novelraw Chapter 202: Midnight Diner Explodes in Popularity! The Manga Adaptation Premiere Review! The 9 PM Sub-Prime Time Arrangement!
Chapter 202: Midnight Diner Explodes in Popularity! The Manga Adaptation Premiere Review! The 9 PM Sub-Prime Time Arrangement!
Night was Shinjuku's finest makeup artist.
In barely two or three days, when the lights came up and painted Kabukicho's desire-drenched streets in their usual ambiguous hues, that narrow alley — once known only to veteran drinkers and late-night gourmands — was engulfed by an unprecedented surge of humanity.
"Hey! Is this the place? Is this really it? The filming location for Midnight Diner that was in the newspapers!"
"Has to be! Look at that blue curtain! And the little lantern by the door! It's exactly like the manga!"
"Wow— it really is! I feel like I've walked right into the manga! It's so real!"
"Hurry, hurry! Let's get near the front! Maybe we can snag seats in the first group!"
At the alley's entrance, a cluster of fashionably dressed college girls — still carrying traces of youthful innocence — stood on tiptoe, craning their necks to peer inside, their excitement threatening to burst through the night itself.
Behind them stood several men in crisp business suits, clearly just off work. Despite their best efforts at adult composure, their eyes — glinting behind glasses — betrayed the same inner excitement.
"Yamada-senpai, do you think... we'll actually get to eat the tamagoyaki from the manga today?" A young employee who looked fresh out of training gazed expectantly at the balding middle-aged man beside him.
"Shut it, Kobayashi!" The man called Yamada-senpai shot him an irritated look, though he couldn't help swallowing hard. "We're just passing through! Passing through! Taking a quick look! Don't go blabbing about this — if another department hears, they'll think everyone in Sales Division Three goofs off instead of working!""Yes sir! Yes sir! Understood!" The young employee nodded frantically, his bobbing head drawing good-natured laughter from those around him.
At the very fringe of the crowd, there were even a few blonde, blue-eyed tourists who appeared to be visiting Japan. They held up their phones, snapping photos of the alley while excitedly exchanging words with locals in broken Japanese.
"This is amazing! It's just like the manga I read online! So cool!"
"Sumimasen! Excuse me! Please... the boss... face... with the scar... is he inside?"
The entire alley had become a theme park on opening day, buzzing with anticipation, curiosity, and excitement.
And at the heart of this park — inside that tiny restaurant without even a proper sign — Mizukami Sho's personal "war" was raging at full intensity.
"Sizzle—"
Golden egg batter solidified rapidly in the scorching pan. Mizukami Sho flicked his wrist, sending the thick, fluffy egg cake in a perfect arc before it landed neatly back in the pan.
Without missing a beat, he grabbed another pan, poured in prepared rice and ingredients. The spatula clashed against iron in a crisp, rhythmic symphony. Rice grains danced above the flames, melding perfectly with soy sauce and scallions, releasing a mouthwatering aroma.
"Honey! Is that cat rice ready yet? The table in the back has asked three times already!"
Beyond the counter, Mizukami Sho's wife, Misaki, clutched an empty tray, frantic as an ant on a hot griddle.
She wore a white apron matching her husband's, her usually gentle face now etched with exhaustion and a hint of near-meltdown.
"Coming! Almost done!" Mizukami Sho called back without looking up. He portioned the fried rice and freshly made cat rice into two clean ceramic bowls, then — with almost acrobatic speed — snatched several red octopus wieners from the fridge and tossed them into a skillet.
"Misaki! The octopus wieners for the outside table are almost ready too!"
His voice already carried a faint, rueful undertone.
While the wieners sizzled, his quick hands hauled an empty beer keg from under the counter, grabbed a fresh, heavy one from the corner, and wrestled it into place.
"Misaki! Draft beer's ready! Top off the customers' glasses first! Let them drink while they wait!" he called out, fine beads of sweat already dotting his forehead.
"Got it! Got it!"
Inside the counter area, every seat was taken.
A dozen-plus customers sat shoulder to shoulder along the small L-shaped counter, every face radiating heartfelt satisfaction and happiness.
