Today we will see a new episode of the drama “Laughing Matryoshka” at 22.00 p.m. on japanese time and at 15.00 p.m. on european time. Do not miss!
"Secretary's lies... Shocking relationship with mother and politician!?"
Hiroko(Saki Takaoka), the real mother of Seike(Sakurai Sho), may have orchestrated the death of her ex-husband Yoshikazu Seike (Kenjiro Nashimoto), as well as the death of Councilor Takechi (Shigemitsu Ogi).
Although such suspicions arise, Michiue is horrified when she learns that Hiroko visited the small restaurant of the Michiue family (Asami Mizukawa).
When Michiue visits Ehime again in search of Hiroko, she learns that Suzuki (Tetsuji Tamayama) lied and said, "I don't know anything," even though he knew Hiroko.
Why did Suzuki try to hide his relationship with Hiroko? As Michiue develops new suspicions, Suzuki remembers "one day" when he visited Seike's parents' house when he was in high school.
This bondage themed poster for Tetsuji Takechi's Hakujitsumu 2, aka Daydream 2, promotes the third iteration of a film he first made in 1967, then remade in 1981. It's labeled “2” because the first movie was a drama, while the second was x-rated.
Jikken Kōbō et Takechi Tetsuji, Pierrot Lunaire (tsuki ni tsukareta piero) , 1955, performance scénique, Sankei International Conference Hall, Tokyo, 5 décembre 1955
Amazing stills from the play Pierrot Lunaire (tsuki ni tsukareta piero), in collaboration with the art collective Jikken Kobo and Takechi Tetsuji. 1955. Photos by Ōtsuji Kiyoji
He believes that Mieko (Tanabe Momoko), his university sweetheart who appears under a pseudonym in his autobiography "Kigan", is behind the manipulation of Seike (Sakurai Sho) and tries to talk to her, but Michiue (Mizukawa Asami) is told that she will refuse all interviews from now on.
Michiue then interviews an alumnus of Kiyoya's at the time, and succeeds in obtaining hints to find her, such as the name of the woman who was supposed to be Mieko being "Miwako Miyoshi", her university, and her future dreams.
At the same time, Suzuki (Tamayama Tetsuji) is also remembering Miwako in his hospital bed.
Michiue then visits Fujita (Kunihiro Tomiyuki), the former policy secretary of Senator Takechi (Ogi Shigemitsu), whom Seike studied under, in order to obtain further information about Seike, Suzuki and Miwako from their university days.
There, he is confronted with an even more startling revelation…
Today we'll be treated to a new episode of the dorama "The laughing Matryoshka" at 22.00 p.m. on japanese time and 15.00 p.m. on european time. Don't miss it!
My fingers have the tendency to shake. My personal kryptonite when it came to my wishes of becoming a surgeon, or even a vet. I could focus so intently on keeping them steady and precise, but no matter how hard I tried, they would always tremble.
I remember the first time I got a tattoo. The needle, the bright fluorescent lights and the way the man's weight was so heavy against my freezing skin. I had waited outside for about an hour as part of some charity event. The harsh cold and unforgiving temperatures were enough to quell the anxiety that started to form against the inside of my mind.
He told me very carefully “Make sure you stay still.”
Right. That was easy enough. I didn’t always need to be tapping my foot or twirling a pen. All I had to do was relax into the plush coating of the bed and let him do his work. I remember that day being scary, the feeling of a hot iron nail is the only way I can describe it. But I did, stay still that is. At least I tried too. But the man didn’t mention a thing when my fingers started to twitch on the opposite hand.
Maybe my inability to stay still helped fuel the drive it took to get into Barden. The scholarships and trust funds not being enough to really cover my tuition. But it helped knowing someone in the admissions offices. They pulled strings, and I sat with my grasp wavering on a stack of folders and transcripts. They didn’t’ mention anything either.
The thing I realized most in life, is that people don’t seem to want to call you out on things. If you have a piece of lettuce from your lunch wedged between your teeth, they’re quick to rush you to the bathroom as a deep shade of red comes to your cheeks. But with nervous ticks like shaking hands? It’s a different story.
