novelraw Chapter 87: The Storm Continues! Hashishita Ichiro Is About to Jump into the River!
Chapter 87: The Storm Continues! Hashishita Ichiro Is About to Jump into the River!
The July wind, carrying the unique scorching anxiety and restlessness of midsummer, blew across Tokyo this steel forest bustling to the point of adding fuel to fire.
Time like a white colt flashing past a crevice, quietly slid into the second week.
And that viewership rating storm whipped up by 『Tales of the Unusual』, not only didn't gradually recede after experiencing the initial outburst like all professionals anticipated, instead utilizing a posture almost violating the laws of physics, continuously, stably, occupying that terrifying high position sufficient to make all opponents feel suffocated.
Monday, episode eight 『Garbage That Cannot Be Thrown Away』, viewership rating: 20.88%.
Tuesday, episode nine 『Suffocating Dinner』, viewership rating: 21.05%.
Wednesday, episode ten 『The Gift』, viewership rating: 21.03%.
When Friday, episode twelve 『Intimate Family』's final viewership rating report, like snowflakes flew into the offices of major departments of TV Tokyo, everyone was thoroughly stunned blank by that glaring number upon it.
21.35%!
"It seems the viewership rating of 『Tales of the Unusual』, stabilized around 21%! This is truly... too terrifying!"
"This is simply a miracle! A sub-prime time slot program created a viewership rating capable of being called prime time slot!""Wait! If it wasn't because this time our prime time slot project program is 『Yesterday's Cherry Blossoms』, that Level 1 Director, Goddess of Romance, Matsumoto Keiko, used ten years to polish out the painstaking masterpiece, I'm afraid who wins and who loses is still hard to say!"
"Exactly exactly! This is truly too terrifying! Placed in the past, 『Tales of the Unusual』 estimating to exactly be the strongest viewership rating!"
Inside TV Tokyo, all film and television practitioners right now discussing, were all what exactly is today's viewership rating of 『Tales of the Unusual』.
This had already become a topic.
Even, has already become TV Tokyo in recent years, the hottest kind of discussion phenomenon!
There were even people saying, this is already no longer a simple viewership rating.
But has become a kind of...
Cultural phenomenon!
A kind of cultural phenomenon deeply penetrating the hearts of Neon citizens, deeply penetrating the characters of Neon citizens, thereby extending out of 'Urban Legends'!
After all anyone could perceive, 'Urban Legends' truly too fitting with the cultural customs of Neon people!
...
Saturday, evening 8:55 PM.
TV Tokyo, Studio One backstage.
The production team of 『Yesterday's Cherry Blossoms』, was currently shrouded within a patch of low pressure.
As the ace of TV Tokyo's golden 8 PM slot, this S-class period romance project personally handled by Level 1 Director "Goddess of Romance Dramas" Matsumoto Keiko, once was the pride of the entire television station.
Was also the benchmark for the Tokyo Faction's external promotion.
However now, this pride, yet was currently being that sub-prime time slot, ferocious monster next door, bit by bit, mercilessly devouring.
"Director Matsumoto, the viewership rating estimate has come out..."
In the assistant director's voice, carrying a trace of trembling not daring to look directly.
"Speak."
Matsumoto Keiko, a strong woman who even past fifty, still retained her charm, famous for being strong and a perfectionist, at this moment was crossing her arms, leaning against the wall, on that face always wearing exquisite makeup, at this moment yet was a patch of ice cold.
"Our... our estimated viewership rating for this episode, is... 21.50%." The assistant director swallowed a mouthful of saliva answering.
"What about next door?" In Matsumoto Keiko's voice couldn't be heard joy or anger.
"... Next door's 『Tales of the Unusual』, episode thirteen, 『The Monkey's Paw』's estimated viewership rating, is... 21.80%." The assistant director's words as they were spoken the volume became softer, finally already almost inaudible.
"..."
The entire backstage instantly sunk into a patch of deathly silence.
Everyone seemingly resembled quails not daring to issue any sounds, blankly standing there, on every single face, was written full of disbelief and shock.
Lost?
They, TV Tokyo's ace, the overlords of the prime time slot, unexpectedly... are going to lose to a sub-prime time slot program?
Still losing to a new program just broadcasting for less than two weeks?!
This is already no longer a simple failure, this is humiliation!
Is an immense humiliation, sufficient to have Matsumoto Keiko this "Goddess of Romance Dramas", sweep away all face!
