Chapter 230: Manga All Complete! Invitation From Kumamoto Prefecture Governor Masao Muto! Lunch After The Meeting!
The sunlight in Kumamoto filtered through the wooden lattice window of the Oyama family’s second-floor study, casting dappled shadows on the tatami mats. A faint scent of ink and paper hung in the air.
Hiroshi Nohara sat before the low table, his HB pencil finally falling after adding the last stroke – ninety manga chapters in total, 30 chapters each of *Yu Yu Hakusho*, *Doraemon*, and *Late-night Diner*, were finally complete.
He leaned back against the cushion and stretched, his joints making soft clicking sounds. Relaxation was evident in his eyes.
The manuscripts on the table were neatly stacked, three thick piles like small peaks. The storyboards on each page were precise and fluid, and the Japanese characters in the speech bubbles were as neat as if printed. Even the steam from the miso soup in *Late-night Diner* and the sugar frosting on the dorayaki in *Doraemon* were vividly depicted with light ink.
“Brother-in-law~”
Soft footsteps suddenly came from the doorway, carrying a hint of sneakiness.
Hiroshi Nohara looked up and saw Masae approaching with a celadon tea cup in her hands, tiptoeing in, her eyes frequently darting to the manuscripts on the table. Her intentions were too obvious to hide.
“Mom made this green tea for you. You’ve been drawing for so long, have some to rest,” Masae handed over the tea cup, her voice soft. Her fingertips, however, couldn’t help but brush against the top pile of *Doraemon* manuscripts, her eyes sparkling.
Hiroshi Nohara took the tea cup, his fingertips touching the warm ceramic. He couldn’t help but smile and deliberately swayed the cup, “Masae, this tea isn’t just to quench my thirst, is it? I feel like your eyes are glued to the manuscripts?”
“N-no way!” Masae’s cheeks instantly flushed. She quickly lowered her head, twisting the hem of her clothes, yet couldn’t help but murmur softly, “It’s just… it’s just that I think brother-in-law draws so well… and… and other readers have to wait for the magazine serialization. If I can read it early, wouldn’t that be great?”
“Oh? If other readers knew a little girl was peeking at the plot ahead of time, would they think it’s unfair?” Hiroshi Nohara took a sip of green tea, looking at Masae’s pouting lips, his tone full of teasing.
“No way!” Masae suddenly looked up, her eyes wide like a puffed-up little hamster. “I’m brother-in-law’s most loyal reader! Whether it’s Yusuke’s fighting in *Yu Yu Hakusho*, or Nobita and Doraemon’s adventures in *Doraemon*, or the owner’s tamagoyaki in *Late-night Diner*, I love them all! Last time, when my classmates were talking about manga at school, I said I knew the author of *Yu Yu Hakusho*, and they didn’t believe me, I even argued with them!”
As she spoke, she clenched her small fists with force, her serious demeanor making Hiroshi Nohara laugh out loud.
“What are you two chatting about, laughing so happily?”
Footsteps came from the doorway again, and Misae, wearing a light purple home outfit, walked in, carrying a small plate of strawberries.
She leaned against the doorframe, her eyes also glancing at the manuscripts on the table, a sly smile on her lips. “Masae isn’t peeking; she’s concerned about brother-in-law’s work, wanting to ‘supervise’ to see if he’s drawn anything wrong—besides, what’s wrong with liking manga? I want to read it early too.”
“Second sister, you want to read it too?” Masae’s eyes lit up, and she immediately tugged on Misae’s sleeve. “Look, brother-in-law is teasing me, please say something on my behalf!”
Hiroshi Nohara watched the sisters bickering and playfully shaking his head. He pushed the three stacks of manuscripts towards the center. “If you want to read it, go ahead, but you have to promise me one condition.”
“What condition? As long as I can read it, I’ll agree to anything!” Masae immediately leaned in, nodding her little head like a rattle drum.
“After you finish reading, you absolutely cannot tell anyone the plot,” Hiroshi Nohara’s tone became more serious, his fingertip gently tapping the manuscripts. “This is all content that hasn’t been serialized yet. If it’s leaked in advance, it’s not only unfair to other readers, but it’s also difficult to explain to Shueisha—you two must keep your mouths shut, understand?”
“We understand!” Misae and Masae replied in unison, their faces beaming with delight.
Masae even knelt directly on the tatami mat, reaching out to pick up the topmost *Doraemon* manuscript. Misae also leaned closer, the sisters put their heads together, and began flipping through the pages one by one.
“Wow! Nobita actually used the Anywhere Door to go to the South Pole! And he’s playing with penguins!” Masae’s voice was filled with amazement as she pointed at the penguins on the manuscript. “Sugoi! Doraemon’s thermal jacket is so cute!”
