Chapter 31: Avici
Chapter 31: Avici
A Shinkansen train pulled away from the platform. A beauty with wavy hair, dressed in a red overcoat, watched the departing train with an indescribable bitterness in her eyes.
She was so beautiful—perhaps not in a way that was earth-shattering, but she possessed a grace that could touch the softest parts of the human heart. When the tears finally fell from her eyes, one could only imagine how many hearts were left shattered in her wake.
Fortunately, the man who had arrived at the platform with her just moments before came running over, smiling and pointing behind him.
A man in a black overcoat appeared.
She broke into a smile.
Lovers were finally reunited...
"Ah! That’s wonderful!"
"Akina-san is just so beautiful!"
"Hey, keep it down! We can't hear what they're saying at the end!"
"Who cares about that? I’ve already seen it! By the way, I heard that because of this role, Akina really wants to go to Italy to taste the most authentic pasta."
"Really? I’m so jealous..."
A group of young girls cheered at the television screen; it turned out they had just been watching a drama.
These girls were Shinobu and her classmates.
The drama they had just finished was *Akina Nakamori’s Italian Spaghetti Love Story*, starring the one and only Akina-san.
The title was obviously a blatant attempt to capitalize on Akina's immense popularity, but regardless, it had been a success. In the show, Akina’s character wore glasses, which added a touch of cuteness. There was also another actress, Kyoko Togawa, the younger sister of the famous entertainer Jun Togawa.
In fact, this show had aired the previous season and had already finished its run, but watching it together made for quite a lively time. Especially in Japan, where "video-television combos"—devices that combined a TV and a VCR—had become quite trendy, allowing people to record shows and watch them whenever they pleased.
Humans are truly clever.
Shinobu was particularly enthusiastic about watching these dramas. Because of her sister, there wasn't a single item related to Akina Nakamori in their home. Shinobu couldn't help but complain about her sister in her mind: *The two of you really aren't even in the same league; Akina-san is just too far ahead.*
Of course, she couldn't say that out loud, so catching up on the drama now was a welcome relief.
Her chattering classmates noticed the smile on Shinobu’s face and crowded around.
"By the way, summer vacation is almost over. Shinobu, you haven't really hung out with us much lately."
"Were you busy visiting schools?"
"Yeah, which high school are you planning to go to?"
Faced with her classmates' questions, Shinobu was still young, and there were some things she just couldn't keep bottled up.
"Um, actually... I mean, you see..."
Her hesitation only piqued their curiosity further.
"What is it? Who is it?"
"Yeah, what are you trying to say?"
"Just spit it out!"
Shinobu felt a bit shy, but at this point, she had to say it. Besides, she had been wanting to tell them anyway.
"I... I acted in a movie over the summer."
Ah, she said it. It felt so good.
Shinobu felt relieved, but her classmates were stunned, as if struck by lightning.
*So jealous!*
*This girl is really going too far!*
Envy, jealousy, and resentment—these are traditional human virtues, after all.
Still, they were all fans of stardom to begin with, so now that the star was their own classmate, it didn't seem to make much of a difference.
"Acting in a movie must be so much fun, right?"
"Don't you feel a lot of pressure looking at the camera?"
"Idiot! You’re not supposed to look at the camera most of the time!"
"Um... is it going to be a big hit?"
"That’s hard to say. The Japanese film industry doesn't seem to be doing very well right now."
"Didn't we just have a blockbuster recently with great box office numbers? I think the distributor's share of the box office was over 4 billion yen."
"But that movie had a huge budget!"
They started chattering again, and unsurprisingly, the conversation turned to these kinds of 'worries.'
"I think it’ll be a big hit," Shinobu said, though in her heart, she thought: *It will definitely be a massive hit!*
The girl truly trusted that uncle of hers.
...
In truth, the Japanese film market hadn't performed very well this year. However, there was indeed one very powerful blockbuster in the summer season: *Dun-Huang*.
The film starred Koichi Sato, Toshiyuki Nishida, and Anna Nakagawa, with Junya Sato directing. Koichi Sato was a newcomer whom many held in high regard; his father was the famous Rentaro Mikuni. Anna Nakagawa was a complete newcomer in her first role. Toshiyuki Nishida was different—he was an A-list actor with a 'red' background.
Junya Sato was best known for *Proof of the Man*, but his very first directorial work had actually been an anti-war film exposing the brutal acts of the Japanese military.
