Otaku Translation: Absolute Number One C76

Please support the translation by reading the translation and commenting on otakutl official site.

Thank you.

Everyone from

Chapter 76: Touching, Truly Touching

hadn’t expected the “half-bald harasser” to recognize him. He quickly studied the man’s face and realized he was no spring chicken—likely over fifty. Thin and wiry, with a receding hairline that spoke volumes about his struggles with .

Baldness wasn’t uncommon in Japan—the country ranked fourth globally and first in Asia for its prevalence. Once men hit their thirties, they were practically on borrowed time. From slightly thinning to fully bald, Tokyo’s streets boasted enough variety to host a "." The exact cause remained scientifically unexplained, though stress was often cited as the culprit.

Still, something about this man felt familiar, though Chihara couldn’t quite place him. Out of politeness, he asked, “You are…?”

“Ah, Chihara-sensei, you’ve forgotten me already? I’m from . We met briefly at last year.”

Nagano Teppei had an easygoing demeanor, showing no offense at being forgotten. His smile remained warm and welcoming. Chihara racked his brain and finally remembered—he’d encountered this man during his brief visit to TEB months ago when signing some paperwork. At the time, Nagano had been accompanied by , a promising newcomer who left more of an impression than her manager did.

“Oh, my apologies, Nagano-senpai!” Chihara said with a sheepish grin.

“No harm done,” Nagano replied, waving it off. He glanced behind Chihara at Futazeno Seiko, who had subtly shifted closer to him. “And who might this young lady be?”

“She’s…” Chihara hesitated. Technically, they were acquaintances at best, but after a moment’s thought, he settled on a diplomatic response. “She’s the younger sister of a friend. Is there something you need with her, Nagano-senpai?”

Nagano’s eyes lit up. “Forgive me for being so forward, but I believe she has potential as a model. I’d like to invite her to join our agency.”

Chihara blinked, turning to look at Futazeno Seiko. Now that Nagano mentioned it, he could see the appeal. With sharp features uncommon among Asians, photogenic looks, and a statuesque figure, she certainly fit the bill for a modeling career. Acting might even be within reach if she trained properly.

But Futazeno shook her head vigorously, signaling her disinterest. She’d only been sent on a trivial errand—a losing round of rock-paper-scissors forced her to fetch snacks—and stumbled into this awkward situation on her way back.

Chihara turned back to Nagano, offering an apologetic smile. “I don’t think she’s considering such opportunities right now. But if she changes her mind, I’ll make sure she contacts you first.”

Nagano sighed, accepting defeat gracefully. “Very well. If that’s how it must be.” Pausing, he seemed to remember something else. “By the way, I heard rumors about Murakami-san leaving her position at TEB because of Ishii-san. Is that true?”

Chihara was caught off guard by the sudden question but saw no reason to deny it. “Yes, it’s true.”

Nagano frowned, shaking his head. “I never imagined Ishii-san would stoop to such tactics. In the past…”

As the head of a small talent agency reliant on the big five networks, Nagano treaded carefully. Though displeased, he dared not speak ill of those in power, leaving his sentence unfinished. Sensing this, Chihara interjected smoothly, “Don’t worry, Nagano-senpai. She’s fine. She’s found new work, and honestly, the environment is better than before.” So far, he hadn’t noticed anyone treating her differently, which reassured him.

Relieved, Nagano nodded repeatedly. “That’s good to hear. Where is she working now?”

“. She’s preparing a new program.” Chihara gave a brief overview of their current project. As Nagano listened, his expression softened, and he murmured, “So that’s how it is. What a relief. Murakami-san truly chose wisely in trusting you, Chihara-sensei. I can see I have nothing to worry about.”

Having spent years navigating the industry, Nagano understood all too well what had transpired. Despite running a modest agency, he pieced together the puzzle effortlessly. Murakami Iori had been Chihara’s patron, and when she fell victim to betrayal, Chihara didn’t hesitate to sever ties with TEB to stand by her side. In an increasingly cutthroat world, loyalty like this was rare.

Touching, truly touching.

Nagano’s heartfelt praise made Chihara uncomfortable. To clarify, he humbly downplayed his actions. While pragmatic at heart, Chihara valued long-term gains over fleeting benefits. A steadfast ally outweighed short-term profits any day. This humility only deepened Nagano’s respect for him.

The conversation left Chihara uneasy. He knew Nagano had misunderstood certain details but couldn’t find the words to explain without sounding defensive. Eventually, he bid the older man farewell, watching as Nagano wandered off in search of fresh talent—his quest akin to prospecting in the wild.

Once Nagano disappeared, Futazeno Seiko stepped forward, thanking Chihara shyly. He dismissed her gratitude with a casual smile. “It was just a misunderstanding. He’s not a bad person—I’ve heard good things about him. If you ever consider entering the entertainment industry, his agency wouldn’t be a bad choice.”

Futazeno shook her head firmly. “I really have no interest in modeling or acting.”