“Look at this *Late-night Diner*. The owner actually made Oyako-don for a customer, and the customer cried saying, ‘It tastes just like Mom’s’…” Misae’s voice softened as she gently brushed her fingertip over the Oyako-don on the manuscript. “Brother-in-law draws so gently; it makes me want to eat just by looking.”
“And this! Yusuke actually used a new Spirit Gun move!” Masae suddenly raised her voice, her eyes wide. “Brother-in-law is too good at drawing! I can even imagine the fight scene!”
Hiroshi Nohara sat nearby, drinking green tea, watching the sisters huddled together, completely immersed in the manga. The corners of his mouth curved upwards involuntarily.
The sunlight landed on their hair tips, gilding them with a light golden hue. Masae occasionally clapped her hands excitedly at the plot, while Misae would sigh softly at the delicacy of the illustrations—this feeling of having one’s work genuinely loved was more satisfying than any compliment.
His confidence and vanity quietly surfaced as he gently stroked the rim of his teacup with his fingertips.
Although most of these stories came from memories of his past life, being able to present them with his own brush and have people around him like them so much was, after all, something to be proud of.
He couldn’t help but think of the original authors from his past life—Yoshihiro Togashi of *Yu Yu Hakusho*, Fujiko F. Fujio of *Doraemon*, Keizo Muto of *Late-night Diner*… Without their creation of these wonderful stories, he wouldn’t have been able to convey so much warmth through manga in this world.
“I wonder if they can hear me saying thank you…” His tone was full of sincerity.
Mm, very sincere.
“Hiroshi! Hiroshi! Come down for a moment!”
However, just as Hiroshi Nohara was lost in thought, Takao Oyama’s voice suddenly came from downstairs, with a tone of urgency and joy. “Masae and Isshin are back! Isshin said he has something to tell you!”
Hiroshi Nohara put down his teacup and stood up. “I’ll go down and see. You two keep reading, just don’t mess up the manuscripts.”
“We know, brother-in-law!” Masae replied without looking up, still flipping through the *Doraemon* drafts. Misae just waved her hand, her eyes completely fixed on the drawing paper.
Hiroshi Nohara smiled and shook his head, turning to walk downstairs.
As soon as he reached the living room on the first floor, he saw Masae Oyama and Isshin Fujiwara sitting on the sofa. Masae was holding a cloth bag, likely brought back from school.
Isshin Fujiwara, on the other hand, was wearing a dark blue suit and holding a briefcase, looking like he had just gotten off work.
“Masae-san, Isshin-san, good afternoon,” Hiroshi Nohara walked over and bowed slightly. “Auntie just said you were looking for me?”
“Good afternoon, Hiroshi-san,” Isshin Fujiwara also stood up and bowed, his tone very polite. “Actually, there’s something I wanted to confirm with you. I happened to be bringing Masae-san back, so I came along.”
Masae added with a smile, “Isshin said he was afraid you might be busy drawing manga and wouldn’t see your pager, so he came directly—by the way, Hiroshi, are you done drawing your manga? I thought I heard Masae shouting ‘amazing’ when I went upstairs earlier.”
“Just finished, all ninety chapters are done,” Hiroshi Nohara sat down on the sofa next to them. “What is it that Isshin-san wants to see me about? Is there a problem with the Kumamon promotion?”
“No, no, the promotion is going very smoothly,” Isshin Fujiwara quickly waved his hands and took out a notebook from his briefcase. “Actually, I wanted to ask when you plan to return to Tokyo? There’s something at the Prefectural Office that might require your coordination, and I need to arrange my time in advance.”
Hiroshi Nohara thought for a moment and looked at his watch—it was Friday. He had originally planned to organize his manuscripts over the weekend and return to Tokyo on Monday. However, since Isshin was asking, it might be better to go back sooner to avoid delaying the television station’s work.
“I plan to fly back on Saturday evening, spend Sunday organizing my manuscripts, and then I can submit them to Shueisha on Monday, and also check on the production department at the television station.”
“Leaving on Saturday evening?” As soon as this was said, Yoshiharu Oyama, sitting beside him, was the first to react. He put down the newspaper he was reading, his tone full of emotion. “Time goes by so fast! You’ve only been in Kumamoto for two weeks, it feels like just yesterday we were simmering tonkotsu broth together, and now you’re leaving? Won’t you stay a few more days? Masae also said she wanted to take you to Mount Aso to see the scenery.”
“Yes, Hiroshi,” Takao Oyama came out of the kitchen with a fruit platter. Hearing this, the platter in her hand paused. “I was thinking of making your favorite horse meat sashimi on Sunday and inviting Masae and Isshin over for dinner to see you off—won’t you stay one more day?”
