Chapter 244: Everyone Is Watching! Everyone Is Paying Attention! Everyone Is Waiting!
The day after the initial edit of the first episode of “Taste of Neon” was completed, Hiroshi Nohara rushed with his team to Gunma Prefecture. The theme for the second episode was set as “Warmth of the Streets,” focusing on a soba noodle shop that had been operating for thirty years in an old town.
As the car just entered Gunma Prefecture, Yuichi Matsui couldn’t help but start flipping through the shooting checklist, his tone filled with excitement: “Hiroshi-kun, are you sure we don’t need to reconfirm with the noodle shop owner beforehand? Last time we shot with Mr. Nomizu in Chiba, scouting ahead saved us a lot of trouble. This time, we just made one phone call, could we have missed any details?”
Hiroshi was looking down, modifying the storyboard, when he heard this and looked up, smiling: “Don’t worry, Mr. Matsui. Yesterday, I had Honda-chan talk to the owner for half an hour. We even noted down his habit of grinding soba flour at four in the morning. This time, our focus is on ‘inheritance’—the argument between the owner and his son, the regular customers’ habits—these are more important than simply filming the noodle-cooking process.”
Sakurako Honda, sitting in the passenger seat, immediately took out her notebook and pointed to a page: “Mr. Matsui, please look, I’ve written it all down. The owner’s name is Kosuke Sato, he’s fifty-eight years old, and his son, Kenta Sato, is twenty-five. Kenta wants to change the soba noodle shop into a Western-style coffee shop, and they’ve been arguing about it for nearly half a year. There are also regular customers, like Grandma Tanaka who lives next door, who comes for a bowl of tempura soba every afternoon at three o’clock, and she even brings her own pickled vegetables.”
Shigeru Saito, sitting in the back row, holding a camera, suddenly spoke up: “The light in the old streets of Gunma is dimmer than in Chiba. After four in the afternoon, tree shadows will block the light, so we need to prepare fill lights. Also, the steam from the soba noodles boiling can easily fog up the lens. I’ve brought anti-fog spray; we’ll need to wipe the lens every ten minutes of shooting.”
Hiroshi nodded: “Saito-san, you always think of the details. When we get to the noodle shop, we’ll first shoot close-ups of Mr. Sato grinding soba flour. Use side lighting to emphasize the granular texture of the flour, and then shoot his calloused hands—unlike Mr. Nomizu’s hands, his knuckles are thicker from years of kneading dough, and there are calluses from grinding.”
The car stopped at the entrance to the old street at exactly ten in the morning. Kosuke Sato’s soba noodle shop was in the middle of the old street. The wooden signboard was inscribed with the characters “Sato-ya,” and two pots of hydrangeas were placed at the entrance, their petals still glistening with dew.
Seeing Hiroshi and his team, Kosuke Sato immediately came out, still holding a rag stained with flour: “Nohara-kun? I heard from Honda-chan that you were coming today, so I specifically cleaned the grinding machine in advance.”
“Thank you for your trouble, Mr. Sato,” Hiroshi bowed. His gaze fell on the grinding machine inside the shop—it was an old machine from the Showa Period, its brass parts gleaming. “We’d like to shoot you grinding soba flour first. Is it convenient now?”
“Convenient! Convenient!” Kosuke Sato nodded repeatedly and turned to walk inside. “I grind the flour for today’s use at this time every day. Please shoot whatever you need; don’t mind me.”
Shigeru Saito immediately set up the camera, and Yuichi Matsui adjusted the fill lights nearby.
Kosuke Sato sat in front of the grinding machine, gripped the wooden handle with both hands, and began to turn it slowly. Soba grains fell from the hopper, turning into fine powder that landed in the bamboo sieve with a crisp rustling sound that was exceptionally clear.
Hiroshi stood beside him and said to Yuichi Matsui: “Shoot a close-up of his shoulder, the undulation of his muscles as he turns the wooden handle—these are the traces of thirty years of persistence, more convincing than any narration.”
Yuichi Matsui immediately adjusted the lens. In the frame, Kosuke Sato’s shoulder subtly rose and fell with the turning of the wooden handle, and the veins on his neck, exposed by his collar, bulged with exertion.
Sakurako Honda squatted beside them and quietly asked: “Mr. Sato, when you grind the flour, do you have any particular methods?”
Kosuke Sato smiled and replied: “There are many! The soba grains need to be sun-dried for three hours first. When grinding, the speed shouldn’t be too fast, otherwise the flour will heat up and affect the taste—my father taught me this way, and it hasn’t changed in decades.”
