Chapter 231: International Perspective! Shocked Governor Muto! The Oyama Family’s Farewell Banquet!
When the wooden door of Sakura Village Izakaya was pushed open, the three o’clock afternoon sun slanted onto the cherry blossom tree by the entrance, and pinkish-white petals fluttered down onto the bluestone path, carrying a touch of the afternoon’s warmth.
As Hiroshi Nohara took a step, his wrist was gently grasped by a warm hand—it was Masao Muto.
This governor of Kumamoto Prefecture was now wearing just a plain beige linen shirt, no tie, his collar loosely open, exuding less of his usual office solemnity and more approachable warmth common in everyday life.
He held Hiroshi Nohara’s hand, his fingertips calloused from years of holding a pen, and spoke with evident emotion: “Hiroshi-san, these two hours of conversation with you today have been more effective than a full day of prefectural office meetings. I’d always felt Kumamoto’s development was stuck on ‘lack of fame,’ and no matter how hard I thought, I couldn’t figure out how to promote our specialty products and attractions. Then you, with Kumamon and a ‘brand IP + tourism’ strategy, directly opened up the path. Impressive, truly impressive.”
Hiroshi Nohara’s tone remained calm, with appropriate humility: “Governor, you flatter me too much.”
He added with a light laugh:
“I just came up with a few small ideas based on Kumamoto’s existing strengths—you see, Kumamoto has the magnificent Mount Aso, the relaxing Kurokawa Onsen, and delicious food like horse meat sashimi and strawberry daifuku; we already have a solid foundation to attract people.”
“I simply connected these good things using the widely loved Kumamon character. For the actual implementation, we still rely on everyone at the prefectural office to run around, for example, with the tourism routes we promoted earlier, if the publicity department hadn’t coordinated with attractions and inns, it wouldn’t have worked.”
They had been talking for a long time about Kumamoto Prefecture’s future development, and Hiroshi Nohara spoke freely.
“You can’t say that.”
Masao Muto released his hand, shook his head with a smile, and pointed to Ichiro Yamada beside him, “Ask Yamada, the prefectural office spent 300 million yen on promotional advertisements broadcast for three months, and no one outside of Kumamoto knew about it. Yet, your Kumamon short film was aired on Tokyo TV only twice, and tourist visits to Kumamoto increased by 30% over the weekend. That’s not something ‘small ideas’ can achieve.”
Yamada Ichiro, standing beside them, immediately nodded. The shock on his face hadn’t completely faded. He instinctively adjusted his glasses and spoke with a hint of disbelief: “The Governor is right. Hiroshi-san, you mentioned earlier that ‘Southeast Asian tourists are more receptive to regional IP than we thought, and we can collaborate with travel agencies in Thailand and Malaysia to make Kumamon an international tourism symbol.’ I truly never considered that. I was only thinking about domestic promotion within Japan and never dared to think internationally. Also, you said, ‘The problem in Japanese society now isn’t a lack of opportunities, but that regions haven’t fully leveraged their unique characteristics. Young people flock to Tokyo because regions haven’t shown them hope.’ That’s so accurate. My neighbor’s son, who studied design in Tokyo, decisively stayed there after graduation, saying, ‘You can’t find companies in Kumamoto that do IP design, so you can only join small and medium-sized enterprises to draw posters.’ Isn’t that exactly the problem you mentioned!”
Isshin Fujiwara also nodded, still clutching the small notebook where he had been taking notes, the pages densely filled.
He usually handled administrative work at the prefectural office and viewed issues primarily from a policy perspective. Today, listening to Hiroshi Nohara discuss the economy and industry, he realized his own perspective had been too narrow: “Hiroshi-san, you said, ‘The real estate boom is like a bubble; it looks lively, but it bursts with a single poke. Only industries that can retain people are fundamental.’ I completely agree. My colleague’s younger brother took out a 50 million yen loan last year to buy a secondhand apartment in Tokyo. Now he has to repay 200,000 yen a month, a large part of his salary goes into it, and he doesn’t even have money for dating. He complains to me daily, ‘I wish I had stayed in Kumamoto and found a job there; at least I wouldn’t have to pay a mortgage living at home.’ Developing the tertiary industry as you suggested, ensuring young people have jobs and can establish themselves in Kumamoto, that’s truly beneficial for Kumamoto.”
Hiroshi Nohara smiled, saying no more. He knew these words might be somewhat ahead of their time in Japan, but having experienced an economic crisis in his past life, he was acutely aware of the dangers of a real estate bubble.
Kumamoto hadn’t been too deeply affected by the bubble yet. It was better to seize this opportunity to develop long-term industries like tourism and culture, rather than trying to fix things after the bubble burst.
“It’s getting late. I need to go back to the Oyama family home to pack my luggage, and I have a flight back to Tokyo tonight.” Hiroshi Nohara glanced at his watch; the hands already pointed to 3:15 PM. “Governor, Minister Yamada, Isshin-san, thank you for your hospitality today, especially Governor Muto, for taking so much of your time.”
“Don’t mention it!”
Masao Muto patted his shoulder, his tone very enthusiastic, “From now on, Kumamoto is half your home. Come back and visit often. Kobayashi has already taken your contact information. If we have any new ideas here in Kumamoto, such as overseas promotion for Kumamon, I’ll have him send you a pager message immediately, and we’ll need your advice then.”
“Certainly.” Hiroshi Nohara bowed respectfully. “Then, I shall take my leave.”
“I’ll escort you to the door.” Masao Muto accompanied him to where his car was parked, watched Hiroshi Nohara open the door of his old Toyota, and added, “If you need any help from Kumamoto after returning to Tokyo, don’t hesitate to ask me directly. For example, if your Future Manga Company needs materials from Kumamoto, the prefectural office can help you connect with local photographers and provide photos free of charge.”