Masae also nodded, her eyes showing a hint of reluctance. “Yes, Hiroshi, you rarely come to Kumamoto, and there are so many places you haven’t been to. Kurokawa Onsen that I told you about last time, the open-air baths there are particularly comfortable. When you go in winter, you can see snow scenery. Although there’s no snow now, the cherry blossoms are in full bloom, it’s particularly beautiful.”
Isshin Fujiwara also chimed in with regret, “I was thinking of inviting you to an izakaya next to Kumamoto Castle next week to try their grilled mackerel, which is said to be very authentic. It’s a bit of a shame if you’re leaving on Saturday.”
Hiroshi Nohara looked at everyone’s attempts to keep him there and felt a warmth in his heart.
Yet, he still smiled helplessly. “I’d like to stay a few more days, but there are too many things waiting for me in Tokyo. For the manga, Shueisha is waiting for the serialization schedule, and the animation of *Doraemon* needs coordination with the association; for the television station, the script for the new arc of *World of the Strange* needs review, and the casting for the live-action *Late-night Diner* is at a critical stage, I really can’t get away.”
“That’s true, you’re much busier now than before,” Yoshiharu Oyama sighed, but immediately became proud. “But it’s no wonder, you’re a big shot at Tokyo TV now! I saw in the *Asahi Shimbun* last time that *Seven Samurai*, which you filmed, won an award at the Kyoto Film Festival, and Governor Koike personally went to congratulate you! And that *Super Change Change Change*, my relatives in Tokyo called last week and said everyone in Tokyo is watching this variety show now, even kindergarten kids can imitate the costume changes!”
“Exactly!” Takao Oyama leaned in, her tone full of pride. “Last time I went to the supermarket to buy things, the landlady told me, ‘Your son-in-law is the director who filmed *Late-night Diner*, right? I watch that manga every day, and I cry every time I watch it, it’s so heartwarming’—Hiroshi, you’re our Kumamoto’s pride now!”
Isshin Fujiwara also nodded, “When people at the Prefectural Office have meetings and mention cultural promotion, they say, ‘We should learn from Hiroshi Nohara-san’s approach.’ Governor Muto even said that the Kumamon you designed is more effective than the 300 million yen publicity campaign our Prefectural Office ran. Now all of Japan knows about Kumamoto.”
Hiroshi Nohara was a bit embarrassed by the praise and quickly changed the subject. “This is all the team’s credit, not just my own ability. By the way, Isshin-san, you said there was something at the Prefectural Office that needed coordination, what is it? If it’s related to Kumamon, I should be able to handle it before I leave.”
Isshin Fujiwara then remembered the main purpose and sat up straight, his tone becoming serious. “Actually, Governor Muto wants to meet with you and also invite you to lunch. He said that you are the biggest contributor to Kumamon’s current popularity and that he must thank you in person, and he also wants to discuss future IP development plans with you.”
“Governor Muto wants to see Hiroshi?” Yoshiharu Oyama’s eyes widened instantly, and the newspaper in his hand fell to the floor with a “slap.” “The governor who manages all of Kumamoto? He actually wants to personally meet Hiroshi and have lunch together?”
Takao Oyama almost dropped the fruit platter in her hand and quickly placed it on the table, her voice full of disbelief. “My goodness! Governor Muto is so busy usually; last time the Prefectural Office held an event, we had to book a month in advance just to invite him to cut the ribbon. Now he actually wants to meet Hiroshi in person? That’s amazing!”
Masae also covered her mouth, her eyes wide. “When I was doing part-time work at the Prefectural Office, I met Governor Muto once. He was very serious and spoke very formally to people. Now he wants to invite Hiroshi to dinner? That’s really surprising!”
Hiroshi Nohara was also taken aback.
He had originally thought that after Kumamon became popular, the Prefectural Office would at most send a Minister of Publicity to coordinate. He never expected the governor himself to want to meet.
However, on second thought, he could understand. Kumamon not only boosted the tourism industry but also made Kumamoto famous throughout Japan. As the head, Governor Muto would certainly want to thank him personally and solicit his cooperation.
“It is indeed about Kumamon.”
Isshin Fujiwara nodded, his tone very affirmative. “Governor Muto even said at a meeting yesterday that Kumamoto’s tourist numbers have increased by 40% compared to last year, and the income from hotels and specialty stores have doubled. All of this is thanks to you. He specifically instructed me to meet with you before you leave, even if it’s only for half an hour, to express his gratitude in person—if you don’t have time, he said he can adjust his schedule.”
“You definitely have to go!” Yoshiharu Oyama said immediately, picking up the newspaper from the floor, his tone very serious. “Governor Muto personally invited you; this is not an ordinary dinner, it’s related to your reputation! We can have our farewell dinner anytime, but you absolutely cannot refuse a meeting with the governor!”
“Yoshiharu is right,” Takao Oyama also agreed. “You are now a director at Tokyo TV and have connections with Governor Koike. Improving relations with Governor Muto will be beneficial in the future. Besides, he genuinely wants to thank you. Refusing would make us seem unappreciative.”