As they were talking, a young man in jeans walked in, holding a coffee shop design drawing. It was Kenta Sato.
Seeing the camera, he was taken aback and said with a hint of impatience: “Dad, how many times have I told you, don’t bother with these useless shoots. Hurry up and sign the shop transfer contract. The investors are waiting.”
Kosuke Sato’s expression immediately darkened, and he stopped turning the wooden handle: “I won’t sign! This shop was passed down from my father. If you want to turn it into a coffee shop, you’ll have to do it over my dead body!”
The atmosphere instantly became tense. However, Hiroshi’s eyes lit up, and he said to Yuichi Matsui: “Don’t stop, keep shooting! Capture their expressions, especially Mr. Sato’s eyes—there’s anger, and also a sense of grievance.”
Yuichi Matsui immediately aimed the camera at the two men. Kosuke Sato’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and his eyes were slightly red.
Kenta Sato frowned, the design drawing in his hand clenching tightly.
Sakurako Honda took the opportunity to ask: “Kenta-san, why do you want to change the shop into a coffee shop?”
“Why?”
Kenta Sato sneered, “Who eats stale soba noodles anymore? Young people love going to coffee shops; they’re fashionable and profitable. The coffee shop opened by my classmate earns more in a month than this old shop of my dad’s in a year!”
Kosuke Sato suddenly stood up, his voice trembling: “Old shop? This shop has supported our family for three generations! When you were sick as a child and we didn’t have money for a doctor, it was the money earned from this shop—and now you call it an old shop?”
Kenta Sato’s expression changed, but he still insisted stubbornly: “That’s all in the past! The times have changed, Dad, don’t always live in the past!” With that, he slammed the design drawing onto the table and turned to leave.
Watching his retreating back, Kosuke Sato sighed and sat down again, slowly turning the grinding machine.
Hiroshi walked over and handed him a cup of water: “Mr. Sato, don’t take it to heart. Kenta-san just wants to make life better for the family, but his methods are different.”
Kosuke Sato took the cup of water and gave a wry smile: “I know. But this shop is my life. If it’s changed, I’ll have let my father down.”
Hiroshi patted his shoulder: “When we film today, we will capture your persistence. Perhaps Kenta-san will understand your feelings after seeing the film.”
The rest of the filming went smoothly.
At lunchtime, regular customers began to arrive. Grandma Tanaka appeared right on time, carrying a small bamboo basket containing pickled radishes: “Kosuke-kun, please make the soba noodles a little softer today. My teeth aren’t good.”
Kosuke Sato immediately agreed with a smile: “Understood, Grandma Tanaka, it’ll be ready soon.”
His noodle-cooking technique was exceptionally skilled. After the soba noodles were in the boiling water, he gently stirred them with chopsticks. When they were eight-tenths cooked, he scooped them out, rinsed them under cold water, and then poured on the special sauce.
Yuichi Matsui’s camera followed his hands closely, from boiling the noodles to pouring the sauce, capturing every action with detail.
Hiroshi reminded from the side: “Shoot Grandma Tanaka’s expression when she eats the noodles. When she takes the first bite, her eyes will light up—make sure to capture this detail.”
Indeed, Grandma Tanaka picked up a mouthful of noodles, put them in her mouth, and her eyes instantly lit up: “Kosuke-kun’s noodles are still the best. Much more authentic than the soba noodles my daughter eats in Tokyo.”
The filming continued until evening. When they finished, Kosuke Sato insisted on keeping everyone for a meal of soba noodles.
Looking at the noodles in his bowl, Hiroshi suddenly said: “Mr. Sato, tomorrow we’d like to film you talking with Kenta-san, perhaps about your father’s experience opening the shop—maybe it can resolve the rift between you.”
Kosuke Sato was stunned for a moment, then nodded: “Alright, I’ll try to talk to him.”
The next morning, Kenta Sato did arrive. Although his expression was still unpleasant, he didn’t lose his temper as he had the day before.
When Kosuke Sato recounted how “father braved the typhoon to procure goods, returning drenched but carefully protecting the soba flour,” Kenta Sato’s eyes slowly began to redden.
Hiroshi seized the opportunity to have Yuichi Matsui film this scene. In the frame, the distance between father and son gradually closed, and the previous estrangement seemed to fade somewhat.