Beca’s gaze would always wander through the years, yet she bit her tongue. It was obvious, the way that she wanted to bring it up in moments that we were alone. In a way, I could keep the nerves from causing them to tremble too much when I focused on the little alternative girl who had a talent for mixing music.
She was different. So much so that she irked Aubrey’s anger and interest that I had never seen before. She had to hold things back more- take more control over the way her rage came to mind whenever Beca would bring up a snide, well thought you, comment.
I never objected. Not when the two of them argued like they did. I knew that I wouldn’t get a word in edgewise. I would just keep my hands in my pockets and rock back and forth from my toes to my heels. There was no need to push things, not unless they had to be pushed.
Beca was my co-captain and a damn good one. The two of us spent upwards of fifteen hours a week together, mixing tracks and planning out choreography. The two of us lounging lazily in her attic room as Amy snuck around with whatever flavor of the week she decided to taste.
It was during one of these long study sessions that she mentioned my hands.
I was lounging across her bed, the blankets dented under my weight as I let out an exasperated sigh, shoving the book that I was holding to my side as I blinked against the ceiling light that suddenly filled my view. Beca had her feet up on her desk, laptop resting near her knees.
She averted her gaze away from her work as soon as I stretched out my fingers and grumbled in frustration, staring at them for a few moments before closing my eyes. It was hard to read when the words were too distorted to decipher.
“Hey, Chlo?” Beca asked, her voice soft as I moved my forearm over my gaze, trying to blink away the blue light that was obstructing my vision. It was afterlight- something I got when I stared at anything slightly bright for more than a few seconds. I was used to it like I was used to the shaking.
I didn’t answer, too lost in my thoughts. They were racing a mile a minute while the bed dipped slightly near my head- the metal springs creaking and groaning under the small DJ’s weight. The gentle touch of a finger jabbed into my ribs. Another grumble moving from my throat.
“Chlo?”
“Beca.”
“What are you trying to read?”
The question threw me off, I didn’t think that would be her first reaction. She had seen me come apart at the seems a couple of times before, but just like everything else she bit her tongue and looked the other way. This time, she curled up into a little ball at the top of the bed and pulled at the pages of the book.
“The history of Japanese theatre,” I grumbled, not opening my eyes, anticipating the questions that were sure to flood in. I didn’t have the patience to sit through and pick through my psyche. “It’s for Drama 108.”
“Oh,” Beca said in a hushed tone as the silence fell over us once more. I was internally begging, pleading that she starts to just hound me. Press further for something that she wanted, something that she needed to here. She let out a thick sigh as I squeezed the fabric of the comforter, white knuckling it.
“In 1949 critic, director, and producer Takechi Tetsuji began offering brief runs of controversial kabuki stagings in Osaka.” The brunette had a soothing voice, one that finally made me whip my head to the side as my eyes widened slightly. “These “Takeuchi Kabuki” were instrumental in nurturing Kamigata.”
“Beca,” I whispered, listening to her speak softly- not changing her tone. Her features scrunched up every once and awhile at the different names for plays and their creators, but she never faltered, not for a good ten minutes. “Beca.”
“Hmm?” She finally glanced up, hair falling into her indigo gaze as she kept both of her hands on either side of the book. She parted her lips slightly, confused on why I had made her stop.
“What are you doing?”
“Reading?” She mirrored incredulously.
I swallowed roughly, my mouth dry as I stared down at the different paisley designs on the covers. “Why?” my voice was barely above a whisper.
“Chlo, something is clearly stressing you out.” She said, “I’ve uh… I’ve never seen it this bad before. So just let me read to you, okay?”
I stared at her, feeling the lump edge at the center of my throat. No one had ever done something like this without making a big deal about why- yet her was this girl who used sarcasm as her second language, willing to drop everything and read through a history of something she clearly couldn’t pronounce.
I sniffed, fighting back the urge to cry as Beca nodded knowingly, flicking her eyes back to the pages of the book. “Okay.”
“Today the theatre division of entertainment con-glo-mer-a” She squinted, holding the book further from her stare. “That’s a fucky word. I’m skipping it.”
I chuckled slightly, getting a glimpse of a whole new side of Beca, one that didn’t ask questions. One that kept her focus steady, and slowly wrapped her fingers around mine, even if they were trembling like crazy.