Kazunari Ninomiya (二宮和也) surprised fans on November 3, 2026, by revealing on X that he had quietly reunited with former Arashi bandmates Satoshi Ohno (大野智) and Jun Matsumoto (松本潤) for what he called a “real Arashi gathering” (ガチ嵐会). The announcement landed on the exact anniversary of Arashi’s 1999 debut, just months after the group wrapped up 26 and a half years of activity.
Ninomiya posted a photo of the three members raising glasses together, captioning it “Gachi Arashi-kai hatsudo. (Chonan, masshi, masshi)” — a playful reference using nicknames the members have long used for each other within the group. The post drew more than 550,000 likes by 3 p.m. on November 4, according to J-CAST News.
Jun Matsumoto followed up the same day with his own Instagram post, sharing a photo of the same toast taken from a different angle. He added only a rainbow emoji and the caption “60% Ichiro, Shiro, Goro,” echoing the same kind of in-group nickname shorthand.
The posts set off a wave of emotional reactions on social media, with fans writing comments such as “the best report I could ever hear,” “I can’t believe this day finally came,” “thank you for telling us,” and “a gachi Arashi-kai on the anniversary is so moving.”
Who is Arashi?
Arashi is one of Japan’s most successful boy bands, formed under Johnny & Associates and known for its five members, including Satoshi Ohno, Kazunari Ninomiya, and Jun Matsumoto. The group debuted on November 3, 1999, and built a massive following over more than two decades of music, television, and variety work before concluding its activities in 2026 after roughly 26 and a half years together. Ninomiya has remained active in acting and media appearances, while Matsumoto and Ohno have likewise continued pursuing individual projects since the group’s run ended.
Author’s Comment
Honey, I did not expect to be emotionally wrecked by a champagne glass photo on a Tuesday, but here we are. A ‘gachi Arashi-kai’ on the exact debut anniversary is the kind of fan service you can’t manufacture with a press release — it only works because it’s real. Japanese idol culture runs on these tiny, coded gestures: a nickname only insiders get, a caption that says everything by saying almost nothing. Half a million likes in less than a day tells you everyone instinctively understood the subtext even without a translation. I’ll take this over a scripted reunion special any day.
