Chapter 18: Let's Call Her Izumi Sakai

Chapter 18: Let’s Call Her Izumi Sakai

As the city lights flickered on and stars dotted the sky, two young women strolled slowly along the curved coastline of Kanagawa.

“Actually... I’m really sorry,” one murmured.

“Why would you be sorry? Sachiko-nee, just say whatever’s on your mind,” the other replied gently.

“Of course, I want to, but...” Sachiko hesitated.

“Sachiko-nee, what will you do if you keep like this? I’m still a middle schooler. What if you can’t speak up in front of other adults?”

“No, no, it’s just that whenever I think about troubling you all, I feel so apologetic.”

“That’s okay. Besides, don’t worry about that uncle. Look at his fierce expression—he hardly seems like the type to be bothered by troubles.”

“Haha... But isn’t it rude to say that about Iwata-san?”

“He’s Uncle Iwata. Don’t worry, he looks fierce but he’s actually a good person.”

“Yeah, I can sense that too, but… well, to be honest, I’ve been really lost lately.”

“Lost? That’s a tough topic. I’m just a middle schooler; I don’t think I can help much.”

“That’s true, but my confusion is…”

“Uncle, hurry up!”

Behind the two girls was none other than Takeshi Iwata. Shino’s call had indeed quickened his pace a bit.

Sachiko Pachi was, of course, none other than Izumi Sakai! When they met at the cafeteria, Iwata had already recognized her, which was why he had approached them.

Wait a moment—if he thought about it now, he might be a bit older than Izumi Sakai... but never mind, some details are better left unconsidered.

Iwata’s decision to speak up was because he sensed Sakai wanted to talk. Though he was behind them, he had overheard their conversation clearly.

Considering what he knew of Sakai’s past, he had a pretty good idea.

“Are you lost about your future?” he asked simply.

Sakai nodded heavily.

“Sachiko, since you’re so interested in showbiz, do you want to hold a concert at Budokan, just like Shino?”

She shook her head vigorously.

“But you’re not in Tokyo now. Did you fail to make it in entertainment? Worse, did you suffer a crushing defeat?”

That third question finally made Sakai open up.

“Iwata-san, to be honest, I’ve done some photo shoots before, but they didn’t get much attention…”

This photo shoot was an essential step for any aspiring female entertainer—a kind of trial before officially debuting.

Of course, in this island nation, competition was fierce everywhere, and the entertainment industry was no exception.

Iwata remembered that Shino’s debut photo shoot had been taken by the famous photographer Kishin Shinoyama.

Don’t underestimate this man; he was the most renowned portrait photographer in showbiz.

About Kishin Shinoyama… in fact, he used to be a photographer at Shochiku studios. He had worked on the epic film series directed by Yoji Yamada, “The Story of Torajiro.”

One particularly memorable scene was in episode ten of the series, where there was a wedding scene photographed by Shinoyama.

Why was this scene so well known?

Because the wedding was real—the two actors were genuinely getting married. They had no money for a proper ceremony, so director Yamada arranged a staged wedding that was, in fact, genuine.

This story was told widely, and naturally, not only were actors Kiyoshi Atsumi and Chieko Baisho mentioned, but Kishin Shinoyama’s name was also brought up.

This story showed how cutthroat the entertainment world was—actors could be so poor, and even big companies like Shochiku could be heartless.

Perhaps Shinoyama, tired of Torajiro’s constant romantic failures, gave up on movie photography to focus solely on beautiful women.

Not only beautiful—they were often shot in daring, revealing styles. Maybe he had been pent-up for too long.

Shino’s photo shoot was of a wholesome nature.

It was clear this girl was cherished by her sister and Toho Studios; even her trial photo shoot had top-tier resources.

Sachiko was not so lucky. Her photo shoot was ordinary, and in such a fiercely competitive industry with so many stunning beauties competing for attention, it naturally failed to cause much of a stir.

Sachiko did not hide any of this; in fact, she wanted to share it all.

Thus, Iwata and Shino heard the bittersweet story of a girl from Kanagawa struggling to make it in Tokyo.

And at this moment…

“The money I earn as an entertainer is just too little. I’m too afraid to go home, and Tokyo’s rent is so expensive, so I’m just working part-time to get by. Honestly, I…”

She poured her heart out but then became shy again.

Shino felt even more sympathy for Sachiko. “Nee-san, you’ve really been through a lot. This kind of life is so hard…”

“It’s nothing really. After all, as an entertainer, you wait for gigs. I don’t get many, so working part-time helps keep me busy. But…”

She fell silent, as if wanting to say something but couldn’t.

Iwata had already understood. After some thought, he decided to play the villain.

