novelraw Chapter 41: Dialing the Time Back
Chapter 41: Dialing the Time Back
All of this entails dialing the time back to Wednesday.
Tokyo, Marunouchi.
Kimura Takuya held a cup of hot coffee just taken from the pantry. The bitterness and aroma of the coffee were the only weapons he used to combat this cyclical boredom.
He sat back in his cubicle, his gaze habitually falling on the spread-open entertainment section of the 'Nitto Shimbun'.
On it, using the largest font and the most magnificent words, an animation named 'Onibo Samurai' was being promoted. In the photo, that producer named Iwata stood shoulder-to-shoulder with a quite prestigious author, smiling so confidently it bordered on unbridled arrogance.
Kimura's eyebrows furrowed slightly.
He certainly knew of 'Onibo Samurai', and also admitted that the animation's production was indeed excellent. Like a piece of magnificent armor displayed in a museum, every armor scale sparkled with the light of money.
Yet his gaze was stung by a few lines of objective evaluations carrying contempt and pity squeezed between that psalm of praise.
"...Rough art style, simple production, relying on cheap jump scares to grab attention, ultimately difficult to attain elegance."
This was talking about "Yamishibai".Kimura set down his coffee cup. That curling hot steam seemingly also carried a trace of indignation.
He had watched "Yamishibai".
Starting from the first episode "Talisman Woman", it was as if he was poisoned, waiting in front of the television every late night for a date with fear.
He would never forget the "Paper" episode. That ghost face that suddenly emerged from the photocopier's glass plate made him feel trepidation even casting a glance at the company's photocopier while working overtime that night.
That wasn't any cheap jump scare.
That was a kind of chilling, damp terror akin to moss quietly growing from your most familiar, everyday life.
Those words in the newspaper were like people who had never been caught in the rain, looking down from a high vantage point to evaluate the freezing cold of a rainstorm.
"Kimura, did you see this?" The colleague from the neighboring seat leaned over, pointing at Iwata in the newspaper, his face full of envy: "I heard this animation has a massive investment, tonight's viewership rating will definitely explode. Should we watch it too?"
Kimura shook his head, turned around, looked at his colleague's face filled with gossip and anticipation, and said using an unprecedentedly serious tone: "Don't believe the newspaper's nonsense. If you want to watch a magnificent jidaigeki, you can go watch 'Onibo Samurai'. But if you want to experience what true terror that keeps you awake all night is, I advise you to go watch 'Yamishibai'."
His voice wasn't loud, but it was like a pebble tossed into a pond, rippling out circles named "curiosity" in the small office.
...
Shinjuku, Midnight Diner.
The L-shaped bar counter was fully seated. Two newly arrived customers were holding an evening paper, discussing enthusiastically.
"Boss, you must watch this 'Onibo Samurai' tonight! The newspapers have blown it up to the sky, calling it an innovative work in the animation industry!"
Mizukami Sho merely wiped a white porcelain bowl silently. Hearing this, he didn't even lift his eyelids, using his typical unrippled tone to say: "Is that so? Then perhaps, you guys could also watch 'Yamishibai'."
"'Yamishibai'?" One of the customers pursed his lips disdainfully, shaking the newspaper in his hand: "The newspaper said that animation has rough production, no shokunin spirit at all, just an opportunistic little plaything."
Once these words came out, the atmosphere of the originally quiet diner instantly changed.
"Clang!"
Mr. Tanaka slammed his wine glass heavily onto the table. That face slightly flushed from alcohol was currently full of anger from being offended: "Little plaything? You call that thing that scares people out of daring to go home a little plaything? I tell you, ever since I watched that 'Family Precept', now as soon as I close my eyes, I feel like a pale old man is smiling at me!"
"Exactly!" Akemi from the adjacent seat also set down her chopsticks, her pretty face written full of indignation: "'Onibo Samurai' is good-looking, but that kind of good-looking is like looking at a painting hanging on the wall, you know it's fake. But 'Yamishibai' is different. It makes you feel... that such a painting might really be hanging on your house's wall!"
