Chapter 62

Chapter 62: Naoki-san, Are You a Devil?

The Nakamori family went off to celebrate together.

Naturally, Nagayama Naoki could not follow them.

Still, he felt genuinely happy. After all, little chubby Akina had finally taken a crucial step forward. The future diva of countless styles no longer seemed so far away.

In his mind, he recalled Akina Nakamori at the peak of her career, as well as the lonely and fragile figure she would later become.

Then he looked again at the joyful backs of the Nakamori family as they celebrated together.

Hopefully, she would always remain this happy.

After leaving the television station, he realized it was not even noon yet. The recording efficiency was indeed impressive.

As the producer of “Yonimo Kimyona Monogatari”, Nagayama Naoki had already been absent for several days. Feeling slightly guilty, Producer-san decided to visit the filming site first, see whether he could help with anything, and conveniently secure a boxed lunch from the set.

Ito Shuichi’s studio had already become the dedicated filming location for “Yonimo Kimyona Monogatari”.

After driving there, Naoki discovered that the studio had undergone major reconstruction over the past few days. Outside, a large oval-shaped external structure had been built, and the interior had been fully transformed into the cabin of an airplane.

It seemed they were filming “Air Doctor”.

Seeing such a realistic airplane cabin constructed from nothing within just a few days, one could not help but admire early television set design.

In an era without special effects, realistic sets truly immersed viewers in the scene, standing confidently even when compared with future productions claiming budgets of hundreds of millions for post-production effects.

Director Ito Shuichi was inside the “airplane cabin,” explaining scenes to a large group of actors. The scene involved many performers and clearly tested the director’s skill.

Judging from his flashy clothing, he also appeared to be acting in a role himself.

The lead actor was an unfamiliar young performer. Somewhat handsome, but likely without much fame; otherwise, he would not be appearing in a still relatively unknown television drama.

What a pity. In Naoki’s memory, the original lead had been Oguri Shun, though he had not even been born yet.

The actress acting opposite him was quite beautiful, though she carried a slightly worldly aura. Could Shuichi really have invited a nightclub cosplay nurse to perform?

Knowing Ito Shuichi’s personality, that possibility was not small.

The set was busy, so Naoki refrained from entering and interrupting. After greeting several staff members, he went to the backstage office, read newspapers to rest, and waited for lunch.

Before he finished reading the papers on the table, Ito Shuichi pushed the door open.

“Naoki-san, stop slacking off here! You wrote this story, so you must take responsibility until the end!”

“???” Naoki looked confused. “Shuichi-san’s directing skills are clearly far better than mine.”

“Damn it… I really can’t refute that,” Ito Shuichi replied, looking defeated.

“But the finished feeling is like a group of people pretending to be someone else just to gain fame and praise. Isn’t that extremely hypocritical?”

“Huh? The script said it happened by coincidence, didn’t it?”

“But false is still false! Even if misunderstood, they should immediately explain the truth!

They’re saving lives here. What do these people think human life is?”

This point had not occurred to Nagayama Naoki.

In Showa-era 1981, although the spirit of chivalry had declined, society had not yet reached the post-21st-century atmosphere of entertainment above everything else. Concepts like human life, duty, and karmic consequence were still taken seriously.

Previous stories had leaned toward fantasy or horror, so such moral considerations had not received much attention.

But this story satirized reality and reflected society, making it necessary to align the plot with the spirit of the era.

Even memories from the future needed to match the current time.

After thinking for a moment, Naoki spoke.

“I see.”

Originally, the script ended happily, with everyone surviving.

But that conclusion conflicted with contemporary social values.

“Shuichi-san, in that case… why don’t we change the ending so the airplane crashes?”

“Huh?”

“I originally wanted even a flight attendant to land the plane successfully, but thinking about it, that’s actually impossible. It’s an extremely difficult and highly professional task.”

“So the original happy ending… we just remove it?”

“Hahaha. Before the crash, everything should still be perfect.

The doctor saves the patient.

The flight attendant defeats the criminal.

The anesthesiologist fulfills his wish.

The nurse avoids being exposed.

Everyone gets their highlight moment. Everyone smiles.

Then suddenly the scene cuts — the plane crashes at the airport.

The audience should realize that all deception, hypocrisy, and role-playing were ultimately futile.

Doesn’t that feel powerful?”

Following Naoki’s explanation, Ito Shuichi imagined the scene and involuntarily shivered.

“Naoki-kun… are you a devil? The audience will hate you.”

Manipulating audience psychology in this way felt almost demonic. At that moment, Nagayama Naoki resembled an evil final boss controlling human emotions.

“What are you talking about, Shuichi-san?” Naoki replied. “Wasn’t the ending of ‘Grandma’ also a huge twist?”

“That’s different. That twist shocked and frightened people.

But this kind of reversal completely toys with the audience’s emotions.

First you raise a beautiful but false expectation…

then you destroy it and reveal harsh reality.

There’s even a sense of dark humor and karmic retribution. It forces people to think.”

Naoki laughed.

“Karmic retribution? Then let’s add a bald actor pretending to be a monk.”

“As expected, Naoki-san really is a devil. You even dare involve the Buddha…”

Despite his complaints, Ito Shuichi quickly went to find a character actor suited for the role. A classic case of protesting while fully cooperating.

Although the ending changed, the core theme — everyone playing a role within society — remained intact.

If anything, the conclusion now carried deeper symbolism and would likely become even more popular.

Because of the newly added scenes and characters, lunch was delayed for a while, but Nagayama Naoki ultimately still obtained his boxed meal from the set.

When receiving the lunchbox, the staff member distributing meals certainly did not dare throw it onto the ground while accusing Naoki of delaying everyone’s lunch and singing, “You’re a piece of trash, your life worth less than an ant.”

During the afternoon shoot, Naoki conscientiously fulfilled his duties as producer. Thanks to his ready-made memories from the future, the filming progress accelerated significantly.

During a break, Ito Shuichi said, “Naoki-san really has talent in filmmaking. Why not learn directing from me?”

Naoki did not refuse. He already possessed memories related to “Hana Yori Dango,” and future opportunities in the film industry would surely increase.

Still, he could not speak too directly to a friend.

“I see, Shuichi-san. Since you’re inviting me so sincerely, I’ll reluctantly agree to learn from you.”

Ito Shuichi looked helpless.

“Damn it, you make it sound like I’m begging you! You bastard!”

But saying that meant he had already agreed to teach him.

That was simply how men interacted — awkwardly.