“Thank you, Governor.” Hiroshi Nohara got into the car and waved goodbye. “Goodbye, everyone.”
Masao Muto, Yamada Ichiro, and Isshin Fujiwara stood by the roadside, watching the old Toyota’s engine start and slowly merge into the street traffic. Only after the car disappeared behind the cherry blossom trees did they turn and walk towards the black Toyota commercial vehicle parked next to Sakura Village.
The interior of the commercial vehicle was very tidy, with dark brown leather seats. A small Kumamon figurine was placed on the center console, a gift from a tourist previously.
Masao Muto sat in the back seat, leaned against the backrest, and let out a long sigh, still with the excitement from their conversation: “Yamada, you heard Hiroshi-san just now say, ‘It’s better to focus on people than on real estate.’ That’s absolutely true. Young people are flocking to Tokyo now, not because Kumamoto isn’t good, but because we haven’t given them a reason to stay. If we can develop the tertiary industry, like doing IP development around Kumamon, opening design companies and merchandise factories, and improving tourism routes to provide young people with good jobs in Kumamoto, who would want to squeeze into the Tokyo subway and pay high mortgages?”
Yamada Ichiro, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around and offered Masao Muto a cigarette. He lit one himself, and smoke slowly dispersed in the car: “You’re absolutely right. Last time I went to Osaka for a meeting, I spoke with the Director of Publicity for Osaka Prefecture. He said Osaka is facing the same problem; young people are all heading to Tokyo, and Osaka’s small and medium-sized enterprises can’t find staff. He also said, ‘If only Osaka had a symbol like Kumamon.’ At the time, I felt quite proud, but now, after hearing Hiroshi-san, I realize we still have a lot to do.”
He took a puff of his cigarette, his tone becoming somewhat somber: “As Hiroshi-san said, Japan’s current real estate fever is a bubble. I have a friend who bought an apartment in Minato Ward, Tokyo, for 30 million yen three years ago. It’s now worth 50 million, and he brags to me daily about ‘asset appreciation.’ But his son, while looking for a job in Tokyo, interviewed at over ten companies, but either the salary was low or they didn’t offer formal contracts. In the end, he had to return to Kumamoto and work as a clerk at a small supermarket. You tell me, what’s the use of real estate prices skyrocketing if young people have no jobs?”
Isshin Fujiwara, sitting next to Masao Muto, still held the notebook. He flipped to the page he had written about “Real Estate and the Tertiary Industry” and said softly, “Hiroshi-san also said, ‘Local governments shouldn’t follow Tokyo’s real estate fever; they must preserve their unique characteristics.’ Kumamoto’s characteristics are its natural scenery and traditional culture. If we follow Tokyo’s example of building high-rises and speculating on housing prices, not only will we fail to retain young people, but we’ll also lose our unique identity. The prefectural office previously wanted to build an office building next to Kumamoto Castle, but fortunately, it didn’t go through. If it had been built, it would have definitely affected the tourist experience.”
Masao Muto took the cigarette, brought it to his lips, but didn’t light it. He looked at the passing streetscape of Kumamoto outside the window. At the entrance of a convenience store by the roadside, a Kumamon doll was displayed, and a few elementary school students were taking pictures around it, smiling happily.
He suddenly sighed: “You’re both right. The central real estate faction had advised me, ‘Kumamoto should also build some luxury apartments to attract wealthy people from Tokyo to invest.’ Now that I think about it, it’s fortunate I didn’t listen to them. Even if those wealthy people invest, they’ll just buy the apartments and leave them vacant; they won’t truly come to live in Kumamoto. Instead, they’ll drive up local housing prices, making it even harder for young people in Kumamoto to afford homes.”
He lit the cigarette and took a puff, his expression becoming serious: “By the way, Yamada, Hiroshi-san is part of Governor Koike’s faction, right? His approach to things seems very similar to Governor Koike’s. Neither advocates for real estate speculation; both emphasize physical industries like culture and tourism.”
Yamada Ichiro paused for a moment, then nodded: “You’re right. Hiroshi-san, Governor Koike, and President Shimazu of Tokyo Television are all core members of the ‘Big Tokyo TV Faction.’ This faction advocates for ‘suppressing real estate overheating and developing physical and cultural industries.’ Previously, Governor Koike presented a report at the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly, stating, ‘Real estate cannot feed people. Ensuring citizens have stable jobs, affordable housing, and a sense of happiness in their lives is what the government should be doing.’ What he said is almost identical to what Hiroshi-san said today.”
“No wonder.”
Masao Muto nodded thoughtfully, tapping his knee with his fingers: “The struggle between these two factions within the Liberal Democratic Party is becoming increasingly fierce. At the last central meeting, a member of the real estate faction said, ‘The rise in Tokyo’s housing prices is proof of economic prosperity, and Tokyo’s model should be promoted nationwide.’ Governor Koike immediately retorted, saying, ‘How many young people in Tokyo, unable to afford housing, are forced to live in the suburbs and commute for three hours daily? This kind of prosperity is false; it’s achieved by sacrificing the future of young people.’ They almost got into an argument.”
Yamada Ichiro also lamented, “You’re absolutely right. The real estate faction is backed by major developers, like Tokugawa Sato of Kirin Group, who has connections with many assemblymen. Last year, they even wanted to build a resort next to Mount Aso in Kumamoto, claiming it would ‘boost tourism,’ but in reality, it was just to speculate on land. Fortunately, the prefectural office didn’t agree. If it had been built, it would have definitely damaged the environment around the volcano.”
“Therefore, we in Kumamoto shouldn’t get involved in Tokyo’s factional struggles.”