"Impossible!"
Matsumoto Keiko violently raised her head, inside those eyes always full of confidence and arrogance surfaced a smear of annoyance: "This is merely an estimate! The final data hasn't come out yet! Our drama, the latter half is the climax! The viewership rating will certainly be pulled back!"
However this spiel of hers landing in the ears of everyone, yet appeared to be so pale and powerless.
Because they had all watched that 『Tales of the Unusual』.
They understood far too clearly, the urban legends created by that young man named Nohara Hiroshi, were how terrifying.
That fundamentally wasn't simple horror or suspense.
That was the most precise, scalpel-like dissection towards the deepest depths of the human heart, that loneliness, desire, jealousy, and fear.
It was like a mirror, reflecting out the twisted and dark reflection, likely existing within the heart of every ordinary person inside this seemingly peaceful and prosperous society.
This kind of resonance striking directly at the soul, was something their romance drama full of handsome men and beautiful women, full of romantic sentiment, possessed absolutely no way to compare to no matter what.
Finally, when at evening ten o'clock, the ultimate viewership rating reports of the two dramas, were delivered before Matsumoto Keiko.
『Yesterday's Cherry Blossoms』: 21.45%.
『Tales of the Unusual』: 21.95%.
A 0.5% viewership rating gap.
A seemingly insignificant number, yet like an insurmountable chasm, stretching between two eras.
Matsumoto Keiko blankly looked at that report sheet, the coffee cup in her hand unknowingly had already tilted, the warm liquid sprinkling all over that expensive Chanel suit of hers, yet she was completely oblivious.
On that face always full of pride, all the blood color, entirely faded clean within an instant.
"Truly a case of... the younger generation is formidable ah." Matsumoto Keiko casually tossed the coffee onto the ground, emitting a soft thud.
She didn't care about that coffee spilling onto TV Tokyo's carpet.
As a Level 1 Director she also possessed this authority.
However inside Matsumoto Keiko's heart, truly towards the drama she produced now, capable of being called the pinnacle and superlative TV drama of her life 『Yesterday's Cherry Blossoms』, held absolute confidence.
But this confidence yet was shattered by a young man, utilizing the most direct viewership rating!
She was very tired.
...
This unprecedented "sub-prime time slot counterattacking prime time slot" incident, like a true hydrogen bomb, inside the entire Neon television circles, detonated an unprecedentedly intense shockwave.
Osaka, Kansai TV.
"Found out yet?! That Nohara Hiroshi, exactly what background does he possess?!"
Bureau Chief Yamauchi Hiroshi's roar, almost about to flip the roof of the entire office.
"Bu... Bureau Chief..." In the subordinate's voice, carrying a crying tone: "Found... found out. He... he is exactly graduating from the countryside of Akita Prefecture, arriving in Tokyo for less than a year, fresh graduate..."
"..."
Yamauchi Hiroshi's roar sounded anew: "And then what? Have you contacted him? Given that a countryside person hasn't seen good things right!? Throw money at him for me! Throw! Throw!"
He gnashed his teeth, feeling simply extremely furious towards these dense subordinates.
...
Nagoya, Chukyo TV.
"Imitate? You still imitate my ass!"
The Production Department Manager ruthlessly smashed the viewership rating report in his hands, onto the faces of that group of subordinates still painstakingly researching facing the videotape of 『Tales of the Unusual』.
"They have already evolved to capable of hanging up and beating the prime time slot! You guys can't even see the tail lights of their car! Starting from right now, abandon all imitations! Go think for me! Go think of an entirely new idea, capable of surpassing him! If you can't think of it, you guys all scram out of here for me!"
These subordinates aggrievedly lowered their heads not daring to speak.
After all what the leadership says is right.
Saying imitate is you.
Saying plagiarize is also you.
Now saying letting us innovate, but is innovation that easy to do?
If one could pull out innovation themselves, could they still be scolded by you here, still be in an appearance of being cursed severely?
...
And amidst this massive storm sweeping across the entire nation, those big shots of regional television stations who once still held fantasies towards Nohara Hiroshi, attempting to poach him into their own stations, also became somewhat more rational.
They looked at that 21.95% viewership rating report, on their faces leaving only a bitter smile.
What kind of joke is this?
A monster capable of relying on his own strength alone, producing a sub-prime time slot program, to have a viewership rating higher than the prime time slot, TV Tokyo would let him leave?
That old fox Sakata Nobuhiko, I'm afraid would treat him like his own father enshrining him!
