Tokyo Literary Masters: Starting from the Late 1980s

Faced with Editor-in-Chief Sato's cautious tone, Kitahara Iwa's behavior on the other end of the phone was completely unexpected.

Kitahara Iwa showed no sign of disappointment or anger, and his breathing rate remained unchanged.

While holding the phone between his shoulder and arm, Kitahara Iwao slowly and meticulously folded the scattered manuscript of "The Cry" on the table, saying, "I understand, Sato-san. It's normal that it didn't win the grand prize."

"You could even say that if Confessions really wins the Naoki Prize this year, it would be somewhat undeserving of the honor."

"...Huh?"

Sato on the other end of the phone was completely stunned.

Before the editor-in-chief could react, Kitahara Iwao began his cold and precise self-analysis: "The reason why 'Confessions' was shortlisted is because it cleverly used the perspective reversal and narrative structure."

"But in the eyes of those old-school judges who stick to the classic mystery genre, its tricks and logical deductions are too weak, lacking the intellectual thrill of rigorous puzzle-solving."

"What's even more fatal is that it's somewhat weak in its exploration of human nature."

After finishing the manuscript, Kitahara Iwao picked up his cup of cold coffee, took a sip, and continued, "In order to pursue the ultimate emotional catharsis and commercial satisfaction, I deliberately made the characters in the book, whether it's Moriguchi Yuko or Watanabe Shuya, into extreme and stereotypical forms."

"It is a sharp knife used to pierce society, but it lacks the gravitas required by traditional literature and the profound compassion for the tragedies of the times."

"A novel created solely for emotional catharsis does not deserve the highest honor of the Naoki Prize."

Hearing Kitahara Iwao's merciless words, Editor-in-Chief Sato on the other end of the phone was completely shocked.

He opened his mouth, but couldn't speak for a long time.

A young, famous author who sold millions of copies of his books and whose popularity even Kadokawa Haruki had to defer to, was able to transcend all the glamour and examine his own shortcomings with such precision and objectivity.

This clarity of mind is more frightening than his talent.

After analyzing the shortcomings of the work, Kitahara Iwa stood up, looked out the window, and said with a sincere smile, "There's also..."

"Sato-san, thank you for your hard work this time."

"Actually, I heard it from editor Machida."

"You've put in a lot of effort to get 'Confessions' onto this list, calling familiar judges and publishing veterans every night to lobby them. To smooth things over, you've not only used up your past connections but also had to put up with the attitudes of those conservatives."

Kitahara Iwao said with undisguised gratitude, "Sato-san, I will remember this favor."

On the other end of the phone, Editor-in-Chief Sato, who had been feeling guilty for not being able to help Kitahara Iwa secure a better chance of winning, couldn't help but feel a little teary-eyed upon hearing these words.

He suddenly felt that all the grievances he had suffered over the past two weeks, begging for help and swallowing his pride, were worth it.

It's not just because of Kitahara Iwa's immeasurable commercial value, but also because of the young man's clear-headedness and his understanding of gratitude.

"Mr. Kitahara, you flatter me. This is simply my duty as editor-in-chief..."

Editor-in-Chief Sato's voice choked slightly: "As for what you just said, the shortcomings in reasoning and the depth of human nature..."

Kitahara Iwa didn't let Editor-in-Chief Sato continue with the pleasantries. His gaze slowly moved down and finally landed on the manuscript of "The Cry," which already had tens of thousands of words written on it.

Kitahara Iwa said softly, "Sato-san, please look forward to my next work."

"I will make up for all my shortcomings in the next film."

"Then, we'll take the Naoki Prize back from those old men on the judging panel in a fair and square manner."

The apartment returned to silence after the call ended.

Kitahara Iwao turned his gaze away from the Tokyo scenery outside the window and onto the audition list for the movie "Confessions" on his desk.

Two days later.

Kadokawa Daiei Studios, First Casting Room.

The auditions, which lasted for several days, had almost exhausted everyone's patience, and the ashtrays were already piled high with stubbed-out cigarette butts.

Kadokawa Haruki irritably tugged at his expensive silk tie, slammed the last few actress resumes in his hand onto the table, breaking the suffocating silence in the room.

"Kitahara-kun, Director Ichikawa. The crew makes a lot of money every day we start work, we can't keep going like this indefinitely."

The producer, pushed to his limit, spoke with the decisiveness and exhaustion typical of a businessman: "Today is the last day of auditions. If we still can't find the perfect monster you're looking for, then we'll have to bow to reality and pick someone who's somewhat passable from the big-name actresses who auditioned a few days ago."

Ichikawa Kun, sitting in the middle, sighed, his signature cigar between his fingers.

Although the eyes hidden behind the reading glasses were filled with weariness and resentment at compromise, the visual master finally nodded slowly.

Kitahara Iwa looked at the list beside him, which had been largely crossed out, and after a moment of silence, could only helplessly agree, "If we really can't find it, then this is the only way."

……

"You've worked hard, let's call it a day."

Haruki Kadokawa rubbed his temples wearily and waved to signal the staff that they could pack up their things.

As the last actress candidate bowed and left the stage with regret, this casting marathon that lasted for several days seemed to be finally coming to a regretful end amidst compromises and resentment.

Kitahara Iwa and Ichikawa Kun exchanged a glance, both seeing a hint of helpless compromise in each other's eyes.

Just then.

boom!

The heavy, soundproof door was suddenly pushed open from the outside.

"Wait! Sawaguchi-san! You can't go in! The audition is over now, and this role isn't right for you!"

Toho Entertainment's top manager chased after him, sweating profusely, his voice filled with despair and on the verge of tears, but he couldn't stop the person walking in front of him at all.

When the woman stepped into the room filled with the smell of smoke and murky hormones, the air in the casting room seemed to freeze for a moment.

This person's name is Yasuko Sawaguchi.

This national-level actress, who debuted with the Cinderella aura of Toho and was hailed as "the last beauty of the Showa era," suddenly barged in.

She didn't wear the elaborate gowns that other female stars meticulously prepared for their auditions.

She was wearing only a plain white dress with no embellishments and minimalist nude makeup.

Her signature short black hair lay smoothly beside her ears, highlighting the perfect face that the entire nation of Japan could see on television every morning.

At this moment, her face was adorned with the most standard, most healing smile, the kind that seemed to melt away all ice and snow—the smile of a morning drama heroine.

"Sawa...Sawaguchi!"

Upon seeing who it was, Haruki Kadokawa was so shocked that he jumped up from his boss's chair.

He was completely unaware that the Cuban cigar he had just lit had fallen onto his expensive suit trousers, even burning a hole in them.

"What's wrong with the people at Toho?"

Haruki Kadokawa looked utterly bewildered, his tone utterly absurd and incredulous: "Sawaguchi-san, did you come to the wrong audition room? We're filming 'Confessions' here, casting a cold-blooded, vengeful murderer!"

For this big-name actress with extremely high national popularity, Haruki Kadokawa naturally dared not underestimate her acting skills and commercial value.

But he simply couldn't reconcile the cleanest, most soothing face in all of Japan before him with the chilling teacher in the script.

Despite Kadokawa Haruki's astonishment, Sawaguchi Yasuko remained unusually calm.

Completely ignoring her agent's desperate tugs from behind, she walked lightly to the long table and bowed deeply with dignified posture.

"President Kadokawa, Director Ichikawa, and Mr. Kitahara."

"I'm Yasuko Sawaguchi. I'm here today to audition for Yuko Moriguchi."