After filming the second episode, the team immediately rushed to Saitama Prefecture. The third episode, “Taste of Home,” focused on a typical family’s New Year’s Eve dinner. They chose the Takahashi family living in Saitama Prefecture. The mistress of the house, Keiko Takahashi, cooked a different home-style dish every day. Her husband was an office worker, and their son was in high school.
On the day of filming, Keiko Takahashi was busy in the kitchen early in the morning, frying tempura, boiling oden, and steaming salmon. The kitchen was filled with aroma.
Hiroshi asked Yuichi Matsui to shoot a close-up of her cutting vegetables. Keiko Takahashi’s hands were very skillful; carrots were cut into small flower shapes, and potatoes were sliced into uniform thin pieces.
“Keiko-san, why do you cook so many dishes every day?” Sakurako Honda asked curiously.
Keiko Takahashi smiled and said: “My husband works hard, and my son studies hard. If I cook more dishes and they enjoy eating them, I’m happy too. My mother-in-law used to do the same, waiting for us to come home for dinner every day. Now that she’s gone, I continue to do it.”
In the evening, Keiko Takahashi’s husband and son returned home.
As soon as their son, Kenichi Takahashi, put down his school bag, he went to the kitchen door: “Mom, is there tempura today? My classmate wants to try your tempura.”
Keiko Takahashi nodded with a smile: “Yes, I just fried it. Hurry up and wash your hands for dinner.”
The family sat at the dining table under a warm light. Kenichi Takahashi picked up a piece of tempura and handed it to his father: “Dad, try this. Mom’s tempura today is especially crispy.” His father took it, put it in his mouth, and nodded: “Mmm, your mom’s cooking is still the best. It’s even more fragrant than the tempura at restaurants outside.”
Hiroshi asked Yuichi Matsui to film this scene from the side. The light fell on the faces of the three, filled with warmth.
Shigeru Saito deliberately darkened the background to focus attention on the dishes on the table and the interaction between the three.
After finishing the shoot, Yuichi Matsui flipped through the footage and couldn’t help but exclaim: “Hiroshi-kun, the three themes you chose are excellent! ‘The Freshness of the Seaside,’ ‘Warmth of the Streets,’ and ‘Taste of Home’ perfectly encompass both the gourmet food and human relationships of Neon. Especially the New Year’s Eve dinner at the Takahashi’s, it made me miss home.”
Hiroshi smiled and nodded: “This is the effect I wanted. Food is just a medium; human relationships are the core. When the audience watches the film and remembers the people around them, the old tastes they’ve had, then the film can be considered a success.”
While Hiroshi Nohara’s team was busy filming the second and third episodes, Tokyo TV’s promotional efforts were also in full swing.
The entertainment section of “Asahi Shimbun” dedicated half a page to “Taste of Neon,” with the headline “Hiroshi Nohara’s Brand New Masterpiece! Telling Stories of Japanese Human Relations Through Food,” accompanied by a photo of Masayasu Nomizu casting his net.
Tokyo TV’s prime-time program “Tokyo Tonight Show” also dedicated an episode to pre-promotion. The host held up the trailer for “Taste of Neon” and said to the audience: “Do you all remember the warm oden in ‘Late-night Diner’? This time, Director Hiroshi Nohara takes us into Chiba’s seafood market, Gunma’s old streets, and ordinary families in Saitama, using his lens to capture the most authentic Neon cuisine and human relations. Next Saturday at 8 PM, tune into Kanto TV, and don’t miss it!”
Tadashi Hattori also coordinated advertising space on the Tokyo subway. Lightboxes in bustling subway stations like Ginza and Shinjuku were plastered with posters for “Taste of Neon.” The posters featured Masayasu Nomizu’s hands, Kosuke Sato’s grinding machine, and the Takahashi family’s dining table lined up, with the tagline “October 15th, 8 PM, taste the warmth of Neon.”
Kanto TV was also active, airing thirty-second preview trailers daily on its local news programs.
Ken Fujishita contacted local television stations in Chiba, Gunma, and Saitama prefectures, asking them to help broadcast the preview trailers. In exchange, Tokyo TV would include cultural and tourism promotional information for the three prefectures in “Taste of Neon.”
For a time, the entire Kanto region was covered by promotions for “Taste of Neon.”
In the office buildings of Tokyo City, during lunch breaks, office workers were all discussing this documentary.
“Did you guys see the ‘Asahi Shimbun’? Hiroshi Nohara has a new work out, a food documentary this time!” Yamada Ichiro, who worked at a trading company, said to his colleagues, holding up the newspaper.