Masao Muto stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, his tone firm: “Whether the real estate faction wins or the television faction wins, our primary task is to do Kumamoto’s business well. Once they decide the winner, we can adjust our direction based on the situation. However, it seems that getting closer to the television faction would be more beneficial for Kumamoto right now.”
Yamada Ichiro and Isshin Fujiwara looked at him, waiting for him to continue.
Masao Muto leaned back against the seat, looking at Kumamoto Castle outside the window, his tone becoming very pragmatic: “Even if the real estate faction wins, they won’t invest much money in Kumamoto. Their focus is only on major cities like Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya. They see places like Kumamoto as having little development potential, maybe building a few apartments to make developers some money. But the television faction is different. Hiroshi-san has made Kumamon popular, and he can help us with more promotions in the future, like getting Tokyo TV to broadcast more of Kumamoto’s tourism short films, or having scenes of Kumamoto appear in Doraemon animations. These are tangible benefits that can attract more people from Tokyo and Osaka to visit Kumamoto, boosting our economy.”
“You’re absolutely right!”
Yamada Ichiro immediately agreed, a smile of affirmation on his face. “Last time Tokyo TV aired Kumamoto’s tourism short film, the number of visitors to Kumamoto Castle over the weekend increased by 30%, and the horse meat sashimi in the souvenir shops sold out. If we can have long-term cooperation with Tokyo TV in the future, Kumamoto’s tourism industry will definitely reach new heights.”
Isshin Fujiwara also nodded. “Hiroshi-san also mentioned wanting to have Future Manga Company draw a set of ‘Kumamon’s Travel Diary’ manga, introducing Kumamoto’s attractions and cuisine, and then publishing it through Shueisha. If this manga becomes popular, it will surely attract more young people to Kumamoto. Young people today love reading manga. If they see how fun Kumamoto is in the manga, they’ll definitely want to come and see.”
Masao Muto looked at their excited expressions and couldn’t help but smile. “So, building a good relationship with Hiroshi-san can only bring benefits, not harm, to Kumamoto. Talking with him for so long today has not only clarified Kumamoto’s development direction but also connected us with the television faction. This trip was not in vain.”
He suddenly remembered something, slapped his thigh, and said with a hint of regret: “We were so engrossed in our conversation that we barely drank a few cups at the izakaya, it wasn’t satisfying at all. Yamada, do you have anything planned this afternoon? Tonight, gather our old colleagues who used to work with us at the prefectural office. They all understand Kumamoto’s situation. Let’s find another place to have a few drinks and discuss our upcoming plans.”
Yamada Ichiro immediately nodded. “No problem! I’ll call our old friends right away. They’ll definitely be willing to come—we were discussing Kumamoto’s development with them last time, and they said they wanted to have a good chat with you, Governor.”
Masao Muto then looked at Isshin Fujiwara, his tone softening slightly. “Isshin, you don’t need to go back either. Your father, Motomaru Fujiwara, is a senior member of parliament in Kumamoto, with wide connections and a deep understanding of Kumamoto’s situation. Let’s invite him to join us tonight, and we can have a good discussion on how to implement Hiroshi-san’s ideas.”
Isshin Fujiwara paused for a moment, then understood.
Motomaru Fujiwara was a well-known politician in Kumamoto, with considerable influence within the Liberal Democratic Party. Masao Muto’s invitation to him clearly indicated a desire to consolidate Kumamoto’s human resources for future work, and perhaps even preparations for the next election.
He quickly nodded. “Yes! I’ll page my father right away. If he knows it’s your invitation, he’ll definitely come.”
Masao Muto smiled in satisfaction, leaned back against the seat, and looked at the setting sun outside the window, his tone full of anticipation: “Good! We’ll have a good discussion tonight and aim to finalize our work direction. The opportunity Kumamoto has now is not easy to come by. We must seize this chance to make Kumamoto better, to make young people willing to stay in Kumamoto, and to let more people know about Kumamoto’s good qualities.”
The commercial vehicle slowly drove through the streets of Kumamoto. The cherry blossom trees by the roadside cast long shadows in the sunset, and the Kumamon doll at the convenience store entrance was still waving at passersby.
Yamada Ichiro, holding his mobile phone, was calling his old friends, his voice full of excitement: “Hello, is that Old Sato? Are you free tonight? Governor Muto is inviting us for drinks, and there’s an important matter to discuss… Yes, it’s about Kumamoto’s development. You must come…”
Isshin Fujiwara, meanwhile, took out his pager and quickly typed on the keypad, sending a message to his father, Motomaru Fujiwara: “Dad, Governor Muto is inviting you for dinner tonight at ‘Kumamoto-ya’ izakaya next to Sakura Village, at 7 PM. There’s an important matter to discuss…”
Masao Muto watched them busily making calls, and the corners of his mouth unconsciously curved up.
He knew that tonight’s gathering was more than just an ordinary dinner; it was the beginning of his consolidation of local resources in Kumamoto and the paving of the way for Kumamoto’s future development.
And the catalyst for all this was that young Tokyo director—Hiroshi Nohara.
“Hiroshi-san…” Masao Muto murmured softly, admiration in his eyes. “What a remarkable young man. It’s Kumamoto’s good fortune to have met him.”
The commercial vehicle continued to drive forward. The afterglow of the sunset shone on the car body, giving the black car a golden sheen.
In the distance, Kumamoto Castle looked particularly magnificent against the sunset, as if witnessing the impending changes in the city.
Yamada Ichiro hung up the phone and said with a smile to Governor Muto, “Governor, our old friends have all agreed to come. They all worked with you at the prefectural office before, have deep affection for Kumamoto, and will definitely be able to help.”
Isshin Fujiwara also put away his pager and said, “My father replied to my pager. He said he’ll be there punctually at 7 PM and asked if he should bring some documents.”