"Wow— Owner! Your cooking is absolutely godly!" A cute young woman in a pink sweater was eating her tamagoyaki in a state of pure bliss, her bright eyes practically shooting stars. "This tamagoyaki is sweet, fragrant, soft as silk, and smooth as butter! Better than any five-star hotel I've ever been to!"
"Totally! Totally!" Her equally fashionable friend nodded along, carefully savoring the seemingly simple yet magically potent cat rice. "And this cat rice! The bonito flakes on top are so savory my eyebrows nearly fell off! With the rice and soy sauce, it's just... it's the taste of heaven!"
"You girls don't even understand!" A middle-aged man across from them — business suit, executive bearing — wore a knowing "been there" expression. He raised his glass for a sip, as confident as if he owned the place. "This restaurant isn't about the food. It's about the feeling! The atmosphere! That warmth that heals everything in the dead of night!"
"Exactly! Exactly! That's so true, sir!" A young man in a baseball cap — college student by the looks of him — chimed in excitedly. "Sitting here, I genuinely feel like a character from the manga! Everyone around me seems like a traveler with their own story! And the Owner — he's the ferryman, silently listening to all our tales!"
"Yes! Especially the Owner himself! He looks exactly like the manga!" Another bespectacled young man agreed, pushing up his glasses, his usually cool eyes now blazing with worship. "That scar, that quiet presence, those eyes that seem to see through everything — it's a flawless recreation!"
Listening to these heartfelt accolades while frantically working in the kitchen, Mizukami Sho allowed himself a bashful, slightly exasperated smile.
He emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of freshly fried octopus wieners, his composure forming an endearingly stark contrast with the feverish atmosphere around him.
"You're all too kind." He set the wieners gently before the two girls, his voice low and magnetic. "I'm just a cook making simple home cooking."
That modesty, that calm, and the story-laden scar — all bathed in warm amber light — made him extraordinarily magnetic.
"Wow—!"
"So handsome!"
"Oh my god! When the Owner smiles, he's so gentle!"
"I think... I'm in love!"
The two chattering girls fell instantly silent, hands pressed to their mouths, pink hearts practically bursting from their shining eyes.
They gazed at Mizukami Sho as though staring at a perfect romantic hero who'd stepped straight out of the manga.
Watching this "hearts all aflutter" scene, Misaki's gentle face assumed an expression caught somewhere between laughter and tears.
She reached over and gave her husband's waist a discreet little pinch.
"Hiss—"
Mizukami Sho winced. His "idol" aura popped like a bubble, yanked back to reality.
Catching his wife's murderous glare, he offered a placating smile.
But before he could beg for mercy, the shop door slid open again.
"Ding—"
Wind chimes tinkled as several more young visitors — clearly here on the restaurant's newfound fame — peered inside expectantly.
"Owner! Are there any seats left?"
Misaki sighed deeply. She felt her back might actually break.
Summoning a professional smile, she hurried to the door and bowed apologetically.
"I'm terribly sorry, we're completely full for tonight." Her voice was tired but unfailingly polite. "Perhaps you could try again tomorrow?"
"What? Full?" Disappointment flooded their young faces.
"Then... can we at least peek inside?" The apparent ringleader pressed, undeterred, his eyes straining past Misaki's shoulder into the restaurant. "Just one look! One look at the legendary Owner! They say he looks exactly like the manga!"
"Please! Please!" His companions joined in with equal persistence, their determination giving Misaki a headache. "We just want to see what the real-life Midnight Diner looks like! We're begging you! Just one peek!"
"Well..." Misaki smiled helplessly. Looking at these young people, so full of energy and enthusiasm, even her reality-hardened heart couldn't help softening.
She knew refusing them meant refusing their longing for warmth.
"Honey!" She called toward the kitchen with fond resignation.
Mizukami Sho's head emerged once more from behind the deep indigo curtain.
He looked at the young faces gazing at him from the doorway with eager anticipation, and his stern face softened into that same resigned yet indulgent smile.
"Wow—!"
"It's really the Owner!"
"Oh my god! He looks exactly like the manga! Even that exasperated expression is the same!"
"Owner! Can we take a picture with you?!"
