunlight, his honest-to-a-fault heart was also filled with happiness.
He stood up and faced Sakurada Ikuna, using a solemn tone bordering on taking an oath to enunciate every single word: "Ikuna, rest assured! I... I will treat you well for my entire life!"
He paused and then glanced at the highly-priced Armani suit he was wearing. An unnaturalness surfaced on his dark face: "But... I still feel... wearing work clothes is more grounding. Once we go back, I'm going to take these clothes off and put them away properly."
"Pfft—"
This speech full of contrasting gap moe caused everyone present to be unable to hold back limits of laughter.
Nohara Tsuru laughed so hard tears almost came out. She held Sakurada Ikuna's hand, as if looking at her own biological daughter. On her gentle face was written complete gratification: "Good child, our Semashi is just such an honest person. In the future, I must entrust him to you. Please take good care of him."
"Mhm!" Sakurada Ikuna nodded heavily, her clear eyes filled with the light of happiness.
Seeing this scene of harmonious joy, the heart belonging to the old father that was Nohara Ginnosuke was finally completely filled by an immense sense of satisfaction.
He picked up the cup of warm Barley Tea in front of him and downed it in one gulp. On his old face appeared an incomparably proud smile.
"Good! Good! Good!" He said the word "good" three times in a row, his small eyes sparkling with infinite longing for the future: "Once you two get married, hurry up and give me a big, fat grandson! When the time comes, I will definitely pass down all of my unique, secret skills—which I've hidden for decades—to him!"
As he spoke, those two thick eyebrows actually uncontrollably danced up and down a few more times.
Appearing quite smug.
But a gaze dripping with killing intent instantly cast over from his side.
Nohara Ginnosuke instantly shuddered. He rigidly turned his head, only to see his old companion, Nohara Tsuru, with a dark face. In her eyes, which were normally gentle as water, currently burned a karmic fire capable of incinerating everything.
He hurriedly picked up his teacup, pretending he hadn't said anything just now.
Seeing the familiar interaction between the old couple, Nohara Semashi and Sakurada Ikuna exchanged a glance, both seeing a heartfelt, happy smile in each other's eyes.
The entire Nohara family was immersed in a warm atmosphere.
Appearing joyously harmonious!