“No need to bring documents, we’ll just chat casually.” Masao Muto waved his hand, his tone more relaxed. “Tonight, we’ll eat Kumamoto’s specialty dishes and drink local sake. We’ll eat and chat, no need to be too formal. The important thing is to unify everyone’s ideas and work together for Kumamoto’s future.”
The commercial vehicle turned a corner, and ahead was “Kumamoto-ya” Izakaya—a decades-old establishment. The owner was an old acquaintance of Masao Muto, and his horse meat sashimi and miso soup were famous in Kumamoto.
Masao Muto looked at the izakaya’s signboard, and his heart suddenly filled with confidence.
The road ahead might not be easy. They would have to face factional struggles from the central government, solve the problem of young people leaving Kumamoto, and develop the tertiary industry. But as long as they had a group of like-minded people working together, and as long as they could continue to collaborate with talented individuals like Hiroshi Nohara, Kumamoto would surely improve.
The sun gradually set, and night began to blanket the streets of Kumamoto. The lights of the izakaya came on, and a warm glow spilled onto the street through the windows, as if waiting for the lively gathering about to begin.
And this gathering would become an important starting point for Kumamoto’s future development, planting the seeds of hope for the city’s tomorrow.
…
In Kumamoto at 4 PM, the sunset had already painted the sky a light orange. Sunlight filtered through the cherry blossom trees in the Oyama family’s yard, casting dappled shadows on the bluestone entrance.
As Hiroshi Nohara closed the door of his old Toyota, he heard the “tap-tap” sound of wooden clogs from inside the house. Yoshiharu Oyama almost rushed out the moment he closed the door, still holding half a dorayaki he hadn’t finished, with a bit of flour on his apron, clearly having been busy in the kitchen just now.
“Hiroshi! You’re finally back!”
Yoshiharu Oyama walked up to him in a few strides, his eyes shining, his tone full of barely contained curiosity. “How did your chat with Governor Muto go? Nothing went wrong, did it? He’s the official in charge of millions of people in Kumamoto, you must be careful with your words, don’t be too casual like you are at home…”
Hiroshi Nohara took off his shoes while smiling and nodding, his fingertips still carrying the cool of the evening breeze from outside. “Uncle, don’t worry, the conversation went very smoothly. The Governor mainly asked about the follow-up IP development for Kumamon and the participation of Future Manga Company in character design. Everything has been mostly finalized. He also said the prefectural office will mail the appointment letter for ‘Kumamoto Prefecture Cultural Consultant’ to Tokyo next week. From now on, if Kumamoto has new promotional plans, they will contact me first.”
“Cultural Consultant!” The dorayaki in Yoshiharu Oyama’s hand almost fell to the ground. He quickly tightened his grip, his tone full of astonishment. “That’s an official appointment letter from the prefectural office! The biggest occasion in my life was twenty years ago when I was the Dean of Students at the middle school, and I went to the prefectural education department to meet the Director of Education. You don’t know, I was so nervous my palms were sweating, I even forgot how to say ‘hello.’ In the end, the Director took my hand first. You, on the other hand, had a lively chat with the Governor and even got an appointment letter. It’s truly… truly the younger generation surpassing the older!”
“You’re just envious.” Kayo Oyama came out from the kitchen carrying a celadon tea cup, steam rising from the rim. She smiled and handed the cup to Hiroshi. “Hiroshi has ability; he’s not intimidated by anyone. You, on the other hand, get nervous just meeting an education director, and you have the nerve to call yourself an ‘old educator.'”
“That was respect!”
Yoshiharu Oyama immediately retorted, his back straight. “The Director of Education was in charge of all the schools in the city; that was a big shot! Back then, I represented our Kumamoto Junior High School to receive the ‘Excellent Educational Unit’ award. How could I not be nervous? Unlike Hiroshi, who chats with the Governor like an old friend and even dares to propose plans for the development of the tertiary industry. I didn’t have that kind of courage when I was young.”
Misae, standing nearby, couldn’t help but laugh. She was still holding the Doraemon manuscript she hadn’t finished organizing that afternoon. Her pale purple loungewear made her skin appear even fairer.
Her cheeks were flushed with a faint redness from her laughter. “Dad, Hiroshi-kun isn’t just chatting with an old friend; he was very serious when talking with the Governor. Isshin-san said that in the prefectural office reception room, Hiroshi-kun even drew a tourism route map with Minister Yamada, coming up with ideas like ‘setting up Kumamon check-in points at each attraction, and tourists get a collectible by collecting stamps.’ Minister Yamada at the time said, ‘This idea is more detailed than what the consultants sent by the central government came up with.'”
She leaned closer to Hiroshi, adoration in her eyes, her voice soft. “I used to think it was enough that Hiroshi-kun could film ‘Seven Samurai’ and draw ‘Late-night Diner,’ but I never expected even Governor Muto to think so highly of you… Sometimes I feel like I’m dreaming. Just last year, you were an ordinary director at Tokyo TV, and now you’ve become Kumamoto’s cultural consultant and can discuss Kumamoto’s future with the Governor.”
Hiroshi Nohara took the tea cup, his fingertips touching the warm cup, and looking at Misae’s bright eyes, his tone softened unintentionally.
He smiled and said, “It’s just good luck that I encountered opportunities where I could utilize my skills. If Kumamoto didn’t have such a good foundation—with the scenery of Mount Aso, the comfort of Kurokawa Onsen, and the support of Uncle and Aunt, Kumamon wouldn’t have become popular. Besides, Future Manga Company’s ability to participate in IP development is also your own capability. Last time, when coloring ‘Late-night Diner,’ Editor Tadokoro even praised your detail processing as better than professional companies.”