Masae also nodded. “Yes, Hiroshi, this is such a rare opportunity. Governor Muto rarely meets outsiders in person. Now that he’s actively seeking to meet you, it shows he values you highly. You must go.”
Hiroshi Nohara smiled as he heard everyone say this. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go. Being able to discuss IP development with Governor Muto will also be beneficial for Kumamon’s future development, and it can also help Misae’s Future Manga Company secure some cooperation opportunities. This is a good thing.”
“That’s wonderful!”
Isshin Fujiwara immediately smiled and took out his phone. “I’ll call Governor Muto’s secretary right now to confirm the time and place for lunch tomorrow. How about 12 PM tomorrow? The location will be the ‘Sakura Village’ izakaya next to Kumamoto Castle; the environment is quiet, and the food is very local.”
“No problem, I’m free tomorrow noon,” Hiroshi Nohara nodded. “I’ll organize my manuscripts in the morning, meet the governor at noon, pack my luggage in the afternoon, and then I can take the plane back to Tokyo in the evening.”
“Then I’ll contact the secretary now.” Isshin Fujiwara stood up with his phone and walked to the window to make a call, his tone very respectful. “Hello, is this Secretary Kobayashi? This is Isshin Fujiwara… Yes, Hiroshi Nohara-san has agreed to meet tomorrow at noon… Is 12 PM at ‘Sakura Village’ okay?… Yes, yes, I will notify the izakaya in advance… Please convey my thanks to the governor…”
Yoshiharu Oyama watched Isshin make the call, then looked at Hiroshi Nohara, and couldn’t help but sigh. “Hiroshi, you’re really different now. When you first went to Tokyo, I was worried you’d be bullied there alone. Now, look, even the governor of Kumamoto wants to invite you to dinner and discuss cooperation with you. You’ve truly succeeded.”
“It’s all good luck and seizing good opportunities,” Hiroshi Nohara smiled and picked up a strawberry, putting it in his mouth.
Sweet, just like his current mood.
Sunlight streamed through the living room window, falling on everyone. Isshin Fujiwara hung up the phone, walked over with a smile, and said, “The secretary said Governor Muto is very happy and wants to arrive at the izakaya half an hour early to have a good chat with you about IP development.”
“That’s great!” Takao Oyama immediately clapped her hands. “Then I’ll wake up early tomorrow morning and make you a bento box to eat on the way—and I’ll pack some strawberry daifuku for you to eat on the plane.”
Masae, who had come downstairs at some point, was holding the *Doraemon* manuscripts. Hearing this, she immediately chimed in, “Mom! I want to help brother-in-law Hiroshi make a bento too! I can make onigiri, and I’ll draw Doraemon on the onigiri!”
Everyone looked at Masae’s earnest expression and couldn’t help but laugh. The laughter in the living room, the sound of cherry blossoms outside the window, and the sound of Isshin Fujiwara’s pen recording his itinerary intertwined, creating the warmest scene of a Kumamoto afternoon.
Hiroshi Nohara looked at everything before him and suddenly felt very content. Transmigrating to this world, meeting such wonderful family, creating works that people love, and doing something practical for Kumamoto, perhaps this was his greatest fortune.
“Oh, right, brother-in-law!” Masae suddenly remembered something and raised the manuscript in her hand. “When I was reading *Doraemon* just now, I saw Nobita using the Bamboo Copter to take Shizuka to see the cherry blossoms; it was so beautiful! If the animation is made, can we have a premiere ceremony under the cherry blossom trees in Kumamoto? And have Kumamon come too, it would surely be very lively!”
“That’s a great idea!” Hiroshi Nohara nodded with a smile. “Once the animation is done, we’ll discuss with the Prefectural Office about holding a premiere ceremony in the cherry blossom park next to Kumamoto Castle, so everyone can come to see Nobita and Doraemon’s adventures.”
“Yay! That’s wonderful!” Masae jumped up excitedly, holding her manuscript and running upstairs. “I’m going to tell my friends at the school manga club right now, so they can look forward to it too!”
Watching Masae’s retreating figure as she ran upstairs, everyone couldn’t help but laugh.
The sunlight grew warmer, falling on the fruit platter on the table, making the strawberries and grapes shimmer with sweetness.
Hiroshi Nohara knew that the meeting with Governor Muto tomorrow would be the perfect finale before he left Kumamoto, and after returning to Tokyo, many more things awaited him, and more stories to create.
This, perhaps, was life.
There were warm farewells, an anticipated future, and a group of people around him who were genuinely happy for him.