The only thing they can do right now, is exactly pray, pray this young man, doesn't stretch those hands full of demonic nature of his, into the domain they rely on for survival.
Hoping that young man in the ensuing time, doesn't display too many miracles anew.
Otherwise...
This young man merely 23 years old, I'm afraid is about to shroud the film and television circles of the entire Neon for twenty or thirty years!
When that time comes they, will exactly be despair!
...
However, what they didn't know is, that young man viewed as a demon god by them, at this moment, was exactly leisurely sitting inside his own spacious and bright office, while drinking the top-tier Blue Mountain Coffee personally brewed for him by Kitagawa Yao.
While flipping through a document with great interest.
This is compiled out overnight for him by Sato Kenji and Yamamoto Takeshi, detailed materials regarding this world's major creative variety shows.
After all he still promised Deputy Director Asumi, to design a variety show project.
And looking down one by one.
These creative innovation-type variety shows, although not lacking comedic and quirky content, but compared with 『Kasou Taishou』 also hold fundamental differences.
"Almost, about time."
The corners of Nohara Hiroshi's mouth hooked up a confident arc.
『Tales of the Unusual』 had already achieved massive success, then next, mildly trying out a small test of skills, attempting this Neon world's variety show project, is actually not bad either!
He placed down the coffee cup, picking up the telephone on the desk, dialing Asumi's internal line.
"Deputy Director, it's me."
His voice was peaceful: "Regarding that 『Kasou Taishou』 project, I have some new thoughts I want to append."
...
Different from the high-spirited atmosphere of the Nohara Section, the Iwata Section at this moment was deathly silent.
"Creak——"
The door of the Personnel Division was pushed open by an expressionless female employee, holding a stack of documents in her hands, high heels stepping onto the clean floor, issuing crisp and cold 'click-clack' sounds, like the death knell rung by the grim reaper, strike by strike, precisely, stepping onto the heart of every single person.
"Iwata Section, 『Yamishibai』 season three project failure, decision on penalizing relevant personnel."
She possessed no superfluous nonsense words, merely utilizing a businesslike icy tone, exactly like distributing death notices, one by one placing a document onto everyone's table.
Inside the office, remained only the subtle, yet incomparably ear-piercing 'rustling' sounds of paper falling onto desk surfaces.
Hashishita Ichiro's body, trembled like a leftover leaf in the wind.
He tremblingly extending his hand, that thin, yet seemingly possessing a weight of a thousand catties A4 paper, beneath his fingertips, appeared so icy.
His gaze, slowly, word by word, sweeping across the judgment printed upon it deciding his fate.
"... Upon research and decision by the Production Bureau upper echelons, in view of Hashishita Ichiro playing the role of the executive director entirely responsible for the production of 『Yamishibai』 in the 『Yamishibai』 season three project, bearing unshirkable major responsibility, leading to the collapse of the project's reputation, plummeting viewership ratings, causing extremely adverse influences toward the television station..."
"... Hereby decides, revoke his Deputy Section Chief duties, and... transfer him back to Kanto TV, serving as... Logistics Department Document Organizer."
Transfer back to... Kanto TV?
Logistics Department... Document Organizer?
"Boom——!"
This penalty decision was like a sudden thunderclap, ruthlessly striking onto Hashishita Ichiro's mind, entirely blowing that reasoning of his long occupied by despair and fear into powder!
His entire person was dumbfounded remaining in place, those hollow eyes deadly staring at those few lines of icy black text, as if wanting to stare through that paper.
Kanto TV!
That place he once risked his life wanting to escape from!
That place he betrayed all his colleagues and mentor, betrayed Nohara Hiroshi, only then obtaining a TV Tokyo section room Deputy Section Chief in exchange for!
Now, he unexpectedly was going to be like a piece of garbage, dispatched back anew?!
Still going to become a lowliest Logistics Department Document Organizer lacking even a formal post?!
This is already no longer a simple penalty!
It is humiliation! Is exile! Is causing him, a social death!
He could imagine, when he dragging his luggage, stepping onto that familiar land anew, what kind of icy and contemptuous gazes he will welcome.
Those colleagues who once called him brother, those seniors who once pinned high hopes upon him, as well as... that Section Chief Suzuki Kiyoto he always viewed as his mentor, yet betrayed by him personally...
How will they view him?
A pathetic worm, betraying his master for glory, ultimately yet kicked away by his new master?
