Tokyo: My Best Actor Gear List

Chapter 40 Farewell and Rebirth

Inside the departure hall of Narita Airport, outside the huge floor-to-ceiling windows, lies a runway that has been baked white by the summer sun.

Passengers hurried by, their suitcase wheels scraping against the polished marble floor with a somewhat harsh sound.

The announcements kept repeating flight arrival and departure information, a mix of Japanese, English, and Chinese, creating a unique kind of cacophony of farewell.

Akina Nakamori was wearing a large beige trench coat, sunglasses that covered most of her face, and a fisherman's hat.

She stood outside the security checkpoint's barrier, pulling a simple carry-on suitcase.

There were no bodyguards, no assistants, and none of the media reporters who used to swarm around her like flies.

Now, she is no longer the diva who carries the expectations of the nation, but just an ordinary young girl preparing to go to New York to study music.

"That's enough for now."

She stopped, turned around, and looked at Kitahara Shin, who had been walking silently beside her.

Kitahara Shin wasn't wearing a suit today, but rather a casual jacket and jeans, holding two cans of iced coffee he had just bought from a vending machine.

He handed one of the cans to Akina.

"What are your plans after you go to New York?" he asked.

"Learn jazz, watch Broadway musicals, and then... find a park where nobody knows me and sing loudly."

Akina took the coffee, holding it in her hand and feeling its coolness. "I want to forget the me who used to sing to please others, and rediscover the me who sings because I love singing."

"Sounds good." Kitahara Shin smiled. "If you run out of money, remember to give me a call. I'm a 'box office miracle' now, and my salary has gone up quite a bit."

Akina chuckled, her eyes curving into crescents behind her sunglasses.

"Come on, I may have paid a hefty penalty for breach of contract, but I still have my royalties from before. I can support myself without any problem. But you..."

She stopped smiling, and her tone became serious. "Now you're a 'celebrity' being watched by countless people. That industry is dirtier than I imagined. Be careful not to get swallowed up."

"rest assured."

Kitahara Shin pointed to his heart. "I know what I'm doing, and besides, I'm not exactly a saint."

They both remained silent for a while.

The crowd around them was like an invisible river, encircling them.

"Kitahara-kun."

Akina suddenly took a step forward and stretched out her hands.

She didn't hug him, but instead, like an old friend, even with a touch of boyish boldness, she held his hand tightly.

"Thank you, really."

Her voice was soft but firm: "Without you, I might have turned into ashes by now. You pulled me out of the fire and gave me a sword."

"It was just mutual help." Kitahara Shin grasped her hand, his palm warm. "You've helped me a lot too."

"Wait for me to come back."

Akina let go, took a step back, and pulled the handle of her suitcase. "Back then, I'll be an even stronger singer, strong enough to set the rules in this industry, just like you."

"it is good."

Kitahara Shin looked at her, "When I become a true protagonist too."

"It's a deal then, see you at the summit."

Akina waved to him one last time, then turned and walked into the security checkpoint.

She left resolutely, never looking back. That once precarious figure on the beach is now upright and full of strength.

Kitahara Shin stood there until her figure completely disappeared around the corner.

He took a sip of his iced coffee, the bitter taste spreading in his mouth, yet it made him feel unusually clear-headed.

The war that belonged to Akina is over.

But his war has only just begun.

Stepping out of the airport terminal, a wave of heat hit me.

Summer of 1989 was drawing to a close, and autumn was just around the corner.

In this most frenzied era of the bubble economy, countless opportunities are created every day, and countless bubbles burst.

The mobile phone in my pocket suddenly rang.

Those old-fashioned, brick-like telephones had a shrill, urgent ring.

Kitahara Shin answered the phone: "Hello, this is Kitahara."

"I am Kitano."

A muffled voice, yet with a strange rhythm, came from the other end of the phone.

That's the kind of voice only an old performer who has spent years in the Asakusa entertainment scene and seen through the fickleness of human nature has.

Kitahara Shin paused for a moment, then realized what was happening.

Takeshi Kitano.

The man known as the "Emperor of Japanese Comedy," the eccentric genius who is still cracking jokes on variety shows and trying to cross over into directing.

"Mr. Kitano? Hello." Kitahara Shin's tone immediately became respectful.

"I've seen your movie, that thing called 'Yakuza Blood'."

Takeshi Kitano speaks very directly, even with a hint of nonchalance, "That old man Fukasaku filmed too noisily, but you're different. You're like a block of ice in that mess."

"...Thank you for your compliment."

"I'm currently preparing for a film, which I'll direct and act in myself. I didn't originally intend to cast a handsome guy, but I feel that you have a certain energy that's quite similar to mine."

The sound of a lighter being lit came from the other end of the phone. "Interested in playing an even stranger role? Not the cool gangster type, but a more... how should I put it, a more 'violent' cop."

"The Violent Man".

Upon hearing the title, Kitahara Shin's grip on the phone tightened slightly.

"It would be my great honor."

Kitahara Shin didn't show excessive elation; instead, he remained remarkably calm. "When is the audition?"

"Come to my studio tomorrow afternoon. Don't wear a suit. Just dress like a jerk who could kill someone on the street at any moment, but looks like a typical office worker."

"Beep, beep, beep..."

The phone hangs up.

Kitahara Shin put away the heavy, brick-like mobile phone and looked up at the cloudless blue sky outside Narita Airport.

The plane streaked across the sky, leaving a white contrail.

Akina went to the other side of the ocean to find a new life, while he also stood at a crossroads in his career.

The warning from Kinji Fukasaku at the celebration party a few days ago still echoed in my ears: "The label of 'rabid dog' is too strong, so strong that it may become your shackles."

Indeed, in the past few days, eight out of ten scripts handed to his agent, Daejeon, were for him to play a "psychopathic killer" or a "madman in the underworld."

If he accepts all the roles, he might spend his life wallowing in the quagmire of "bad roles," eventually becoming the kind of stereotypical actor that audiences are tired of seeing.

"Kitano Takeya..."

At that time, Takeshi Kitano was just a genius comedian known as "Peter Takeshi" in the eyes of the world, and no one knew what he would make after picking up the director's baton.

People in the industry are even waiting to see this comedian make a fool of himself, thinking that his filmmaking is just a hobby.

But Kitahara Shin saw this as an opportunity.

An opportunity to wash away the strong "bloody smell" and try a different kind of "silent acting".

"If you don't want to be a mad dog for the rest of your life, you have to learn how to hide your fangs."

He took a deep breath of the air, thick with the smell of engine oil and the heat, put on his sunglasses, and strode toward the parking lot.

Footsteps echoed on the empty concrete ground.

That was the sound of feet on solid ground.