Kenta Sato, sitting nearby, looked up, his eyes lighting up: “Hiroshi Nohara? The director who made ‘Seven Samurai’ and ‘Late-night Diner’? His documentaries are definitely going to be good! I remember being moved to tears by the stories in ‘Late-night Diner’.”
Another colleague, Hanako Suzuki, nodded: “My mom told me yesterday that the oden in ‘Late-night Diner’ was exactly like the one she made when she was young. This time, Director Nohara is filming a food documentary, I must let my mom watch it; maybe she’ll see the familiar old flavors.”
In classrooms at the University of Tokyo, during break times, students were also talking about “Taste of Neon.”
“I heard Hiroshi Nohara filmed the tuna auction in Chiba. I’ve never seen a tuna auction before, so I definitely have to watch it!” said Toru Watanabe, a third-year student, excitedly.
His classmate Keiko Yamaguchi smiled and said: “I’m more looking forward to the soba noodle shop in Gunma. My grandmother’s family is from Gunma, and every time I visit, I have to eat the soba noodles from the old street. I wonder if it’s the same shop Director Nohara is filming.”
Ken Tanaka, sitting beside them, pushed up his glasses: “Director Nohara’s works have never disappointed. ‘An Shizhi’ made urban legends so scary, and ‘Super Change Change Change’ encouraged people to interact. This documentary will surely have different surprises.”
On the Tokyo subway, passengers saw the posters on the lightboxes and couldn’t help but discuss them.
“This poster is really well done. Look at these hands, you can tell they have a story,” said a middle-aged man to his wife, pointing at Masayasu Nomizu’s hands on the poster.
His wife nodded: “Director Hiroshi Nohara’s works are always full of warmth. Last time we watched ‘Late-night Diner,’ you said it reminded you of the miso soup your mom used to make. Next Saturday at 8 PM, let’s not forget to watch.”
In a ramen shop, the owner was reading a newspaper and chatting with customers about “Taste of Neon.”
“Let me tell you, Director Hiroshi Nohara’s documentaries are definitely not going to be bad!” the owner said while cooking ramen. “I watched ‘Seven Samurai’ three times in the cinema specifically for it. The battle in the rice fields was so shocking. This time, he’s filming food; he’s sure to bring a different feel.”
A regular customer smiled and said: “Boss, how about we come to your shop and watch while eating ramen? Your shop’s TV can get Kanto TV.”
The owner immediately agreed: “Sure! I’ll prepare plenty of side dishes then, and we’ll watch together!”
Beyond the Kanto region, TV stations in other prefectures also received news about “Taste of Neon.”
In Osaka, during a production department meeting at Yomiuri TV, the department head held up promotional materials from Tokyo TV and said to his subordinates: “Everyone, take a look. Hiroshi Nohara is going to film a food documentary. This person is no ordinary talent; whatever he films becomes popular. We need to pay close attention and see what new tricks he’ll pull this time.”
The subordinates passed the materials around. A young director said: “Minister, should we also produce a similar program? Osaka has a lot of delicious food too, like okonomiyaki and takoyaki. If we do it well, it might become popular.”
The department head shook his head: “Don’t rush. Let’s wait to see the audience reaction after Hiroshi Nohara’s film airs. His filming techniques are very unique; we need to study them thoroughly before proceeding, and it won’t be too late.”
In Nagoya, in a meeting room at Nagoya Chubu-Nippon Broadcasting, directors were also discussing “Taste of Neon.”
“Hiroshi Nohara actually dares to film a documentary, and a food-themed one at that. He’s too bold!” one director said. “The food documentaries NHK has filmed before didn’t get good ratings. Isn’t he afraid of damaging his reputation?”
Another director retorted: “What do you know? Hiroshi Nohara is best at making even unpromising themes popular. Before, who would have thought ‘An Shizhi’ would get good ratings in the late-night slot? It ended up breaking 12%. This documentary might create a miracle too.”
The station manager rapped on the table: “Alright, stop arguing. Starting next week, closely monitor the ratings and reputation of ‘Taste of Neon.’ If the response is good, we’ll contact Tokyo TV to see if we can acquire broadcasting rights or collaborate with them to film a special on Nagoya’s cuisine.”
In Sapporo, directors at Hokkaido Broadcasting were also paying attention to “Taste of Neon.”
One director said: “Hiroshi Nohara is filming food from Kanto, but our seafood in Hokkaido is also very famous. If his film becomes popular, we could also film a food documentary about Hokkaido, which might boost local tourism.”
