Chapter 63: An Accidental Encounter with the Spring, That Summer, the Tranquil Sea

"Actually, I never planned on making a sequel at all."

"Huh? Then why were you saying all that earlier?"

"Well, at least I have no plans for one right now. Besides, just in case they make me an offer I simply cannot refuse, I suppose I could make a sequel then."

"Hahaha... You really are a sly young man, but still, *sugoi*!"

"Of course... But seriously, even if a sequel is to be made, it's best to wait for a while. Certain things need time to ferment, to settle. If you rush it, the result is rarely desirable."

"Yosh! Well said! Let's have a drink to those words!"

"Cheers."

...

Having resolved the issue of the Infernal Affairs sequel, Takeshi Iwata went out for a drink with Professor Jissoji.

The two of them talked about quite a lot, and Jissoji fully agreed with Takeshi's stance on the sequel.

It wasn't that the original subsequent installments of Infernal Affairs lacked brilliance, but rather that if one had the patience to properly polish the material—let alone waiting several years, even releasing one film a year—the outcome would be vastly superior.

For instance, in Infernal Affairs II, Carina Lau's character hands Edison Chen's character a mainland RMB note and tells him to hide out for a while. Yet that was set in 1991, and the currency used was entirely the red Mao Zedong bills. It was a glaring continuity error that could have been easily avoided, but it wasn't handled properly.

And so, something that could have been much better simply lost its chance.

Takeshi Iwata didn't wish to criticize anyone; he merely found it a bit of a pity. After all, in the Hong Kong film industry of that era, Infernal Affairs was a box-office savior, and everyone was counting on it to make money.

Right now, however, he wasn't in such a rush. Even if he were to make a sequel, he ought to prepare for it properly.

Besides, this project, Kill That Man, was obviously a much more fitting choice.

The year 1988 was about to pass, and when next year rolled around... Takeshi truly didn't want to watch Akina self-destruct like that.

It wasn't just because of his promise to Shinobu, but also his own personal conviction. He believed many others would feel the same way.

To self-destruct over a piece of human scum like that was simply not worth it!

Keeping Akina busy was one solution Takeshi could think of. He didn't know if it would succeed, but he had the confidence to direct this film well.

In truth, Akina possessed a great deal of potential when it came to acting. In last year's Life Crossing, wearing a pair of black-framed glasses, her cuteness could melt anyone's heart.

Yet this year, so much had changed, leaving people sighing with regret.

After chatting a bit more with Professor Jissoji about future plans, the bald old man revealed his intention to direct a major masterpiece.

The Stalker in the Attic.

Upon hearing this, Takeshi Iwata immediately adopted the mindset of "I don't understand, but I am deeply shocked."

This novel was a famous work by Edogawa Rampo. However, in terms of content, alongside mystery, it was equally famous for ropes, knots, and...

Takeshi Iwata was merely an honest, fierce man; he truly had no grasp of these complex operations. All those ropes tied together like a spiderweb—

As an honest man, he'd much rather stick to blood-splattering gunfights.

Was this old bald man Jissoji actually going to make a pink film?

Jissoji claimed it was to commemorate the 95th anniversary of Edogawa Rampo's birth.

Yeah, right! Pull the other one!

Takeshi still offered a word of advice: why not shoot some bizarre, uncanny ghost stories instead?

Akio Jissoji had, after all, been one of the directors for the first season of Tales of the Bizarre.

That genre didn't quite match Takeshi's personal style, and his current primary focus remained feature films.

Hearing this, Jissoji laughed heartily, admitting that he indeed had thoughts of directing in that genre as well.

The old man and the young man rambled on about all sorts of nonsense.

...

In fact, Takeshi remembered that Jissoji hadn't just directed The Attic; he had also directed The D-Slope Murder Case.

These two works... had a profound influence on Oniroku Dan's With a Serpent.

Whenever With a Serpent came to mind, he couldn't help but think of Kenichi Endo, that big-mouthed, ugly fellow (as the resident handsomeness pillar of the Iwata Crew, Takeshi Iwata had plenty of confidence in his teasing).

Endo later starred in two films alongside Aya Sugimoto, and his performances were actually quite decent.

How strange. Why would an honest, fierce man like him know about such things?

After dropping off a heavily intoxicated Jissoji at his home in Shinagawa Ward, Takeshi finally prepared to head back to Shinjuku.

Seriously, this trip had been quite a hassle and remarkably far.

...

Fortunately, there was the subway, and it wasn't rush hour right now.

There was a Nakanobu Station in Shinagawa Ward—the very station where a certain accountant would commit suicide shortly before the Tokyo Olympic Games.

Takeshi certainly understood how deep the waters of those Olympic Games ran, to the point where even Takeshi Kitano openly cursed and demanded refunds.

Yet, hearing those words "Nakanobu," could that accountant have been engaging in a protest by death? Was he hoping to suspend or postpone the Olympic Games?

Never mind, I'd better just catch the subway...