…
Saturday morning light streamed through the wooden lattice window of the Oyama family’s living room, diagonally illuminating the low table. The neatly arranged breakfast looked particularly down-to-earth—white rice steamed invitingly, accompanied by light brown Japanese pickles, a golden fried egg with slightly crispy edges, sausages cut into flower shapes, and a plate of stir-fried komatsuna, its vibrant green looking appetizing.
Hiroshi Nohara was dressed in a dark gray formal suit, his tie impeccably tied—he had specifically taken it out of his suitcase yesterday.
Meeting the Prefectural Governor was a formal occasion, so he couldn’t be too casual.
He sat down at the low table, picked up his chopsticks, and took a bite of the komatsuna. Its crisp texture carried a faint soy sauce aroma, and he couldn’t help but nod. “Aunt’s cooking is still as good as ever. This stir-fried komatsuna is even better than what they serve at izakayas in Tokyo.”
“Eat more if you like it,” Takao Oyama came over with a bowl of miso soup and placed it in front of him, smiling. “I specifically added more tofu for you; you need to eat more to have energy for meeting the governor today.”
Hiroshi Nohara took the soup bowl and took a sip.
The salty flavor of miso mixed with the soft tofu, warming him as it slid down his throat, making him sigh contentedly. “It’s really warm; much more comfortable than drinking coffee in the morning.”
“Hiroshi,” Yoshiharu Oyama, sitting opposite him, put down his chopsticks, his expression suddenly turning serious. He tapped the table lightly with his fingers. “When you meet Governor Muto later, absolutely do not be rude. Governor Muto is the ‘parental official’ of Kumamoto; it’s hard to get an audience with him. You need to speak politely and not like you’re talking to family—if you don’t know what to say, listen more and speak less, understand?”
“I understand, Uncle,” Hiroshi Nohara smiled and nodded. Just as he was about to say something else, Masae next to him chuckled.
The young girl, wearing a pink home outfit and still chewing rice, mumbled indistinctly, “Dad, you’re too nervous! Brother-in-law Hiroshi has met so many important officials in Tokyo. Last time, I heard from second sister that brother-in-law even attended a cultural festival with Governor Koike of Tokyo Metropolis. Although Governor Muto is powerful, it’s not like brother-in-law has never met important people before, so how could he be rude?”
She put down her chopsticks and deliberately pouted. “It’s only you, Dad, who’s pulling out the demeanor of a middle school dean of students, as if you’re meeting the principal, not the Prefectural Governor.”
“You little rascal!”
Yoshiharu Oyama’s face instantly turned red. He put down his chopsticks, ready to slam the table. “What do you mean by the demeanor of a dean of students? What’s wrong with being a middle school dean of students? That’s an important position for nurturing the nation’s future! Governor Muto is the Prefectural Governor; he’s in charge of the lives of millions of people in Kumamoto. How can he be compared to ordinary important figures? You child, you speak without any sense of propriety!”
“Alright, alright, Yoshiharu, why are you arguing with a child?” Takao Oyama quickly held his hand and said helplessly, “Masae is still young and doesn’t understand these things. Don’t be angry with her. Besides, Hiroshi knows what he’s doing; he’s always steady and won’t make any mistakes.”
Masae stuck out her tongue and tucked her neck in, not daring to speak further.
At this moment, Masae and Misae also came downstairs. Hearing this, Masae couldn’t help but smile and say, “Dad, what Masae said isn’t wrong. Hiroshi often interacts with high-ranking officials in Tokyo. Last time, when *Seven Samurai* won an award, he even discussed the creation process with officials from the Ministry of Education. He definitely knows how to interact with the governor.”
Misae also nodded, sat next to Hiroshi Nohara, and handed him a tissue. “That’s right, Uncle. Hiroshi-kun is calm even when reporting work to Station Manager Sakata. He’ll definitely be fine meeting the governor—don’t worry, just eat your breakfast, or your food will get cold.”
Yoshiharu Oyama still wanted to say something, but seeing everyone speaking in support of Hiroshi Nohara and looking at his almost-cold rice, he could only mutter, “Anyway, the dean of students is also very important… Cultivating students’ etiquette is crucial…”
As soon as he said this, even Hiroshi Nohara, who had been silent, couldn’t help but smile. He picked up a piece of sausage and offered it to Yoshiharu. “Uncle is right, etiquette is indeed important, and it should be observed no matter who you meet. But don’t worry, I’ll be mindful of my behavior later and won’t bring shame to the Oyama family.”
Yoshiharu Oyama took the sausage, his expression softening slightly. He huffed, “That’s more like it.”
Breakfast ended in such a lively atmosphere. Hiroshi Nohara put down his chopsticks, wiped his mouth, and stood up. “Uncle, Aunt, Masae-san, Misae, Masae, I should go now; I don’t want to keep the governor waiting.”
