Nureki Chimuo Archive

The ability to see the endearing human nature that lies hidden behind the negative, the delicate sensibility and keen eye that allow one to perceive truths, subtle charm, humor, and even beauty, things found nowhere else, within what everyone else frowns upon and dismisses as ugly.

Minomura Ko was a man who possessed that sensibility.

In the previous installment of this series, I wrote a reply to Mr. ○○○○, who had called and written to me. Mr. ○○○○ was a complete stranger to me.

In that reply, I touched upon the work I am currently engaged in, and Minomura Ko’s name came up.

Since Minomura Ko’s presence has been deeply and significantly intertwined with my work up to this point, this was only natural.

Although this wasn’t the case at the beginning of my reply to Mr. ○○○○, before I knew it I found myself writing while vaguely picturing Minomura Ko in my mind.

Before long, Minomura Ko’s face, the sound of his voice, the way he walked, and the image of him working side by side with me at our desks came vividly back to me.

And in connection with Minomura Ko, Director Nakahara’s name also appeared in my reply to Mr. ○○○○.

Like Minomura Ko, Director Nakahara is also closely connected to my work.

However, Director Nakahara did not appear on the scene until several years after Minomura Ko’s death. The two never met.

Suddenly, it dawned on me. Ah, I see. That’s right. That’s exactly it. There’s no doubt about it.

The way they approach SM is the same. The warmth of Minomura Ko and the warmth with which Director Nakahara immerses herself in SM are one and the same.

Even though I say they’re the same, there are differences between men and women so naturally there are differences in how they express their passion and the ways they show their devotion. But to my sensibilities, the two are strikingly similar.

When it was decided that “Abument,” the monthly SM magazine Minomura-san and I had launched, would be discontinued due to poor sales, Minomura took the original artwork for illustrations that had already been published in “Uramado” and “Suspense Magazine,” one by one, and, cradling each piece tenderly in both hands with an expression as if he were about to cry, placed them into a cardboard box.

Those boxes, containing hundreds of original illustrations, were eventually destined to be moved to the warehouse of the publisher that put out “SM Select.”

“Abument” was devastated, and the editorial department had no choice but to disband. We, who had been editing “Uramado,” were under the relentless scrutiny of those in power. The original illustrations were destroyed in a fire. All of them were lost.

Decades later, in a room at the Sex Industry Museum in Fukagawa Sagacho, I can still vividly picture Director Nakahara, wearing cotton work pants, alone, carefulling placing each old SM magazine, one by one, into cardboard boxes with tender care from a mountain of them piled high. (She wasn’t the Director at the time; the Director was no longer there. She was the only one present.) That image still resurfaces behind my eyelids, overlapping with Minomura Ko.

This took place before the museum moved to its current location in Iidabashi. At that time, no clear decision had been made regarding whether to keep the Sex Industry Museum open.

“No,” she said, her eyes shining, standing tall and resolute, “I want to keep it going no matter what, and I will.”

Minomura Ko was a pure and honest person. He never once betrayed me. I was always relying on him.

Director Nakahara is even more pure-hearted than Minomura Ko, an honest person who never lies. Sometimes her honesty is almost frightening. Furthermore, she possesses a tenacious mental strength that Minomura Ko lacked.

him.)

(Minomura Ko was prone to tears and would sometimes let his emotions get the better of

I’m not joking. Women are stronger than men. They’re more resilient. Men are creatures whose bodies and hearts are more fragile than women’s.

And Director Nakahara possesses the sensitivity to see the lovable human nature lurking behind defeat, a delicate sensibility and keen gaze that allow her to perceive the truth of humanity, a “subtle charm,” tenderness, and even beauty in things that everyone else frowns upon and dismisses as ugly. In short, she is a woman who shares the same sensibility as Minomura Ko.

Wait, what am I writing here? This is no time to be sketching a portrait of Director Nakahara.

I am truly sorry, but the phone call and fax I received suddenly and without warning from Mr. ○○○○, followed by the twenty-four color-printer statements of purpose mailed to me the next day, served as a veritable cautionary tale for me.

It reminded me of Minomura Ko’s kindness and warmth when interacting with SM enthusiasts.

I also reaffirmed just how deeply Director Nakahara understands and empathizes with these enthusiasts, and how kind and warm-hearted she is toward them.

A kind and warm heart is possessed only by those who possess deep understanding, strong will, and a spirit of tolerance.

Though my efforts may be modest, I must fulfill my role in conveying Minomura Ko’s will to Director Nakahara and serving as the bridge between them.

Compared to these two, I am, unfortunately, a philistine. I am impure, insincere, and quite a liar.

Nevertheless, as someone caught between the generations of Minomura Ko and Director Nakahara, and who knows both of them, I must do my best to serve as a bridge between them.

A bridge that conveys the fact that there is such a thing as gentle, pure, and warm SM, not just for the sake of profit and commercial strategy.

With the intention of becoming that bridge, I must write “The Story of Minomura Ko,” who lived a life of gentle SM.