Lost in these stray thoughts for a moment, Takeshi felt a familiar figure brush past him.

He jerked his head around, and the person turned around as well.

"Um..."

"Iwata-san, you can call me Izumi Sakai."

The person smiled, a very clear and pure smile.

...

In Shinagawa Ward, the most famous thing was actually the license plates. The cars appearing in movies and television dramas most frequently bore plates with the Shinagawa designation.

In truth, there was no mysticism involved; it was simply because the Shinagawa-based agency equivalent to the Department of Motor Vehicles managed the vehicle registrations for several surrounding wards.

And these wards—Shibuya, Meguro, Minato, Setagaya... NHK, Tokyo's five major television networks, and all the major film studios were located right here.

Shinagawa Ward itself served as a transportation hub and a customs district, and at the time, real estate prices weren't overwhelmingly high. One had to remember that Setagaya, just across from Meguro, was the starting point of the real estate bubble burst, making this area very popular among young people.

Not far away lay Tokyo Bay, and Takeshi Iwata and Izumi walked along side by side.

Like two strangers.

"Been doing well lately?"

"Mm."

"Um..."

"The movie was great."

"Really?"

"Mm."

"Did you still..."

"Participate in the singing competition."

"Sorry, I didn't get to watch the live broadcast."

"It's fine, I'm really very grateful to Iwata-san."

"Izumi, you're being too polite."

The two of them were truly quite odd.

Izumi was naturally a shy person, practically the embodiment of social anxiety. Running into Takeshi unexpectedly like this caused her heart to flutter wildly in her chest like a trapped fawn.

Her head was lowered so much it looked as if the ground were covered in ten-thousand-yen bills. Fortunately, the weather was cold, which helped mask her blushing face.

Given her current condition, managing to speak at all was already quite an achievement.

As for Takeshi Iwata...

He certainly wasn't socially anxious, but along the way, he had definitely drawn plenty of bizarre glances.

Walking a young woman home—wasn't that only natural?

Tokyo in this era wasn't entirely peaceful; there were plenty of yakuza and various dangerous elements about.

Yet those gazes were clearly broadcasting:

You're the yakuza, aren't you?

You're the dangerous element, aren't you?

Damn it all!

And so, the two of them ended up walking in this manner.

However, the winter sea breeze was rather biting. Takeshi felt it and couldn't help quickening his pace a little.

At first, Izumi was puzzled by this movement, but soon, the sensation of the sea breeze whipping against her face lessened, and she understood.

Iwata-san really is a gentle person.

Yet this journey was almost at its end; the rented apartment building was right before them.

"Um..."

"Please go ahead."

"Iwata-san, it seems we forgot to exchange contact information."

Hearing this, Takeshi didn't even think. "I'm sure you'll officially debut soon, and by then you'll be a celebrity, so..."

As soon as the words left his mouth, this fellow wished he could slap himself across the face.

Wasn't he being a bit too honest?!

If anyone was to blame, it was that old bald man Jissoji... Professor Jissoji, who was truly resting at home while blame kept dropping onto him from the sky.

Izumi, of course, had no idea what Takeshi was thinking. Hearing those words, she only felt deeply encouraged.

"Arigato! Iwata-san!"

That's right, once she completed her debut, everything would... everything would be fine.

Instantly feeling full of vigor, Izumi even jogged up the apartment stairs.

The stairs were located on the exterior of the building, which was quite common in Japan.

Seeing her suddenly turn cheerful, Takeshi didn't quite understand why, but he found himself feeling happy for her nonetheless.

Suddenly, Izumi turned back around.

"Will you be directing a new movie?"

"Of course."

"Can you tell me the title?"

Although Takeshi had announced at Takarazuka that he would immediately shoot a new film to wait for Akina, he hadn't actually decided what to make yet.

Yet now, looking at Izumi's clear, smiling face and the distant Tokyo Bay, the words slipped straight out of his mouth.

"A Scene at the Sea."

Hearing this, Izumi felt a sudden jolt in her heart, as if she had been transported back to Kanagawa from a few months ago.

The blue sky, the blue ocean, the blue summer.

"Arigato!"

With that, she ran back into her room.

Takeshi Iwata stared at the door that had just slammed shut, completely baffled.

Scratching his head, he figured he might as well head back.

Still, it wasn't bad—he now knew what he would be filming next.

...

Kobe.

This had originally been a crucial port, particularly for receiving various supplies shipped from the United States.

The true starting point for the rise of the Yamaguchi-gumi had actually been the business of transporting American supplies.

Later on, they simply did whatever made money.

And now, the Yamaguchi-gumi had become the Yamamoto-gumi.

Yet many people probably wouldn't have guessed that boss Hiroshi Yamamoto was currently sitting in a movie theater, watching a film.

Naturally, he was the only person in the entire cinema.

What kind of movie could possibly hold such fascination for him?

On the large screen, Infernal Affairs was currently playing.

As he watched, a smile gradually appeared on the face of this bespectacled man, who looked far more like a businessman than a yakuza.