"Owner! We're your biggest fans!"
The instant they saw Mizukami Sho, the young people at the door erupted like fireworks, their screams shaking the night.
They babbled incoherently, some even trying to rush inside for a close encounter with their "idol."
"Everyone! Everyone! Please calm down!" Misaki spread her arms to block them, her hostess authority making her impressively formidable. "We're still serving customers! Please don't disturb the diners!"
"But... but we—"
"The kitchen is off-limits to non-staff." Mizukami Sho's calm, powerful voice cut through the noise. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, truly. But I still have food to prepare for my customers. If you genuinely like my little shop, please wait quietly outside."
His words — like the gentlest spring breeze — instantly soothed every racing heart.
The young people exchanged glances, finding in each other's eyes the same "understanding."
They knew this was exactly how the mysterious, untouchable "Owner" of their hearts should behave.
"W-We're sorry! Owner! We got too excited!"
"We'll wait outside! We absolutely won't disturb you!"
"Thank you for your hard work, Owner!"
Under Misaki's gentle persuasion, the young visitors finally retreated to the alley's entrance, satisfied.
But they didn't leave. Instead, they joined the steadily growing stream of fans, spontaneously forming a long queue — a warm, uniquely late-night spectacle of devotion.
...
When the clock crept past three in the morning — when the final customer set down his chopsticks in deep contentment, bowed deeply to Mizukami Sho, and vanished into the night—
Mizukami Sho and Misaki finally, finally exhaled.
They leaned on each other, dragging their exhausted bodies to the counter seats.
"My... back... is about to snap." Misaki collapsed onto the counter, her gentle face now a portrait of existential defeat.
"You worked so hard, Misaki." Mizukami Sho reached over and gently rubbed her back, his concern unmistakable.
"Oh — darling." Misaki suddenly remembered something and lifted her head, concern filling her gentle eyes. "You've been working all day. Do you have to go to the production set again tomorrow? Can your body handle it?"
"Relax — I don't need to go tomorrow." Mizukami Sho shook his head with a smile.
"You don't? Why not?" Misaki asked, puzzled.
"Because..." A smile of equal parts resignation and admiration crossed Mizukami Sho's face. "The first seven episodes of Midnight Diner are already... completely filmed."
"What?!" Misaki's eyes went round again. She clamped a hand over her mouth, disbelief plastered across her face. "S-Seven episodes?! In just a few days?! When you used to act, finishing one episode in two or three days was considered fast! How did Mr. Nohara even do this?!"
Mizukami Sho could only shrug helplessly, his eyes filled with bone-deep awe for that young man.
"Who knows?" he murmured, tinged with reverence and matter-of-fact composure. "After all, the entire Japanese television industry acknowledges him as a genius and a monster."
Misaki nodded in deep agreement.
She knew that beyond "genius" and "monster," no words in any language could adequately describe the young man who had transformed their family's fate.
"But anyway—" A radiant grin suddenly blossomed across Misaki's face. She fished a thick envelope from her apron pocket, barely containing her elation. "Darling! Guess how much we earned tonight?!"
"How much?"
"Seventy thousand yen! A full seventy thousand yen!" Misaki babbled with incoherent excitement, staring at her husband with irrepressible joy. "Oh my god! Before, we'd work ourselves to the bone for days and not make this much! This is just... unbelievable!"
Mizukami Sho's face broke into an honest grin.
"It's thanks to Mr. Nohara's publicity effect." He said softly, a note of wonder in his voice.
"No! It's more than just publicity!" Misaki declared passionately, her eyes filled with boundless hope for the future. "This is the beginning of our new life! With this money, we can give Sayuri a better life! We could even go on vacation to Hawaii or shopping in Paris, like rich people!"
Watching his wife's face flush crimson with happiness, Mizukami Sho's reality-hardened heart filled with an entirely new emotion — one called "responsibility."
"Yes, Misaki." He reached out and pulled his wife into a tight, firm embrace — solid as bedrock.
"From now on, I will give you and our daughter a good life."
He paused, a quiet pride entering his voice. "The location rental and my acting fee come to a hundred thousand yen a day. Add in the shop's daily income of seventy thousand yen, and we'll be wealthy before we know it."