“Wait, here are the car keys,” Yoshiharu Oyama took out a set of silver keys from his pocket and handed them to Hiroshi Nohara. “I just filled up the old Toyota yesterday. Drive that one; parking at the Prefectural Office is difficult. When you arrive, call Isshin on your pager, and he’ll come out to pick you up.”
“Thank you, Uncle,” Hiroshi Nohara took the keys, said goodbye to everyone again, and then turned to leave.
The engine of the old Toyota roared to life on the quiet street. Hiroshi Nohara held the steering wheel, watching the cherry blossom trees blur past his window. Pink petals occasionally drifted onto the car window, falling off with a gentle touch.
The streets of Kumamoto were much quieter than Tokyo, without so many tall buildings or hurried office workers. Even the convenience stores along the road exuded a leisurely vibe.
About twenty minutes later, the Kumamoto Prefectural Office building appeared in view.
The off-white building was solemn and dignified. Two man-high Kumamon dolls were placed next to the stone lions at the entrance, causing passersby to stop and take photos.
Hiroshi Nohara found a parking spot, parked the car, took out his mobile phone, and called Isshin Fujiwara. “Hello, Isshin-san, I’ve arrived at the entrance of the Prefectural Office.”
“Okay, Hiroshi-san, I’ll come out to pick you up right away!” Isshin Fujiwara’s voice on the other end was hurried, as if he was walking quickly.
Less than two minutes after hanging up, Hiroshi Nohara saw Isshin Fujiwara and a middle-aged man in a dark blue suit walk out quickly.
The man was about fifty years old, his hair neatly combed, and he had a calm smile on his face. It was Ichiro Yamada, the Minister of Publicity for Kumamoto Prefecture, whom Hiroshi had met before.
“Hiroshi-san, I apologize for making you wait,” Isshin Fujiwara said with a smile as he hurried over. “I was just confirming the governor’s schedule with Minister Yamada, which caused a slight delay.”
Ichiro Yamada also extended his hand and shook Hiroshi Nohara’s. His grip was firm, and his smile was sincere. “Hiroshi-san, it’s good to see you again. We parted in a hurry at Sakura Village last time, and I didn’t get a chance to properly chat with you about Kumamon—I never expected Kumamon to become so popular throughout Japan in such a short time. It’s all thanks to you.”
“Minister Yamada is too kind,” Hiroshi Nohara smiled and shook his head. “Kumamon’s popularity is also the result of joint efforts by the Prefectural Office and the television station. I just provided an idea.”
“Ideas are the most crucial,”
Ichiro Yamada sighed, his tone full of emotion. “Previously, the Prefectural Office spent 300 million yen on publicity campaigns, but hardly anyone remembered them. A small bear you designed has made the whole of Japan know Kumamoto in just a few months—last week, the number of tourists at Kumamoto Airport increased by 30% compared to the same period last year. Many people came specifically for Kumamon, and even the airport shops have dedicated Kumamon merchandise sections that sell out daily.”
Isshin Fujiwara also added, “Yes, Hiroshi-san, yesterday I went to the supermarket next to the Prefectural Office and saw Kumamon printed on the packaging of horse meat sashimi. The owner said sales have more than doubled compared to before—now the businesses in Kumamoto are almost treating Kumamon as their mascot.”
The three of them walked into the Prefectural Office while chatting.
The corridors of the Prefectural Office were covered with dark brown carpets, muffling their footsteps. The walls were adorned with scenic photos of various places in Kumamoto, one of which depicted Kumamon bowing in front of Kumamoto Castle, with a charmingly naive smile.
Upon reaching the second floor, a young man in a light gray suit quickly approached them.
He appeared to be around thirty years old, holding a notebook. He stopped upon seeing the three of them and bowed. “Minister Yamada, Fujiwara-san, you must be Hiroshi Nohara-san? I am Kobayashi, Secretary to Governor Muto. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“Secretary Kobayashi is too polite,” Hiroshi Nohara also bowed in return. “Thank you for coming to pick me up.”
“It’s my duty,” Kobayashi straightened up, a look of apology on his face. “I’m truly sorry, Governor Muto has a last-minute meeting this morning regarding the development of guesthouses around Mount Aso, which will likely take about an hour to conclude. I have arranged for a reception room nearby where you can rest and have some tea—if Minister Yamada and Fujiwara-san are not busy, you can wait together.”
“It’s alright, it’s only right for the Governor to be busy,” Hiroshi Nohara said with a smile. “We don’t mind waiting; there’s no need to go to any special trouble.”
“It’s good that Hiroshi-san is understanding,”
Ichiro Yamada patted his shoulder and said with a smile, “Ever since Kumamon became popular, Governor Muto hasn’t had a good rest. He has to work overtime on weekends to meet with people from various departments—yesterday I told him to get some rest, and he said, ‘This is a good opportunity for Kumamoto’s development; we can’t be lazy.’ He’s truly a dedicated person.”
