Nureki Chimuo Archive

Damn it, what a mess.

I just can’t bring myself to write about Terushi.

I try to write about him, but I just can’t.

I want to write about him, but I can’t.

What on earth is going on?

Is Terushi really that big of a deal?

No, I don’t really think he is. Nor do I think he’s a man with profound artistic talent.

I do think he’s a man with quite capable acting skills, but I’ve never thought he was exceptionally good.

It’s just that, to me, he’s an actor who’s on my mind.

Damn it, so why can’t I write about him? It’s frustrating.

He appears before us (Nakahara-san and me) with a mysterious, inexplicable charm that no other actor possesses.

What is that “something?”

It’s a kind of unique atmosphere, different from the ordinary. More than an atmosphere, it’s something more direct, a scent, a smell. It is, after all, an aura.

It’s a smell that defies description, no matter how hard I try. That’s why I’ve been struggling with this for nearly a month now.

I’ve made a living writing for a very long time, but it’s been a while since I’ve struggled this much.

Since I’m a professional writer, no matter how troublesome the subject, if I receive a commission, I can usually gloss over it, make the pieces fit together, and write something that looks the part.

But with this Terushi, damn it, I’m really struggling.

No way. I lost. It’s frustrating, but I am giving up. No, not giving up, I’m retreating.

For now, I’ll distance myself from Terushi. I can’t stay involved with him forever.

I’m busy, after all. I don’t have time to keep writing about that actor who’s like a vengeful spirit.

There are mountains of other things I need to write about. (Though, to tell the truth, Terushi’s art and our world of art aren’t entirely unrelated. There’s a deep, intimate connection between them. That’s why I’m so determined to take on Terushi.)

But, as frustrating as it is, for now, my abilities fall short of Terushi’s.

For now, I’ll step away from Terushi. If, after a while, Terushi still holds my heart, I’ll reignite my fighting spirit and challenge that man once more.

Right now, rather than thinking about Terushi, I need to document the photo shoot for our group Tomoshibi’s second photo book, “The Horsetail Garden.”

Due to an unexpected incident at the home next door to photographer Sachi Yamanouchi, the shoot had been postponed, but it finally took place without a hitch a few days later.

To cut to the chase, it turned out wonderfully.

Since I wrote the script, directed the key scenes, and even appeared in the work myself, writing that it was “a wonderful result” would literally amount to cheap self-praise.

However, this is a secret, but even before I could boast about it myself, the voices of self-praise coming from the Tomoshibi members as they looked at the results of the shoot were even louder.

Let me be clear. Their self-praise is by no means shallow or frivolous. At times, they offer such sharp self-criticism that it leaves me speechless.

Each member, from their own perspective, offers a well-founded and substantive assessment. On set, they demonstrated swift and precise movements that surpassed even my own understanding and execution, despite my having devoted the past sixty years to this work, and this has yielded excellent results.

When I look at their work, it’s clear they’ve observed even the minutest details I’d overlooked, and that delights me. A young sensibility is, after all, a precious thing.

Precisely because they are so much younger than I am, they all possess a sharp, keen sensitivity and a deep understanding of the difficulties of expression in this complex, bizarre, and labyrinthine world.

Honestly, I was impressed.

The highlight of the shoot was the scene where Hiromi Saotome, playing the character Hiromi (a married woman), and I, playing the role of Tamaru, a ruthless loan shark, forcefully made her bite down on a hand towel tied into a gag.

For me, it was a scene I’d done a thousand, two thousand, no, three thousand times before. I was well-practiced at it.

So, I instinctively set the staging quickly and went through the motions smoothly.

However, Nakahara-san would not allow it.

Nakahara-san’s responsibilities include production, scheduling, and editing the photo book after filming wraps.

Yet, we members of the Tomoshibi group sometimes all become directors. And when we do, we turn into strict directors.

“No, no, no, Sensei. That won’t do. That kind of half-hearted monkey’s fist won’t cut it!”

At Nakahara-san’s earnest rebuke, my heart skipped a beat, and I instinctively stopped tying the monkey’s fist.

(My heart skipped a beat because I had a premonition that she was going to say that.)

“There’s no strength in your fingertips, Sensei. This is supposed to be a very thrilling scene for Tamaru and Hiromi, isn’t it? The cloth isn’t just for show, it serves the crucial purpose

of ‘preventing Hiromi from making a sound.’ Tamaru shouldn’t let his guard down for even a single moment until he’s finished tying the rope. We don’t want to take a portrait of a face with the cloth tied neatly, do we? We want to see that thrilling process described in your script. Sense, put yourself in Tamaru’s shoes and show us those powerful movements of your fingertips.

To make sure the cloth you’ve wedged behind Hiromi’s teeth doesn’t come out, press down harder with your fingertips, and push it deep into her mouth, then use a narrow strip of cloth to cut across the top in a straight line, clamp it firmly between her upper and lower teeth. First tie it tightly at the back of her head, then, using another hand towel, cover Hiromi’s entire mouth with a large gag, pulling it tight… harder, harder, harder!”

Since this is not a film, Director Nakahara’s voice is not recorded here.

“Is this right? Is this good enough?”

At this point, I am nothing more than a performer, moving exactly as the director instructs.

Of course, what this director says is correct, so I move earnestly, just as I am told.

Actually, at this moment, I am more concerned with the reaction of Hiromi Saotome, who plays the married woman Hiromi.

Saotome has a small face, and proportionally, her mouth is small as well. When I force the rolled-up white cloth deep into her mouth, it immediately reaches her throat, making it difficult for her to breathe.

Watching Saotome’s changing expression, I put my strength into my fingertips and performed the harsh gag scene as Director Nakahara intended.

When I tied the first hand towel, which I had wedged between her teeth, at the back of her neck, Saotome’s cheeks made a gurgling sound.

Whistling breaths escaped her, and I heard a low, gasping voice.

If a gag enthusiast were here, the sheer intensity of the scene would be mind-boggling.

It was a shame this wasn’t a shoot intended to capture sound and movement.

However, even without sound or movement, photographer Yamanouchi’s delicate, shadow-filled photographs fully convey the intensity of this gag scene.

Hiromi remains in this intense bondage position as the loan shark grabs the end of her rope and drags her around the room.

Along with the harsh movements of her entire body, agonized moans escaped from within the gag, making it an even more stimulating, sadistic scene.

Nakahara-san, this time acting as the videographer, filmed a portion of this scene.

(I didn’t know at the time that she was filming with a video camera.)

Anyone interested in bondage who happens to see this footage will have encountered a scene that is both uniquely valuable and incredibly stimulating.

For that person, it is sure to be a legendary scene, one of such value that it will likely become a lifelong memory.

Hiromi Saotome is, after all, an actress. The spirit of the married woman Hiromi had truly taken hold of her. She did a great job. The filming of “The Horsetail Garden” continued on this day, just like this, for quite some time yet.