“So, you’re thinking about quitting altogether?” he said flatly.

Sachiko seemed to catch on immediately but showed no embarrassment this time. Instead, she nodded.

Shino finally understood. “So… then…”

She wanted to say, “If it’s too hard, just quit,” but she couldn’t, because she herself hoped to make an official debut in entertainment, and even dreamed of performing at Budokan.

How could she tell Sachiko to give up?

Iwata was different. Seeing Sakai nod, he stopped walking and gazed out at the distant sea.

“Quitting isn’t bad—living as an ordinary person, leading an ordinary life. But I’ll remind you, ordinary people have ordinary worries. The daily grind and anxieties of life aren’t any lighter than the stress of no gigs.”

Shino couldn’t help but protest, “Uncle! What are you talking about?!”

But Sachiko smiled and said, “Thank you, Iwata-san. I appreciate your encouragement.”

Encouragement?

Was that really encouragement? Wait a moment.

Shino seemed to sense that Iwata’s words were actually sarcasm.

Iwata shook his head helplessly. “I’m not trying to motivate you. I’m just telling the truth. The entertainment world holds hope and dreams, but the path to achieving them is extremely hard.”

His tone was a bit old-fashioned, but he genuinely wanted to encourage Izumi Sakai.

Sachiko nodded again, then suddenly said something seemingly unrelated.

“Actually, I saw you filming before.”

“Oh, really?” Shino had heard this before at the restaurant, but hearing it again made her a bit embarrassed.

Did Sakai notice her clumsy acting?

Iwata looked curiously at Sachiko.

“I saw you filming, and it looked so much fun. The atmosphere on set was wonderful. But I’m a timid person—I don’t think I’ll ever act in films. I envy you a lot.”

Sakai’s gaze involuntarily dropped.

“When we met at the cafeteria, I just had to ask… why are you so happy?”

So that was it.

Iwata had an idea: according to the usual entertainment storylines, he should sign up promising talent for his own projects.

Unfortunately, he mainly made films, while Sakai’s main focus was singing. She was too shy to appear on camera, so he couldn’t just ask her to act in movies.

There was another reason—Sakai’s agency, called Star Group, was formidable. They had produced many famous actresses, and their boss was quite open-minded.

It was rare for an agency to tolerate their artists dating or even marrying. They also maintained a clear boundary with the yakuza.

So if Iwata truly wanted the best for Sakai, he should encourage her now to…

Wait a minute. Could it be that it was Iwata’s very presence that kept Sakai on her entertainment path?

If so, then he was quite remarkable!

While Iwata was lost in such thoughts, Shino interrupted.

“I don’t know about you, Uncle, but for me, this isn’t just about acting in movies.”

Oh, so that’s why she was so happy.

Iwata’s expression was odd.

Sachiko smiled softly. “I understand now. Thank you, Shino. Thank you, Iwata-san.”

Did she truly understand?

Was the encouragement complete?

Shino was direct. “You can do it!”

Sachiko pumped her fist. “I’ll definitely do my best!”

And Iwata?

“How about singing?”

Shino looked puzzled.

But Iwata wasn’t finished. “I think it’s probably the name. Have you got a stage name yet? How about Izumi Sakai?”

“Ah?” This time, Sachiko was surprised.

Iwata explained, “Izumi means ‘spring water,’ flowing endlessly, eternally alive. Even in drought, wind, or sun, it never stops.”

Sachiko’s face lit up with a smile. “Thank you!”

After a sincere thanks, she turned and ran away.

Honestly, Iwata couldn’t understand why she ran.

He simply didn’t realize the deep impression he had made on Sachiko—no, on Izumi Sakai’s heart.

He only knew he had become the one who pushed history forward.

A silly grin spread across his face.

Shino saw this and couldn’t help teasing, “What are you smiling about?”

“Ouch!” Iwata winced, hopping about.

“You brat!”

“Haha… can’t catch me, huh? Nyah nyah…”

The night in Kanagawa was full of charm and fun.

…

Toyohiro Matsushige had already joined the crew of the film “The Violent Man.”

But Matsushige was very confused.

Why?

Because what he saw was that this violent film was currently shooting only one type of scene.

Walking.

Ryousuke Wagatsuma, played by Takeshi Iwata, walked continuously through Tokyo’s streets, over pedestrian bridges, and down narrow alleys.

What kind of filming technique was this?

Matsushige didn’t understand, but he was deeply impressed!

In fact, even Seiji Neko, when filming in Kanagawa, had been struck by how many scenes of “walking” they shot.

A note: to maintain some distinction from reality, character birthdays may differ slightly. Please understand.

(End of chapter)