Kobayashi also nodded, his tone full of admiration. “The Governor indeed attaches great importance to Kumamoto’s development, especially the opportunities brought by Kumamon. He even told me yesterday that he must properly thank Hiroshi-san, saying that you are Kumamoto’s ‘benefactor.’ Without the Kumamon you designed, our Kumamoto wouldn’t have the current popularity.”
“Secretary Kobayashi is too exaggerated,” Hiroshi Nohara quickly waved his hands. “I just did what I should have done. The main credit goes to the Prefectural Office’s good policies for seizing the opportunity to promote Kumamoto.”
As the four of them spoke, they arrived at the reception room door.
Kobayashi opened the door. The room was simply furnished—a dark sofa, a low table, and a sumi-e painting of Kumamoto Castle on the wall. A small Kumamon plush toy was placed on the table.
“Please come in,” Kobayashi stepped aside, allowing them to enter. “I’ll go make you some tea; please have a seat first.”
“Thank you for your trouble,” Hiroshi Nohara said gratefully, then followed Ichiro Yamada and Isshin Fujiwara to sit on the sofa.
“Hiroshi-san, how do you think Kumamon’s IP should be developed moving forward?” Ichiro Yamada asked immediately after sitting down, shifting to work topics. “The Prefectural Office wants to create a Kumamon themed tourist route, starting from Kumamoto Castle, passing through Mount Aso, and then to Kurokawa Onsen, allowing tourists to follow Kumamon’s footsteps to play all over Kumamoto—what do you think of this idea?”
Hiroshi Nohara thought for a moment and nodded. “This idea is very good; it not only promotes Kumamoto’s attractions but also makes Kumamon’s image more dimensional. However, we could add some interactive elements, for example, setting up a ‘Kumamon Check-in Point’ at each scenic spot. Tourists who check in can exchange for a small souvenir, which would increase tourist engagement.”
“That’s a great idea!” Isshin Fujiwara’s eyes lit up, and he immediately [Truncated: Max tokens]
“Yes, we can also have Kumamon make short promotional videos at each attraction.”
Hiroshi Nohara added, “For example, at Kumamoto Castle, have Kumamon learn to bow like a samurai; at Mount Aso, have it hold a small flag to remind tourists to be careful; at Kurokawa Onsen, have it peek its head out while soaking in the hot springs—short films like these, shown on television and at tourist spots, would surely attract more people.”
Yamada Ichiro listened and nodded repeatedly, saying with a smile, “Hiroshi-san’s ideas are truly different, always thinking of the details. I’ll report back to the Governor. If it can be implemented, our Kumamoto’s tourism industry will definitely reach new heights.”
When Kobayashi came in with tea, he happened to overhear their conversation and said with a smile, “If this tourism route can be developed, the Governor will surely be very happy. He had previously said that he wanted Kumamon to become Kumamoto’s ‘cultural calling card’, not just popular in Japan, but also promoted overseas—for example, cooperating with travel agencies in Southeast Asia to have Kumamon’s image appear on their brochures.”
“Overseas promotion is also a good direction,” Hiroshi Nohara took a sip of his tea, which had a faint matcha flavor. “However, we can start with neighboring countries first. These places are close to Japan, and tourists like cute images. We’ll open up the market there first, and then gradually promote to further places.”
The four of them chatted like this, from the IP development of Kumamon, to the cultural promotion of Kumamoto, and then to future development plans; time passed quickly.
About an hour later, Kobayashi’s pager suddenly rang. He glanced at it, immediately stood up, and said, “The Governor’s meeting has ended, and he is waiting for you in his office now. Let’s go.”
Hiroshi Nohara and the other two quickly stood up and followed Kobayashi towards the Governor’s office.
There weren’t many people in the corridor. Occasionally, staff members in uniform could be seen hurrying by. They would bow respectfully when they saw them—clearly, Secretary Kobayashi was escorting guests, and everyone knew they were going to see the Governor.
Reaching the office doorway, Kobayashi knocked on the door. A deep, steady male voice came from inside, “Come in.”
Kobayashi opened the door and stepped aside to let them in. The office was simply furnished, with a large desk, a bookshelf, and a huge map of Kumamoto hanging on the wall, with project locations marked in red pen.
A middle-aged man in a dark gray suit sat behind the desk. His hair was streaked with white, but his eyes were sharp—it was Masao Muto, the Governor of Kumamoto Prefecture.
“Governor Muto, hello.” Hiroshi Nohara and the other two bowed in unison.
“Please, sit down, sit down.” Masao Muto stood up, walked over with a smile, and patted Hiroshi Nohara’s shoulder. “Mr. Nohara, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve wanted to have a good chat with you for a long time, but I’ve never had the time. I apologize.”