Another director nodded: “I heard Hiroshi Nohara also designed the mascots for Kumamon and the Akita Dog, which boosted local tourism revenue. If our documentary can be combined with tourism, we’ll definitely get government support.”
For a time, TV stations all over Neon were focused on “Taste of Neon.” Everyone wanted to see if this young director, who had created countless miracles, could once again break records and elevate the niche genre of documentaries to new heights.
Meanwhile, at Tokyo City Television, Kazuo Takahashi was looking at a report from the City TV Information Department, his expression growing increasingly grim.
The report stated: “‘Taste of Neon’ pre-release promotion is showing significant effects. Audience anticipation in the Kanto region is as high as 78%. Marui Soy Sauce has decided to be the sole sponsor, with a sponsorship amount reaching twenty million yen.”
He slammed the report onto the table and yelled at Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato: “Look at this! Hiroshi Nohara’s documentary hasn’t even aired yet, and it’s already secured twenty million in sponsorship! Our ‘Tokyo Peripheral Exploration’ has been hyping for so long, and we’ve only managed to get thirty million, and that’s all from small advertisers! What exactly have you two been doing?”
Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato lowered their heads, not daring to speak.
Kazuo Takahashi took a deep breath, his tone softening slightly: “Now is not the time to lose our temper. Immediately adjust the promotional plan. Bring forward Shunsuke Kamiki’s fan meeting, and contact several fashion magazines for more interviews with him—we must draw the audience’s attention back before ‘Taste of Neon’ airs!”
“Yes!” Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato quickly acknowledged and turned to leave.
Watching their retreating backs, Kazuo Takahashi picked up the promotional poster for “Taste of Neon” from his desk, his eyes filled with apprehension.
He knew that this prime-time competition would be fiercer than he had imagined. And Hiroshi Nohara, this director barely 23 years old, had already become his biggest threat.
At the same time, Hiroshi Nohara’s team had just finished filming the third episode and were preparing to return to Tokyo.
As the car drove on the highway, Sakurako Honda looked at the night scenery outside the window and suddenly said: “Hiroshi-kun, do you think our film will really boost local tourism as Mr. Hattori said?”
Hiroshi smiled and nodded: “Certainly. Look at Mr. Nomizu’s fish shop; gourmets from Tokyo are already making special trips to Chiba to eat sashimi. After the film airs, the old streets of Gunma and the ordinary families in Saitama might even become tourist destinations.”
Yuichi Matsui added: “If it can really happen, then we’ve done a good deed. We’ve both made a good film and helped local people—it’s much more meaningful than those variety shows that only chase ratings.”
Shigeru Saito, sitting in the back row, also showed a rare smile. He looked at the streetlights flashing by outside the window and suddenly felt that filming with Hiroshi Nohara was much more interesting than filming the monotonous local news at Kanto TV before.
The car continued forward, heading towards Tokyo. The night scenery outside the window grew brighter and brighter, just like the future of “Taste of Neon,” full of hope.
Hiroshi looked down at the storyboard in his hand, which depicted the content of the fourth episode—it was about an old Japanese sweets shop in Kyoto.
The story of this documentary had only just begun.
And what he had to do was present these warm stories to the audience one by one, allowing more people to feel the warmth of Neon.
…
In the meeting room of Tokyo City Television, the air was as heavy as lead.
Kazuo Takahashi slammed the “Asahi Shimbun” he was holding onto the table. The creases at the edge of the newspaper whitened from the impact. He stared at Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato opposite him, his voice unable to contain his anger: “Look at this! Hiroshi Nohara’s documentary hasn’t even aired, and the subway lightboxes and newspaper spreads are all his promotions! And what about our ‘Tokyo Peripheral Exploration’? Aside from discussions in Shunsuke Kamiki’s fan groups, who else cares?”
Jun Yamada tightened his grip on his pen and said softly: “Deputy Station Manager Takahashi, we’ve already contacted three fashion magazines, and Shunsuke Kamiki’s interviews will be published next week. We’re also planning a fan signing event at Senso-ji Temple—”
“Not enough!” Kazuo Takahashi interrupted him, his fingers tapping insistently on the table. “Hiroshi Nohara has set his prime time slot for October 15th. We’ll change ours too! Move Shunsuke Kamiki’s show, ‘Shunsuke’s Tokyo Roaming,’ forward to clash with ‘Taste of Neon’ on the same day and time!”