“Fair enough,” Chihara replied, letting the matter drop. The entertainment industry was notoriously brutal, testing one’s moral limits. For someone with pride, it was best avoided altogether. Take his eldest apprentice, for instance. Her descent into darkness likely stemmed from the relentless scheming and groveling required to secure roles while trailing her mother around sets.

He refrained from elaborating further; these truths weren’t meant for high school ears. Futazeno, oblivious to his musings, trailed silently behind him, clutching her bag of snacks. She longed to engage him in conversation—perhaps discuss favorite literary works or inquire about screenwriting—but lacked the confidence to initiate dialogue with someone she barely knew. Instead, she walked quietly, wrestling with questions about the cryptic exchange between Chihara and Nagano earlier.

Unfamiliar with Murakami Iori, Futazeno nonetheless sensed the gossip revolved around television production circles—and possibly involved Chihara himself. Yet their coded language left her baffled. Before she could muster the courage to ask, Chihara broke the silence with a lighthearted query. “Are you heading to Yamagami-san’s place for a study session?”

The quiet stroll felt awkward, especially since Futazeno’s strides were unusually slow despite her long legs. Unwilling to abandon her mid-walk, Chihara resorted to small talk. They had only half a block left; patience would suffice.

Caught off guard, Futazeno fumbled for a response. “No, we’re just gathering at Aiko’s house before spring break ends.”

“That sounds nice. Have fun!” Chihara smiled faintly. Youth, he mused, was fleeting. Close friendships, effortless camaraderie—these luxuries vanished once adulthood set in. Cherish them while they lasted.

His nostalgic tone embarrassed Futazeno. Eager to dispel any notion of frivolity, she clarified, “It’s not all fun—we’ll be studying too, though we don’t call it a ‘study session.’”

She didn’t want to appear childish in front of her idol. Besides, tonight’s plans included copying Nishino Sagiri’s spring break homework alongside Yamagami Aiko—an activity that technically qualified as studying. Chihara nodded approvingly. These three girls impressed him with their diligence. Their commitment to learning, evident since their first meeting, was commendable. Encouragingly, he added, “Good luck, then. Aim for excellent grades!”

Futazeno hesitated, guilt flickering across her face. “Yes, I’ll do my best!” After a pause, she debated asking about Chihara’s favorite author but was interrupted by another question. “By the way, do you enjoy ?”

Startled, Futazeno shook her head emphatically. “No, I don’t read those kinds of books.”

She prided herself on intellectual pursuits. Currently, she was tackling a dense nineteenth-century magical realism classic, The Final Journey of Bogwill. Though struggling to grasp its nuances, she persisted earnestly.

Chihara raised an eyebrow, surprised by her answer. Curious, he pressed further. “What about Yamagami-san and… the short-haired girl, Nishino-san? Do they read shoujo manga?”

Futazeno continued shaking her head. “Aiko doesn’t read anything—she’s clueless. Sagiri’s smart, but I’ve never seen her touch comics either.”

Doubt crept into Chihara’s mind. He’d pinned high hopes on adapting —an accessible project compared to others requiring seasoned actors. But now, he wondered: Was the shoujo manga market still underdeveloped among high school girls? Had he misjudged?

Quickly, he probed further. “What about your class? Are many students into shoujo manga? Is it popular at school?”

“In our class, not really,” Futazeno admitted candidly. “Right now, everyone’s obsessed with and .”

Her honesty struck a chord. Though unsure why Chihara cared, she answered dutifully. Their all-girls school buzzed with romantic aspirations despite the absence of boys, fueling fervent discussions about love.

Chihara grew pensive. Only ten years separated 1995 from 2005, yet the cultural gap seemed vast. Could the shoujo manga market still be nascent? It wasn’t impossible—after all, hemlines had risen dramatically during that decade, reflecting shifting attitudes. Perhaps fantasy tropes resonated less with modern teens.

Lost in thought, he chastised himself for growing complacent after ’s success. Confidence had dulled his caution. Meanwhile, Futazeno struggled to broach writing tips, growing increasingly flustered walking beside her idol.

Soon, they arrived at . Snapping out of his reverie, Chihara waved absently. “Take care, Futazeno-san.”

“Goodbye, Chihara-sensei,” she murmured, bowing slightly with her snack bag clutched tightly to her chest.

Chihara remained preoccupied, striding away without a backward glance. March 15th marked the start of Tokyo’s , and this year’s blooms were early. Standing amidst a cascade of white petals, Futazeno watched his retreating figure vanish into the distance. How she wished she’d mustered the courage to discuss scripts with him! Regret swelled in her chest—it was heartbreaking.

What a missed opportunity.

If you like this project, please rate or leave a review for this novel through the link below, thank you.

https://www.novelupdates.com/series/absolute-number-one/

Join our discord you will receive update notification

If you would like to support this translation, you may choose any one of the options below.

All the tiers provide an off-line reading experience

Tier 1: 10 Advance chapters

Access fee $3.00 Monthly