“Alright, alright, don’t just stand by the door chatting. Come in quickly,” Kayo pulled Hiroshi towards the living room. “I’ve prepared some local specialties for you, all good things from Kumamoto. Take them back to share with your colleagues in Tokyo.”
Several paper bundles were already arranged on the low table in the living room. Kayo opened them one by one to show Hiroshi. “This is the strawberry daifuku I just made yesterday, using strawberries from the foot of Mount Aso; they’re especially sweet. This is horse meat jerky from ‘Sato-ya’ on the corner; it’s an old, reputable brand, best paired with sake. And this pickle is what I made myself, using Kumamoto’s unique small cucumbers; it’s very fragrant with rice. Put them in the refrigerator; they’ll last a long time.”
Hiroshi Nohara looked at the items on the table. Each paper bundle was folded neatly, with small notes attached, such as “Strawberry Daifuku （ Refrigerate for 3 days ）” and “Horse Meat Jerky （ Store at room temperature ）,” clearly marked by Kayo.
His heart immediately warmed. “Auntie, you’ve gone to so much trouble. You’re always so busy whenever I visit. Actually, you don’t need to prepare so much. I can buy Kumamoto’s specialty products in Tokyo too.”
“Can what you buy be the same?”
Yoshiharu Oyama sat on a cushion nearby, took a sip of tea, and said with a hint of pride, “These are homemade flavors! The strawberry daifuku you buy in Tokyo might use strawberries from Osaka; the horse meat jerky might have been frozen. They can’t compare to the freshness of local ones. Besides, you’ve helped Kumamoto so much, Governor Muto even called you a ‘benefactor of Kumamoto.’ As an elder, what’s wrong with me giving you some local specialties?”
He paused, then scratched his head sheepishly. “But to be honest, these things aren’t valuable. They can’t compare to the Tokyo TV commemorative badge you gave me before. Last time I showed it off to my old friends playing shogi in the park, they all envied me for having such a ‘capable junior,’ and even getting souvenirs from Tokyo TV.”
“Uncle, you’re too kind.”
Hiroshi Nohara shook his head, his tone very earnest. “How can sentiment be measured by money? Last time, the tonkotsu broth Auntie made was even tastier than the most famous izakayas in Tokyo. The shogi you taught me, I can now even win two games against Director Eiji Kurosawa. These things with the warmth of home are more precious than anything.”
Yoshiharu Oyama beamed at his words, put down his teacup, and slapped his thigh. “Well said! Hiroshi speaks so well! Oh, right, I know your flight is at 11 PM tonight. I’ve specifically booked the ‘Takeya’ izakaya near the airport. Tonight, our family will go out for dinner to see you and Misae off. I’ve already contacted Misae and Isshin. She said her school activities will end at 5 PM, and Isshin will drive her. Yume will also go directly after school, so we don’t need to wait for them.”
“Wow! Is it ‘Takeya’?” Misae’s eyes lit up. “I went there with Yume last time, and their grilled mackerel is especially delicious, as is the miso soup with its incredibly tender tofu!”
“Isn’t that right!” Yoshiharu Oyama smiled proudly. “The owner was a parent of one of my former students and has been running the izakaya for thirty years. The taste is absolutely authentic. I specifically asked him for a window seat where we can watch the planes take off from the airport. It’ll be so interesting to eat and watch the planes.”
Hiroshi Nohara quickly said, “This is too extravagant. Uncle and Auntie are already busy, and you’ve specially booked an izakaya for us… Actually, eating at home would be fine, no need to go to so much trouble.”
“Extravagant? Not at all!”
Yoshiharu Oyama waved his hand, deliberately putting on a stern face, but couldn’t hide the smile in his eyes. “You’re our prospective son-in-law, family from now on. Seeing you off is only proper, isn’t it? Besides, you’ve helped Kumamoto so much this time, Governor Muto himself thanked you. As an elder, I must have a few drinks with you and chat about your affairs in Tokyo.”
“Dad! Why are you saying that again…” Hearing the words “prospective son-in-law,” Misae’s cheeks instantly turned crimson. She quickly lowered her head, twisting the hem of her clothes, her voice as soft as a mosquito’s buzz.
Kayo and Yoshiharu Oyama both laughed, and Hiroshi Nohara joined in, the warm yellow light in the living room falling on them, making even the air feel cozy.
…
The sun gradually set behind the mountains, and streetlights began to illuminate the streets of Kumamoto. The warm yellow light shone through the living room windows of the Oyama house.
Around 6 PM, the sound of a car braking was heard at the entrance. Misae was the first to jump up. “It must be Big Sister and Isshin-san back!”
She ran to the door and indeed saw Misae getting out of a black prefectural official vehicle, still wearing her school’s light gray uniform jacket. Her hair was casually tied back, and she was holding a folder.
Isshin Fujiwara was still in his navy blue suit, holding a briefcase, helping Misae put the folder into the car. Seeing Misae, he smiled and nodded. “Misae-san, good afternoon.”
“Big Sister! Isshin-san!” Misae ran over and took the folder from Misae. “Was the school activity smooth? Were you late?”
“It was smooth, and it ended at 5 PM. Isshin-san came early to pick me up, so I wasn’t late.”
Misae ruffled Misae’s hair and looked at Hiroshi Nohara behind her, smiling. “Hiroshi-san, I heard your conversation with Governor Muto went very smoothly? Isshin told me the Governor specifically mentioned involving Future Manga Company in Kumamon merchandise design.”
Hiroshi Nohara nodded. “Yes, it’s been finalized. Next week, someone from the prefectural office will coordinate with Misae. If you need any materials then, you can also ask the prefectural office’s publicity department.”