In fact, *Dun-Huang* was a co-production with mainland China, and the main Japanese entity behind it was Tokuma Shoten. The owner of the bookstore, Yasuyoshi Tokuma, had made significant contributions to Sino-Japanese relations. He had even been received by Premier Zhou Enlai, and back in the day, he had been punched by right-wing extremists for his anti-war stance. In the current era of friendly relations, he remained very active. Tokuma also fully supported Hayao Miyazaki in producing many classic animations; it could be said that without Tokuma Shoten, there would be no Studio Ghibli.
But back to *Dun-Huang*. Its distributor box office had currently exceeded 4 billion yen, meaning the total box office was likely over 8 billion yen. Japanese box office statistics at the time were primarily based on the distribution system—the share given to the production company after the theaters had taken their cut.
While this box office performance was quite successful, the reality for this specific film was different. The investment for *Dun-Huang* was over 4.5 billion yen!
It was set to be the top-grossing film of the year, yet it wasn't necessarily profitable. Such was the cruel reality of the business.
Torru Shimaya, a mid-level executive at Toho, understood this reality well. Toho had significantly scaled back its film production this year, focusing on only two films. The first was unimportant, but the second was critical: *Teito Monogatari*. With an investment of around 2 billion yen, it was considered a big-budget production in Japan.
But on an international scale, it wasn't much. Two billion yen was only a little over 10 million US dollars, which was standard for Hollywood.
In Shimaya’s view, the Japanese film market needed something new.
In the past, there had been the ATG company, which was very active in Shinjuku. It was an alternative film company known for shooting movies on a budget of 10 million yen, full of youth and vitality. It had produced legendary directors like Nagisa Oshima, Kaneto Shindo, and Shohei Imamura—many of whom gained international fame.
But now, in the late 1980s, ATG had met its demise.
Films needed to make money. Having ideals and creativity alone wasn't enough to survive in the current society.
So, where would the "new" come from?
Shimaya thought of the person Master Jissoji had mentioned, and the film they were talking about.
*Wasn't the production budget around 10 million?*
He couldn't help but think of ATG, that company with its strong leftist leanings.
*Could Takeshi Iwata actually pull off a profit?*
This was the real key to why Shimaya proposed the "profit-sharing" distribution model. From Toho’s perspective, they wouldn't lose anything, so why not give it a try?
In his office at the Takarazuka Building, Shimaya held a cup of coffee and gazed out the window. The fact that he had such an office with such a view clearly indicated he was no ordinary middle manager. Yet, the pressure he felt at the moment was immense.
Just then, the intercom rang.
"Oh... please show them in."
Soon, Jissoji and Takeshi Iwata appeared in Shimaya’s office.
After some pleasantries, Shimaya asked his assistant to bring two cups of coffee, and the three of them sat down on the sofa.
In the business world, there were many ways to conduct a meeting. Japanese companies had "consultation rooms" for outsiders, though some were just partitioned cubicles; only powerful companies provided actual rooms. Moving up a step, one could talk to big shots across their desks. The next step up was sitting on a sofa, drinking coffee, and even smoking together.
These were the 'Japanese rules' that no one explicitly stated but everyone followed.
Shimaya showed great courtesy, partly because Master Jissoji was present, but he quickly revealed his other side.
"Iwata-san, if I’m not mistaken, you’re here to discuss distribution matters, right? So why did you need to bring Master Jissoji along?"
Shimaya said this with a smile, but his words were sharp: *You’re a grown man, Takeshi Iwata, can’t you come on your own? Is Master Jissoji your nanny?*
To his surprise, before Iwata could say anything, Jissoji spoke first: "I insisted on coming along."
Shimaya was confused.
Jissoji continued, "Director Iwata has written another screenplay. Although it’s not finished yet and is just a first draft, I feel it has enormous potential, so I came along."
Shimaya finally understood. Apparently, Master Jissoji was just too eager and afraid to miss out on this unfinished script, so he wanted to provide some context.
"I see. So it’s not just about distribution," Shimaya’s expression softened.
However, Iwata interrupted, "We are indeed here to discuss distribution."
This left Shimaya completely baffled.
Iwata then produced the first draft.
Master Jissoji smiled from the side, "Shimaya-san, please take a look at this script first."
Shimaya nodded solemnly and took it to read. He was mostly curious about what kind of story could have moved Master Jissoji like this.
As he began to read...
Two large characters immediately caught his eye:
*Avici.*
The police plant an undercover agent in the Yakuza, and the Yakuza plant an undercover agent in the police... this was incredibly novel!
But soon, he realized something.
This story was rooted in the 'Yama-Ichi War'!