"Mm!" Misaki nodded vigorously, burying her face deep into her husband's broad, warm chest. The happiness welling from her core made her feel as though she held the whole world.
"Meeting Mr. Nohara was truly the best thing that ever happened to us." She murmured, her voice sweet with gratitude.
"It really was." Mizukami Sho agreed, gazing at the sky beyond the window as it slowly lightened to the soft gray of predawn. The heart that had lain dormant for twenty years began to beat fiercely once more.
"It really, truly was."
...
The following morning, the floor housing TV Tokyo's Audit Department hummed with an unusual electricity of anticipation.
In the corridor, Deputy Bureau Chief Asumi, Executive Deputy Director Takada Toshihide, Nohara Hiroshi, and Director Sato Kenji happened to converge at the elevator bank. Trailing behind them were several excited middle-aged men — Minamino Ken and other veteran Kanto Faction actors who'd appeared in Midnight Diner.
"Well, well! Hiroshi, Director Sato! You're here too!" Asumi's trademark booming voice rang out first. He clapped Sato Kenji's shoulder with enough force to send the man stumbling. "I hear you've practically moved into that Shinjuku alley these past few days! So? Has our Department Manager's 'Hiroshi Speed' left you shell-shocked?"
A rueful smile crossed Sato Kenji's perpetually weary face, though his eyes now burned with near-fanatical light. "Deputy Bureau Chief Asumi, please don't tease me. 'Shell-shocked' doesn't begin to cover it. I feel like my entire worldview has been... rebuilt from scratch."
"Ha ha ha ha! Knew it!" Asumi roared with laughter, his voice thick with shared pride.
"Hmph. Nothing to be so shocked about." Executive Deputy Director Takada Toshihide, though the faintest smile played at his lips, maintained his senior official's reserve. "We've known about Hiroshi's abilities for quite some time. Director Sato, you've been given an exceptional opportunity — make the most of it. Don't squander the promotion Hiroshi has given you."
"Yes, sir! Rest assured!" Sato Kenji bowed quickly, his manner respectful yet resolute.
Even as he spoke, a trace of awkwardness colored his expression. After all, he'd once been Takada Toshihide's planted spy within the Kanto Faction.
Now that both factions had merged, his former double-dealing had become rather... uncomfortable.
So facing Takada Toshihide made Sato Kenji genuinely uneasy — haunted by the fear that future conflicts might give his old handler leverage over him.
But Takada Toshihide had noticed Sato Kenji's anxiety. The corner of his mouth curved faintly, and he offered a measured nod of encouragement. "Keep up the good work. Following Nohara Hiroshi is truly the best path to advancement — and you'll learn a great deal."
"Yes, sir!" Sato Kenji nodded again.
Meanwhile, Asumi's gaze swept over the veteran actors, his grin widening. "You gentlemen are looking remarkably well! Seems working with our Hiroshi really does put a spring in your step!"
"Deputy Bureau Chief, please don't make fun of us old-timers." Minamino Ken replied with his perpetual genial laugh, though his face now radiated genuine admiration. "We don't just have a spring in our step — we feel twenty years younger! Working under Department Manager Nohara is pure exhilaration! In a word: incredible!"
"Absolutely! Absolutely!" The other veterans chimed in, their heartfelt praise overflowing.
They'd all experienced the baptism of Nohara Hiroshi's storyboards — spending these past few days simply following the pages, encountering virtually no obstacles.
The sheer simplicity of the production process left them all in disbelief.
And it filled each of them with genuine, marrow-deep reverence for Nohara Hiroshi.
This was the capability of a god-tier director.
He didn't demand that actors possess exceptional skills of their own — he only required them to perform according to his precise instructions, and the result was perfection.
If that wasn't a god-tier director's ability, what was?
Just then, the Audit Department doors swung open from inside, revealing a woman in a tailored suit — sharp, elegant, and smiling at the threshold.
It was Takeshita Ai, head of the Audit Department.
"Deputy Bureau Chief Asumi, Executive Deputy Director Takada, Department Manager Nohara — welcome, everyone." She bowed with flawless courtesy, then turned her gaze to Nohara Hiroshi. Her usually composed eyes carried a perfect measure of deference and... a touch of wry resignation.