Isshin Fujiwara walked over, still holding a small notebook, clearly having just taken some notes. “Hiroshi-san, after talking with the Governor today, I also met with people from the publicity department and wrote down your ‘Overseas Promotion Plan.’ They said they want to collaborate with travel agencies in Thailand and Malaysia first, to broadcast Kumamon’s short films on local tourism channels. They also want Future Manga Company to draw a set of ‘Kumamon’s Southeast Asian Travelogue.’ What do you think?”
“That’s a great idea.”
Hiroshi Nohara thought for a moment. “Tourists in Southeast Asia like cute characters, and Kumamon’s style fits their aesthetic very well. The manga can depict more cultural interactions between Kumamoto and Southeast Asia, for example, Kumamon taking photos with elephants in Thailand, or making coconut milk rice with locals in Malaysia. This will not only promote Kumamoto but also make local tourists feel more relatable.”
Yoshiharu Oyama listened from the side and nodded repeatedly, sighing with emotion. “I can’t understand what you’re all discussing, but it sounds impressive just listening to it. Back when I was Dean of Students, the most I did was chat with teachers from other schools about how to teach students. Unlike you all, you’re talking about ‘overseas promotion’ and ‘IP design.’ The times have truly changed.”
“Dad, if you’re interested, I can tell you more about it later,” Misae said with a smile. “For example, how much Kumamon merchandise has sold, or how much the tourist numbers have increased. You’ll definitely understand those things.”
As they were talking, light footsteps were heard at the entrance again. Yume came bounding in, her schoolbag bouncing, the Kumamon charm on her bag swinging back and forth. “I’m back! Second Sister, Brother-in-law, I saw the Kumamon mascot car at the school entrance just now. So many children were surrounding it and taking pictures. I even shook its hand!”
She ran up to Hiroshi Nohara and, as if presenting a treasure, held up her hand. “Look, I still have a Kumamon sticker on my hand! The staff gave it to me!”
Hiroshi Nohara looked at the pink Kumamon sticker on her hand and smiled. “It’s so cute! If you like it, Yume, I’ll ask the people at the prefectural office to give you more stickers next time.”
“Really? That’s great!” Yume jumped up excitedly. “I’ll put the stickers on my textbooks so all my classmates will envy me!”
Kayo smiled and patted her back. “Alright, alright, stop jumping. We need to go to the izakaya. If we don’t go soon, the owner will get impatient.”
So, two cars, one after the other, drove out of the Oyama family’s alley. Isshin Fujiwara was driving the prefectural office’s black Toyota commercial vehicle, with Yoshiharu Oyama in the passenger seat and Hiroshi Nohara in the back.
Misae was driving their family’s white Honda, with Kayo beside her in the driver’s seat, and Misae and Yume in the back.
As night deepened, the [Truncated: Max tokens]
Isshin Fujiwara gripped the steering wheel, occasionally glancing at Hiroshi Nohara in the rearview mirror, his voice full of admiration: “Hiroshi-san, today Governor Muto told us in his office that he particularly approves of the ‘Kumamon + agricultural products’ idea you proposed, and he said he wants the agricultural department of the prefectural office to implement it as soon as possible—for example, printing Kumamon’s image on strawberries and oranges to make gift boxes and sell them in Tokyo. The Governor also said you are a ‘benefactor of Kumamoto,’ and without you, Kumamoto wouldn’t have its current development.”
Yoshiharu Oyama, sitting in the passenger seat, immediately sat up straighter upon hearing this, his tone full of pride. “Of course! Governor Muto’s praise was spot on! Hiroshi is no ordinary person! Back when he was in Kumamoto, I already thought this child was steady and more sensible than other young people his age. Seeing him now, I was indeed right!”
He paused, then sighed with emotion, “It’s interesting to think about. I used to think young people were too young to achieve great things, but Hiroshi, who is only in his twenties, has already accomplished so much—An Shizhi, World of the Strange, and Seven Samurai. Which of these aren’t iconic works? It seems age really isn’t an issue; talent is the true ability.”
Hiroshi Nohara leaned back in the rear seat, looking at the passing streetscape outside the window, and said softly, “Uncle, you flatter me. I was just lucky and met good opportunities. For example, at Tokyo TV, Director Sakata and Deputy Director Asumi were very supportive, allowing me to freely create programs; and Senior Kurosawa taught me a lot about movies. Without them, I wouldn’t have been able to produce these works.”
“You are too modest.”
Yoshiharu Oyama glanced back at him and chuckled, shaking his head, “Luck is also a part of strength. If you don’t have the ability, you can’t seize an opportunity even if one arises. It’s like our company’s Mr. Sato. Last time, the prefectural office gave him a production slot for Kumamon merchandise, but he made the plush toys all crooked, and they were sent back in the end—that’s having an opportunity but not the ability.”
Isshin Fujiwara also nodded, “Mr. Oyama is right. Hiroshi-san is not only talented but also has foresight. For example, your advice to Governor Muto to pay attention to the real estate bubble and develop the tertiary industry more is something not everyone can think of. Now, young people in Kumamoto are all flocking to Tokyo. If we can develop the tourism and cultural industries as you suggested, allowing young people to have jobs and establish themselves in Kumamoto, Kumamoto will definitely get better and better in the future.”
The car drove along the coastal highway. In the distance, the sea level was dyed a golden red by the setting sun. The sea breeze blew through the car window, carrying a slightly salty and damp scent.
Yoshiharu Oyama looked at the sea view outside the window and suddenly sighed, “If only when I was young, Kumamoto had such good development opportunities. Back then, I just wanted to be a teacher and thought it was stable. Now I realize people should have some ambition and do something that can make their hometown better—like you, Hiroshi.”
“Uncle, it’s not too late now.”
Hiroshi Nohara smiled and said, “You are now the president of the Kumamon Culture Company, busy every day promoting Kumamon and driving Kumamoto’s economy. This is doing something for your hometown, and you are better than many people.”