"Well said!" A university student at the other end of the bar pushed his glasses, summarizing with his unique academic tone: "One is an aesthetic spectacle, one is a psychological scalpel. The former makes you marvel, the latter... makes you tremble."
The two newly arrived customers were stunned by this sudden, all-around refutation.
Looking at this group of totally unacquainted ordinary people sharing a bitter hatred for a common enemy because of an animation, in their eyes, for the first time, doubt arose towards the newspaper's authority.
...
Shinagawa, Taxi Dispatch Center.
A group of drivers who just finished their shift were gathered around a few newspapers. Amidst the swirling smoke, the atmosphere was somewhat depressing.
"Damn it, how much money did these writing folks take? Speaking so against their conscience?" Young Kenji cursed while pressing his cigarette butt into the ashtray.
Experienced old driver Kitagishi took a sip of hot tea, speaking slowly: "It's just a capital game. By spending money, you can make the loudspeaker's voice louder."
He paused. Within those eyes that had seen countless worldly affairs flashed a hint of wisdom: "'Onibo Samurai' being promoted so grandly, I bet it cost quite a bit of money! But whether this Onibo Samurai is actually good to watch or not is unknown. However, personally I really don't think it's that great to watch, anyway I feel it's not as good as 'Yamishibai'."
"Yeah! That's exactly it!" Sounds of agreement rang out around.
Right at this time, a white-collar worker who just finished socializing got into Kenji's car, chatting casually: "Driver, to Meguro. Sigh, just finished watching that 'Onibo Samurai' with a client, the production is truly pretty good."
Kenji hurriedly ran over preparing to drive.
Then he shot him a glance through the rearview mirror, the corners of his mouth curving into a mysterious smile: "Sir, do you want to try something even more thrilling than 'Onibo Samurai'?"
...
Friday, Setagaya, University Library.
The latest issue of "Weekly Shonen Jump" was passed around in the students' hands. The air was permeated with a unique scent mixing ink and youth.
"Look quickly! 'YuYu Hakusho'! The Dark Tournament is about to begin! This younger Toguro brother's oppressiveness is too strong!"
"Urameshi and the others are definitely dead this time, right? How could they possibly win?"
The students discussed enthusiastically, their blood boiling for that approaching, destiny-like battle.
Just at this moment, an eagle-eyed male student suddenly pointed at the serialization header of 'YuYu Hakusho' and let out an earth-shaking weird shriek.
"Holy shit! Look here!"
The crowd leaned over, only to see next to the boldly marked author introduction, an extra line of text that almost stopped their hearts.
"—Original Work & Planning of Super Popular Late-Night Animation 'Yamishibai', Genius Manga Artist Nohara Hiroshi's Latest Masterpiece!"
In the library, first there was a deathly silence.
Then, that silence was thoroughly torn apart by an unstoppable series of gasping sounds, akin to discovering a new continent.
"No... no way, right?"
"The one who drew such hot-blooded battles, and the one who made those underworld-like stories... are actually the same person?!"
"This Nohara Hiroshi... exactly what kind of monster is he?!"
This discovery was like a depth charge dropped into a calm lake, instantly detonating the entire reader circle.
So it turned out, that devil who gripped their souls with icy fear in the deep of the night, during the day, was actually that hero who ignited their youth with scorching friendship and battles.
This extreme contrast, this genius spanning across light and dark, brought an unparalleled, almost divine charm.
"Hey! Tonight, 'Yamishibai's' final episode! Let's watch it together in our dorm?!"
"Count me in!"
"Must do!"
A pact was quietly forged between countless young souls.
They didn't know that what they were about to witness wasn't merely the ending of an animation.
But rather, the most thorough, resounding... counterattack launched by the people's word of mouth and passion against capital's arrogance and manipulation.