Takashi Sato was stunned for a moment and quickly said: “But Deputy Station Manager, ‘Shunsuke’s Tokyo Roaming’ was originally scheduled to premiere in November, and the footage isn’t even edited yet. Will changing the schedule now be too rushed?”
“Rushed or not, we have to do it!” Kazuo Takahashi stood up, walked to the window overlooking Tokyo Tower, and said with a desperate resolve: “Mayor Tanaka handed over the city station to me not to lose to some 23-year-old upstart! Shunsuke Kamiki is a priority artist for Kirin Group, and his fan base is substantial. Can’t he beat a documentary that nobody will watch?”
He turned and took a proposal from the drawer, throwing it to the two men: “This is the new plan. Have Shunsuke Kamiki film Tokyo’s trendy restaurants, interact with the owners of each restaurant, and perform some impromptu singing—young people will love this! Tell Shunsuke Kamiki that if he can beat Hiroshi Nohara this time, the city station will give him a personal variety show next year!”
Jun Yamada and Takashi Sato exchanged glances and could only nod in agreement: “Yes! We’ll go and liaise with Mr. Kamiki’s agent right away.”
The news spread like wings, reaching all corners of the Neon film and television industry by that afternoon.
In the pantry of Tokyo TV’s Production Bureau, several directors were waiting by the microwave to heat their meals, their conversations entirely revolving around this “prime-time showdown.”
“Did you hear? The city station is going to have Shunsuke Kamiki clash with Hiroshi-kun!” a young director whispered, his eyes full of excitement. “This is an open declaration of war!”
Another older director took a sip of tea and shook his head with a smile: “Kazuo Takahashi must be desperate. I’ve seen the sample footage for Shunsuke Kamiki’s show; it’s all staged interactions, completely different from the humanistic documentary Hiroshi-kun is filming. Does he think an idol’s face alone can win?”
Kouta Asano, who was wiping a cup, happened to overhear and chimed in: “When Hiroshi-kun filmed ‘Taste of Neon,’ he even calculated the rotation speed for Mr. Nomizu grinding soba flour based on the angle of the light. Shunsuke Kamiki will probably just pose with a V-sign in front of the camera at restaurants. Are the viewers fools?”
This news quickly spread to other TV stations. In a production department meeting at Yomiuri TV Osaka, the department head held up the city station’s new broadcast schedule and joked with his subordinates: “Tokyo City TV must be cornered. They’re pitting an idol variety show against a humanistic documentary; isn’t that like throwing eggs at a rock?”
The subordinates all laughed. One director said: “Mainly, Hiroshi Nohara’s reputation is too solid. With ‘Seven Samurai’ and ‘Late-night Diner’ as his track record, the audience trusts him! What does Shunsuke Kamiki have to show for himself besides scandals and fan support?”
In a meeting room at Nagoya Chubu-Nippon Broadcasting, the station manager looked at the ratings forecast report in his hand and said to the directors: “You all keep an eye on the ratings data for October 15th. I’m curious to see if Hiroshi Nohara can create another miracle. If he wins, we’ll contact Tokyo TV to buy the broadcasting rights for ‘Taste of Neon’.”
It wasn’t just TV stations; gossip tabloids also caught wind of the news. “Tokyo Entertainment Weekly” featured a headline in extra-large font on its front page: “Prime Time Showdown! Hiroshi Nohara vs. Shunsuke Kamiki, Decision on October 15th.” Below it were two photos: on the left, a profile of Hiroshi Nohara looking focused while reviewing footage at Chiba Pier; on the right, Shunsuke Kamiki striking a V-sign with a dazzling smile at a fan meeting.
The newspaper also included an “industry insider” report stating that Kazuo Takahashi had tripled Shunsuke Kamiki’s budget to ensure victory, even ordering ingredients to be air-freighted from France—the text was filled with mockery.
By evening, the izakayas in Shinjuku were buzzing with excitement.
Several film critics sat around a low table, with grilled saury and draft beer on it. The topic of conversation, from the very beginning, hadn’t strayed from this showdown.
Akira Saeki, with his graying hair, picked up his beer mug and took a sip, smiling: “I’ve been in this industry for thirty years, and this is the first time I’ve seen an idol variety show go head-to-head with a humanistic documentary—Kazuo Takahashi has truly disgraced the city station.”
Young film critic Keisuke Yamada, sitting next to him, agreed: “Exactly! When Hiroshi Nohara filmed ‘Taste of Neon,’ he spent three hours just talking to Mr. Nomizu about fishing techniques. Shunsuke Kamiki films restaurants and can’t even distinguish fish species, only saying ‘So delicious.’ How can they compare?”