Oyama Yoshiharu’s eyes lit up, and his back straightened a little more. “You’re right! I have a lot of energy every day now, and I feel like I’ve aged several years younger—when you come back to Kumamoto next time, Hiroshi, I’ll take you to see our company’s factory. We’re currently making Kumamon keychains and badges, and they’re selling really well!”
Isshin Fujiwara watched the two of them chat happily and a smile also appeared on his lips.
The car gradually approached the airport, and the streetlights on the roadside lit up one by one, their warm yellow light illuminating the path ahead.
Especially when Yoshiharu Oyama thought about the past few days, how he started registering the company, began overseeing the image design and IP development of Kumamon, as well as the quality of the merchandise, he felt that sense of power again.
Thinking about it now, it was all thanks to her two future sons-in-law, and she couldn’t be happier.
……
At the same time, the atmosphere was also particularly lively in the white car behind them.
Takao Oyama sat in the passenger seat, occasionally looking back at Misae and Mage in the back seat, her tone full of worry: “Misae, after you return to Tokyo, you must have a good talk with Hiroshi. The two families should find a weekend to get together. Your father already contacted Hiroshi’s parents via pager. They are in Omagari City, and although it’s a bit far from Tokyo, it’s only three hours by Shinkansen, which is very convenient.”
Misae sat in the back seat, clutching a small Kumamon plush toy, her cheeks still a little red. “I understand, Mom. Once Hiroshi is done with the Doraemon animation project, I’ll tell him.”
“What are you waiting for after you finish?”
Takao Oyama frowned, her tone a little urgent: “We need to hurry with this kind of thing! Look at your older sister, she’s engaged to Isshin-san and they’re getting married next year. You can’t fall too far behind. Hiroshi is a good kid, talented, good character, and he’s so good to you. A man like this is rare, you need to settle down with him sooner rather than later, to avoid any long delays.”
“Mom!” Misae’s face turned even redder. She quickly hid her face with a plush toy. “How could you say such a thing…”
“Second sister is just shy!” Mage, sitting beside her, suddenly leaned in, still holding a volume of Doraemon, laughing with her eyes curved into crescent moons: “I know what Second Sister is thinking. She must be thinking about being in the apartment in Tokyo with Brother-in-law, watching Doraemon together, eating strawberry daifuku together, and enjoying their time alone together, right?”
“Mage!” Misae reached out to tickle her. “If you keep talking nonsense, I won’t bring you manga from Tokyo!”
“Oops! I was wrong, second sister!” Mage dodged with a smile but didn’t give up: “But if second sister gets married, I want to be the ring bearer! And I want my brother-in-law to draw a special wedding episode of 《Doraemon》, with Nobita as the best man, Shizuka as the maid of honor, and Doraemon using the Anywhere Door to send everyone to the wedding venue. How interesting that would be!”
Takao Oyama watched the sisters squabble and couldn’t help but smile, “Mage’s idea is good. Hiroshi can draw a set then, and we can print them as invitations. How special! By the way, Misae, how big is Hiroshi’s apartment in Tokyo? Is it big enough for you all to live in? If not, your father and I can contribute some more money to help you get a bigger one. Although our family isn’t super rich, we can’t let you be mistreated in Tokyo.”
“Mom, we don’t need it.” Misae stopped playing and said seriously, “Hiroshi’s apartment has two rooms and one living room, with a small balcony, which is enough for us. And Hiroshi said that when the manga company develops well in the future, he wants to buy me a car, so it’ll be more convenient for me to go to work.”
“That’s good, that’s good,” Takao Oyama breathed a sigh of relief and added, “But you also need to pay more attention to Hiroshi. He’s busy with work and often has to stay up late to finish programs or draw manga. If you have time in the evening, cook him some miso soup or red bean soup to nourish his body. It’s not easy for a man to strive out there; he needs someone at home to dote on him.”
“I know,” Misae nodded gently, her eyes full of warmth. “Last time Hiroshi was drawing manga in Kumamoto, he stayed up until two in the morning, and I made him a bowl of tonkotsu broth. He said it was delicious and that he wanted to drink my soup every day from now on.”
“Ah! That’s the spirit!” Takao Oyama smiled even more brightly. “Women, you have to capture a man’s stomach to capture his heart. After being married to your father for so many years, I’ve only gotten him to treat me so well because I make him his favorite tempura every day.”
“Mom, what era are we in now? You’re still saying this.”
Masae Oyama, who was driving, couldn’t help but turn her head and interject, her tone carrying a hint of helplessness, yet also full of smiles. “But Misae, although Hiroshi seems calm, he’s actually very thoughtful. As you get to know him, you’ll need to communicate with him more. For example, when he’s busy, don’t throw a tantrum; wait until he’s free to tell him your thoughts—men are sometimes like children; they need to be coaxed.”
“Big sister is right,” Misae nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“See, this is the benefit of communication,” Masae Oyama smiled. “Also, Hiroshi is a public figure, and reporters will definitely be following him from now on. You need to be mentally prepared and not pick fights with him over small things. When I worked part-time at the prefectural office, I saw many entertainers’ family members who couldn’t stand the media attention and ended up divorcing. It’s such a shame.”
“I understand, big sister, I’ll be careful,” Misae’s tone was firm. “I trust Hiroshi, and I trust the feelings between us won’t be affected by these small matters.”
“That’s good.”
Isshin Fujiwara nodded in satisfaction. Remembering something, he took out a red cloth bag from his bag and handed it to Misae. “This is an amulet I prepared for you. I got it at a shrine next to Kumamoto Castle for your safety. Keep it with you, and may everything go smoothly whether you’re living in Tokyo or spending time with Hiroshi.”
Misae took the cloth bag. It felt warm in her hands, with a small cherry blossom pattern embroidered on it. She held it tightly, her eyes a little red. “Thank you, Mother.”