A stray dog, exhausting all schemes, ultimately yet ending up with absolutely nothing?
No!
This isn't fair!
A bout of madness mixing humiliation and unwillingness, instantly from the soles of his feet, surged straight towards his skull!
He violently raised his head, seizing the opportunity while that colleague beside him still hadn't reacted, snatching over the penalty list in the other party's hands in one grab!
"Prohibit Iwata Masao from promotion within three years..."
"Deduct half a year's performance bonus from the remaining team members..."
...
Those penalty decisions one by one, rapidly flashed past before his eyes.
No firing, no demotion, even lacking a decent warning!
Iwata Masao, that chief culprit as the project general responsible person, was merely unable to be promoted within three years!
And he, Hashishita Ichiro, this "traitor" used as a gun, pushed to the front of the stage to take the blame, yet had to pay the price of his entire life for this!
"On what basis?! On what basis is this?!"
He like a wild beast forced into a desperate situation, issued a hysterical roar, that sound, sharp, and also full of despair.
However, inside the office, those former "colleagues", yet merely coldly looked at him, those gazes, like looking at a clown having nothing to do with themselves, currently staging a final madness.
"What's with the noise? Doing wrong things oneself, must bear the consequences."
"Exactly, if it wasn't for your solemn vow initially, would we be to the extent of being deducted half a year's bonus?"
"Hurry up and scram, seeing you feels unlucky."
Icy words like poison-quenched knives one after another, stabbing that heart of his already riddled with gaping wounds entirely into mush.
He wanted to throw a major tantrum, wanting to smash this office into a complete mess, wanting to rush before Takada Toshihide, and interrogate him why it was so unfair!
However...
When inside his mind, surfaced his wife's gentle face always carrying somewhat of worry, surfaced his own innocent smiling face of his eight-year-old son who just entered elementary school...
When he thought of that mortgage and car loan resembling life-claiming talismans every month...
All madness, all anger, at this moment, like a punctured balloon, instantly deflated.
Replacing it, was boundless, despair... sufficient to thoroughly swallow a person.
"Wu..."
He could no longer sustain it anymore, this thirty-five-year-old man, like a child, powerlessly squatting on the ground, deeply burying his head into the crook of his arms, issuing a repressed and anguished whimper.
Tears seeping out from between his fingers, dripping onto the icy floor, spreading out a small patch of dark water stain, like an silently blooming, flower of despair.
No one comforted him.
Also no one paid attention to him.
He like a lonely wandering ghost forgotten by the world, solitarily tasting the bitterest evil fruit brought about by betrayal.
After a long while, he finally slowly stood up, using his sleeve to wipe his face haphazardly, silently packing his own few personal belongings, piece by piece into an already prepared cardboard box.
Hashishita Ichiro seemingly had already adjusted his mentality.
Holding that heavy cardboard box, seemingly bearing all his failed life, taking heavy footsteps, walking out of this office causing him to plummet from heaven into hell.
In the corridor people came and went.
Yet not a single person halted their footsteps for him.
Also not a single person bade him farewell.
He resembled a transparent ghost, passing through those once familiar, yet right now incomparably unfamiliar faces, ultimately, disappearing behind those icy metal doors of the elevator.
A silver low-end model Toyota sedan traveled through Tokyo's night scenery.
Outside the car window, was this city's bizarre and motley Ukiyo-e (pictures of the floating world), that resplendent neon, like pairs of eyes full of mockery, coldly, staring at this loser abandoned by the city.
Hashishita Ichiro didn't want to go home.
He didn't know, how he should go face that worried gaze of his wife, even less knowing, how he should explain to his son, why dad in the future, never needs to go to work in that magnificent building anymore.
He slowly parked the car on a secluded small road beside the Sumida River.
Time passed for a long while.
Long enough until the world instantly quietened down, leaving only the river water amidst the evening breeze, tirelessly, slapping onto the icy embankment.
He slumped against the steering wheel, looking at that pitch black bottomless river water, that water surface reflecting the city lights, yet also like an abyss opening a bloody maw, enticing him, to take a leap.
Perhaps, jumping down, then everything wouldn't need to be thought about anymore.
No mortgage, no car loan, no eye-rolls from others, also no... that guilt towards his family pressing upon him until he couldn't breathe.
'Just end like this.'
'Ended then everything will not matter.'
Hashishita Ichiro thinking like this, his hand, already uncontrollably, reaching towards the car door handle.