Another film critic, Kiyoshi Sato, put down his chopsticks, his tone laced with disdain: “These idols nowadays, they can’t do anything but show their faces. Last year, an idol filmed a food program and called miso soup soy sauce soup, saying, ‘It’s all salty anyway.’ Such people only teach young people bad habits. Unlike Hiroshi Nohara, who filmed ‘Super Change Change Change’ and fostered communication between neighbors, and ‘Late-night Diner,’ which reminded people of family tastes. This is what making content should be like.”
Akira Saeki put down his beer mug and tapped his fingers on the table: “I’ve already spoken with the film critics of several newspapers. No matter how much the city station offers, I will give ‘Taste of Neon’ a high score—we film critics must have some moral integrity; we can’t lose our conscience for money.”
“Mr. Saeki is right!” Keisuke Yamada immediately nodded. “I’ve already written the first draft, focusing on the humanistic details in ‘Taste of Neon,’ such as the look in Mr. Nomizu’s eyes when he casts his net, and the old machine Kosuke Sato uses to grind soba flour—these are things that touch people’s hearts, far more impactful than Shunsuke Kamiki’s fake smile.”
Kiyoshi Sato also added: “I plan to interview several industry insiders who have seen the sample footage and highlight the cinematic language of ‘Taste of Neon.’ The lighting Shigeru Saito used can make the texture of tuna look like it’s glowing. This level of professionalism is nowhere to be seen in the city station’s programs.”
The izakaya owner walked by with a plate of food and, overhearing their conversation, couldn’t help but interject: “Esteemed sirs, I also support Director Nohara! My daughter is eighteen this year, and she usually only follows idols. Last time she saw the trailer for ‘Late-night Diner,’ she actually told me, ‘I want to try the oden my grandma used to make’—films like this, which can bring families closer, are much better than those idol shows that only make young people scream wildly!”
Akira Saeki smiled and raised his beer mug: “Come, let’s toast to Hiroshi Nohara’s ‘Taste of Neon’! Hopefully, on October 15th, more people will realize that good content is never propped up by looks alone!”
“Cheers!” The glasses of the few men clinked together, making a crisp sound. Beer foam splashed onto the table, only to be wiped away with a smile by the owner with a rag.
Meanwhile, at Kirin Group Artist Agency, Shunsuke Kamiki was practicing his smile in front of the mirror.
He was wearing the latest Armani suit, his hair meticulously styled with hairspray. His agent, Keisuke Yamaguchi, stood beside him, holding the city station’s new proposal.
“Shunsuke-san, the city station said that if this program’s ratings surpass ‘Taste of Neon,’ they will give you a personal variety show next year and invite top music producers to help you make an album.”
Shunsuke Kamiki raised an eyebrow in the mirror, a smug smile curling his lips: “Surpass Hiroshi Nohara? Too easy. Who watches those old fishermen and old shops he films, besides old people? I’ll film trendy restaurants and sing a song. My fans will definitely be glued to the TV—when the ratings come out, let’s see if Kazuo Takahashi dares to look down on me anymore.”
Keisuke Yamaguchi hesitated for a moment, but still said: “Shunsuke-san, Hiroshi-kun has a very good reputation, and the audience base for ‘Seven Samurai’ and ‘Late-night Diner’ is solid. We should still be careful—”
“Careful about what?” Shunsuke Kamiki turned around, impatience in his eyes. “He’s just someone who only knows how to film outdated themes! I’m a key artist for Kirin Group; even President Sato gives me some respect. Who does Hiroshi Nohara think he is?”
He picked up the diamond-encrusted mobile phone on the table, scrolled through his chat history with Toru Watanabe, and a sinister smile appeared on his lips: “Besides, I have a backup plan. If the ratings are uncertain at the time, I’ll have Watanabe’s side leak some ‘material’—like Mr. Nomizu’s fish shop having hygiene issues, or Mr. Sato’s soba flour being expired. Then, let’s see who dares to watch his documentary.”
Keisuke Yamaguchi’s heart sank, but he didn’t dare say more. He knew Shunsuke Kamiki’s temper too well; if he objected, he might end up having things thrown at him.
Meanwhile, in Tokyo TV’s editing room, Hiroshi Nohara was watching the initial cut of the second episode of “Taste of Neon” with Ichiro Hashimoto.