“You are too kind, Governor. It is I who should thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to see me.” Hiroshi Nohara returned the bow, his tone respectful but not subservient.
After the four of them sat down, Masao Muto looked at Hiroshi Nohara and said with emotion, “Mr. Nohara, you are truly young and promising. I saw your resume; you are only in your early twenties, yet you are already a third-class director at Tokyo TV, have your own production department, and your manga is popular all over Japan—and now you’ve designed Kumamon, helping Kumamoto gain recognition. It’s truly remarkable.”
“You flatter me, Governor. I’ve just been lucky to encounter good opportunities,” Hiroshi Nohara said modestly. “Works like Late-night Diner and World of the Strange are the result of the team’s collective effort; Kumamon’s success is also because Kumamoto has a good foundation that allows this character to be accepted by everyone.”
“Luck is also part of strength.”
Masao Muto shook his head and said earnestly, “I watched Kumamon’s promotional short film and your IP development suggestions for the Prefectural Office, and I could feel that you know how to capture people’s hearts. For example, Kumamon’s wobbly walk makes it look clumsy, yet it feels endearing; and in the short film, the scenes where it helps an old woman carry her shopping bag and gives candy to elementary school students are very warm—this kind of ‘down-to-earth’ image is more memorable than lofty mascots.”
He paused, picked up a report from his desk, and handed it to Hiroshi Nohara. “Look, these are last month’s statistics. Our Kumamoto’s tourism revenue has increased by 50% compared to the same period last year, specialty sales have risen by 45%, and even employment rates have improved by 2%—all of these are ripple effects of Kumamon. Before, when I attended a meeting in the Hokkaido Region, governors from other prefectures all asked me, ‘How did Kumamon become so popular?’ I told them it’s because we have a great creator, and they were all envious.”
“I am also very happy to be able to contribute to Kumamoto.” Hiroshi Nohara took the report and glanced at it—the data was indeed impressive, especially the occupancy rate of guesthouses around Mount Aso, which had risen from 60% to 90%. It was evident that Kumamon’s impact was significant.
“Mr. Nohara, what are your plans next?” Masao Muto looked at him, his tone full of expectation. “The Prefectural Office would like to establish a long-term cooperation with you, such as appointing you as Kumamoto’s ‘Cultural Consultant’ to help us oversee Kumamon’s IP development and Kumamoto’s cultural promotion. Of course, regarding compensation, you can rest assured that the Prefectural Office will provide you with appropriate remuneration; you won’t be helping for free.”
Hiroshi Nohara thought for a moment and nodded. “Thank you for your trust, Governor. I am happy to serve as Kumamoto’s Cultural Consultant. However, I have work in Tokyo, so I may not be able to come to Kumamoto frequently. But I will do my best to make time to coordinate with the Prefectural Office and communicate any ideas promptly. Additionally, I would like to recommend Future Manga Company for Kumamon’s IP development. Their manga artists are very talented; they previously helped me color Late-night Diner with excellent attention to detail. Involving them will also provide opportunities for Kumamoto’s youth.”
“Future Manga Company? Is that Ms. Misae’s manga company?” Masao Muto’s eyes lit up. “I know this manga company. I heard Mr. Yamada mention it before; they are all young people and very energetic. Involving them is perfect. It will support local young people and ensure the quality of IP development—killing two birds with one stone.”
Ichiro Yamada also smiled and added, “Yes, Governor. I spoke with Hiroshi-kun before, and he has many ideas for Kumamon’s IP. He even mentioned wanting to draw a series of Kumamon manga telling Kumamoto’s historical stories. If this can be realized, it will not only promote Kumamoto’s culture but also give Kumamon’s image more depth.”
“Alright, then it’s settled.” Masao Muto clapped his hands, his tone very decisive. “Kobayashi, please contact Ms. Misae later to arrange a time to meet with the Prefectural Office’s Public Relations Department. Also, prepare Mr. Nohara’s letter of appointment as Cultural Consultant and send it to Tokyo next week so as not to cause any delays.”
“Yes!” Kobayashi quickly agreed and took out his notebook to record it.
Masao Muto continued to chat with Hiroshi Nohara about many things, from Kumamoto’s agricultural development and cultural industry planning to future economic goals. Hiroshi Nohara also occasionally offered his suggestions, such as combining Kumamoto’s agricultural products with Kumamon’s IP to create “Kumamon Limited Edition” strawberries and oranges, which would increase the added value of agricultural products and promote Kumamoto’s specialties.
Unknowingly, they had been chatting for nearly two hours.
“Mmm…”
At this point, Masao Muto noticed a reminder from his secretary, Kobayashi, beside him and realized that it was already noon.
He then smiled and invited, “It’s rare to have such a thorough chat with Hiroshi-kun. You shouldn’t go back for lunch. I intend to ask your advice further at the wine table too!”