“Don’t be so formal with your mother,” Isshin Fujiwara ruffled her hair. “When you go back to Tokyo, be sure to call home often. Even though mobile phones are expensive now, we can still use the landline. If your father and I miss you, we’ll take the Shinkansen to Tokyo to see you, and maybe take a look at Hiroshi’s apartment to help you tidy up.”
“Okay,” Misae’s voice was a little choked, but she still nodded with a smile. “I’ll call home often, and I’ll tell you about things at the manga club, like Kobayashi-san’s design drafts for the Kumamon merchandise, and Mr. Sato’s new manga concepts, so you don’t have to worry.”
Mage watched her sister’s moved expression and put away her playful demeanor. She gently tugged at Misae’s sleeve. “Second sister, if you’re ever mistreated in Tokyo, come back to Kumamoto. Dad, Mom, and I will be waiting for you. Also, don’t forget to bring me manga from Tokyo, especially the latest volumes of 《Yu Yu Hakusho》. My classmates at school are waiting to borrow them!”
“Got it, I won’t forget,” Misae couldn’t help but smile and reached out to pat Mage’s head.
The car drove over the airport bridge, and the terminal buildings in the distance were brightly lit, like a lighthouse standing tall in the dark night.
Masae Oyama looked at the road ahead and said softly, “We’re almost at the izakaya. Let’s have a good chat with Hiroshi tonight; it’ll be a farewell gathering for them.”
Isshin Fujiwara nodded, looking at the night scenery outside the window, his tone full of expectation. “I hope Hiroshi and Misae do well in Tokyo, and I hope Misae’s manga club grows even better and Hiroshi’s career reaches new heights—our children are all wonderful.”
Misae leaned against the car window, watching the lights flashing by, her heart filled with warmth.
She knew that no matter what difficulties she encountered in Tokyo, her family would always be her support, and Hiroshi beside her would accompany her through all future challenges.
The car gradually approached the “Sakura Bloom” izakaya. The lanterns at the entrance glowed with a warm yellow light, bearing the two characters “Sakura Bloom,” looking especially cozy.
Fujiwara’s car was already parked at the entrance, and Hiroshi Nohara and Yoshiharu Oyama were standing there waiting for them.
Misae opened the car door and got out. She looked at Hiroshi Nohara not far away. He was wearing a suit, standing in the lantern light, a gentle smile on his lips, waving at her.
She walked over quickly, took his arm, and said softly, “Hiroshi-kun, we’ve arrived.”
“Yes, we’re here,” Hiroshi Nohara held her hand, his fingertips feeling warm. “Let’s have a good meal tonight; it’ll be our way of saying a proper goodbye to Kumamoto.”
Yoshiharu Oyama looked at their affectionate display and couldn’t help but smile. “Alright, alright, let’s not stand at the entrance anymore. The izakaya owner is waiting for us. They have freshly grilled mackerel and Kumamoto sake inside. We won’t go home until we’re drunk tonight!”
“Hooray! We won’t go home until we’re drunk!” Mage shouted excitedly, pulling Masae’s hand and running into the izakaya.
Isshin Fujiwara watched the children’s retreating backs, shook his head with a smile, and followed them into the izakaya. The lanterns at the entrance swayed gently, casting their long shadows, merging into Kumamoto’s night, warm and full of hope.
The lighting inside the izakaya was a warm, soft yellow, and the air was filled with the aroma of grilled mackerel and the rich scent of sake.
The owner, a man in his fifties wearing a white chef’s uniform, smiled and greeted them as they entered. “Yoshiharu-san, you’re here! I’ve saved the best seats for you and grilled your favorite horse meat skewers. Please, have a seat!”
Yoshiharu Oyama nodded with a smile and led everyone to a table by the window.
Hiroshi Nohara looked at the menu, which featured Kumamoto’s specialty dishes: grilled horse meat, tempura, miso soup, strawberry daifuku, and local Kumamoto sake.
He looked up at Misae and asked with a smile, “What would you like to eat?”
“I want grilled horse meat and strawberry daifuku!” Misae said without hesitation, her eyes sparkling.
“Okay, then we’ll have the grilled horse meat, strawberry daifuku, a portion of tempura, and a pot of sake,” Hiroshi Nohara closed the menu and handed it to the owner. “Owner, please bring them quickly; we have a flight to catch later.”
“Coming right up!” the owner replied with a smile and turned to go into the kitchen.
Yoshiharu Oyama looked at the beer mugs on the table and sighed. “Time flies so fast. Hiroshi, when you first came to Kumamoto, you were just a young man fresh from Tokyo. Now you’re going back to Tokyo as a cultural consultant. But it’s okay; come back to visit often in the future. Kumamoto will always be your home.”
“I will, Uncle,” Hiroshi Nohara raised his beer mug. “Come, let’s have a drink first to thank everyone for their care during this time.”
“Cheers!” Everyone raised their beer mugs, and the crisp clinking sound echoed in the izakaya, reflecting the warm yellow light, making it exceptionally cozy.
The night deepened outside. The shadows of the cherry blossom trees swayed gently in the light. The laughter and conversations within the izakaya, along with the sizzling sound of barbecue from the kitchen, intertwined to form the warmest image of Kumamoto’s night.
Hiroshi Nohara looked at the people around him, his heart filled with gratitude. Transmigrating to this world and meeting such wonderful family and friends was his greatest fortune.
He knew that after returning to Tokyo, many things awaited him: the animation of 《Doraemon《, casting for the live-action adaptation of 《Late-night Diner《, the television station’s election campaign…
But he also knew that no matter what difficulties he faced, there would always be a group of people supporting him, and this warmth from Kumamoto would accompany him into a brighter future.