On the screen, the footage of Kosuke Sato turning the grinding machine slowly passed by. The rustling sound of soba flour falling into the bamboo sieve was clearly audible. Hiroshi pointed at the screen and said: “Make the background music here a little softer, to emphasize the sound of the grinding machine [Truncated: Max tokens]
Ichiro Hashimoto nodded and took notes. Suddenly, he remembered something and said with a smile, “Hiroshi-kun, everyone is saying that City Stage is going to compete with us directly, aren’t you worried at all?”
Hiroshi looked up, his eyes calm. He picked up the coffee on the table and took a sip, “What are you worried about? The audience wants good content, not the faces of stars. If we make the film well and let the audience see Mr. Nomizu’s persistence and Mr. Sato’s dedication, that’s enough.”
Sakurako Honda, holding her notebook, leaned in and excitedly said, “Hiroshi-kun, we just received news from the Chiba Prefectural Government that Mr. Nomizu’s fish shop has been getting a lot of diners from Tokyo lately. They’re all saying they’re waiting to see our film! And in the old town of Gunma Prefecture, a travel agency has already contacted the prefectural office about creating a ‘Soba Noodle Culture Tour’ route!”
Hiroshi smiled, a warmth entering his eyes. “See, good content will naturally be recognized. Shunsuke Kamiki’s variety show might attract temporary traffic, but what audiences remember forever are stories with warmth.”
Just then, Hiroshi’s mobile phone rang; it was Tadashi Hattori calling.
He picked up the telephone, and Tadashi Hattori’s voice came through the handset. “Hiroshi-kun, I’ve just finalized things with the Tokyo Subway Company. Starting October 10th, we’ll broadcast a 30-second preview of 《Taste of Neon》 inside the subway cars, and the footage of Mr. Nomizu casting his net will be played on the electronic screens at the stations. We want to let more people know that there’s a documentary worth watching on the evening of the 15th.”
“Thank you, Hattori-san,” Hiroshi replied, his tone filled with gratitude. “I appreciate your trouble.”
After hanging up the telephone, Hiroshi looked at the image on the screen of Kosuke Sato and his son reconciling. He suddenly understood very clearly that this prime time slot showdown was never a competition between him and Shunsuke Kamiki, but a contest between “content with warmth” and “traffic-seeking gimmicks.” And he believed the former would always win.
On October 10th, Tokyo’s subway cars indeed featured previews of 《Taste of Neon》.
During the morning rush hour, an office worker in a suit stared at the screen. When he saw the footage of Masayasu Nomizu casting his net, he couldn’t help but say to his colleague next to him, “My grandfather was a fisherman too, just like Mr. Nomizu. He always used to say, ‘The sea never lies’—I have to go home and watch this film on the evening of the 15th.”
The female student next to him leaned in and said, “My mother read the newspaper yesterday and said she wants to see the soba noodle shops in Gunma. She said they look like the old street where she lived as a child.”
Meanwhile, on the City Stage side, Shunsuke Kamiki’s 《Shunsuke’s Tokyo Roaming》 also began its pre-show publicity.
Holding a microphone at a fan meeting, he shouted to the fans below, “At 8 PM on October 15th, I’ll take you to eat Tokyo’s best trendy restaurants, and I’ll also sing you new songs—be sure to watch on time!”
The fans below screamed and held up their support signs, creating a lively scene.
However, in discussions among ordinary viewers, more people were saying, “Hiroshi Nohara’s documentary seems very interesting. Let’s watch it on the evening of the 15th.”
As October 15th drew closer, the air throughout the Kanto Region was filled with anticipation.
In the production department of Tokyo TV, Yuichi Matsui had already polished the cameras until they shone, preparing to go to Mr. Nomizu’s fish shop that day to film audience reactions.
Sakurako Honda had organized all her interview notes, awaiting follow-up promotion after the film’s broadcast. Shigeru Saito, meanwhile, had checked the broadcast equipment over and over to ensure there would be no errors that evening.
And Hiroshi Nohara continued to spend his days in the editing room, adjusting the rhythm of each lens on the screen.
Ichiro Hashimoto occasionally asked him, “Hiroshi-kun, would you like to see the sample film from City Stage?” He always shook his head. “No need, we just need to do our best.”
Everything was moving towards 8 PM on October 15th.
And this was Hiroshi Nohara’s 《Taste of Neon》, a humanistic documentary broadcast in the prime time slot on Kanto Television Station.
PS: Shamelessly asking for votes again.