"Department Manager Nohara, we've received your project proposal and master tapes." She smiled, a note of self-deprecation in her voice. "Honestly, who in the Audit Department would dare have opinions about your submissions? This is purely procedural. Even Bureau Chief Sakata sings your praises — we subordinates just need to stamp the paperwork."
The remark was watertight in its diplomacy — elevating Nohara Hiroshi while clearly establishing the Audit Department's stance. Everyone present exchanged knowing smiles.
"Section Chief Takeshita, you're too kind." Nohara Hiroshi replied with a calm smile, his modesty perfectly calibrated.
"Well then, let's not stand in the doorway." Takeshita Ai stepped aside with an inviting gesture. "The screening room is ready, and the review staff are waiting. Shall we begin?"
She personally led the group through several bright corridors, stopping at last before a spacious, professional screening room.
Inside, the review staff were already assembled. The moment they saw Deputy Bureau Chiefs Asumi and Takada flanking the station's reigning golden boy, Nohara Hiroshi, they rose from their seats en masse with respectful bows.
"Alright, alright — everyone sit." Asumi waved his hand with executive authority, the entire room seeming to quiet in response.
"Let's begin the screening." Takada Toshihide looked toward Takeshita Ai, a faint smile crossing his habitually stern face. "We can't wait."
"Yes sir, one moment." Takeshita Ai replied.
As everyone settled in and the lights dimmed, the massive screen flickered to life. Every eye locked onto the luminous canvas about to unfold a miracle.
The familiar opening music rose — a plaintive yet world-weary guitar melody, like the gentlest evening breeze — instantly transporting everyone into that story-laden, warmth-suffused midnight world.
Episode one: "Red Wieners and Tamagoyaki."
When Mizukami Sho's "Owner" appeared on screen — back to the camera, unhurried in the compact kitchen as he prepared ingredients — gasps rippled through the room.
"My god! That silhouette... that atmosphere... it's exactly like the manga!" A young female reviewer in charge of visual assessment couldn't contain a whispered exclamation.
"And the kitchen set design! It's insanely realistic! Those pots and pans, those seasoning jars — it genuinely looks like a real restaurant!" Her colleague in props review agreed immediately.
But when the camera slowly panned around — when Mizukami Sho's face, bearing that scar stretching from his left eyebrow down his cheek, filled the massive screen in vivid clarity—
The entire room plunged into deathly silence.
"Hiss—"
A collective intake of breath.
"This... isn't this a man who walked straight out of the manga?!" Asumi bolted upright in his seat, his shrewd eyes round as saucers, his face a mask of disbelief.
"An absolutely flawless recreation!" Takada Toshihide exclaimed, shock replacing his perpetually guarded expression. "The scar, the quiet bearing, those eyes that seem to see through everything — identical. Every detail!"
"More than identical!" Minamino Ken stared at his on-screen counterpart — the "Owner" he'd shared scenes with — and even this unflappable veteran couldn't keep his composure. "I'm telling you, there were moments during filming when I lost track of reality! I kept feeling like I wasn't acting at all — like I'd genuinely walked into that story-filled midnight diner!"
As astonished murmurs filled the room, the story unfolded.
Minamino Ken's yakuza boss Aryu swaggered in — only to order a plate of red octopus wieners, completely at odds with his fearsome exterior.
"Ha ha ha ha! That contrast! Brilliant!" Asumi laughed aloud. "A yakuza boss who looks like he could take on ten men — and his favorite food is the kind of wieners only kids eat! Hiroshi, that setup is a stroke of pure genius!"
"Using food to reveal a character's softest, most vulnerable side — very sophisticated technique." Takada Toshihide nodded, strategic appreciation glinting in his deep-set eyes.
Episode one ended. The credits rolled.
But the screening room remained utterly silent.
Everyone was still suspended in that feeling — finding profound meaning in the mundane, warmth that lingered long after the last note faded.
"That's... it's over?" Takeshita Ai murmured, her eyes glistening.
Then episode two: "Cat Rice."
When the struggling, down-on-her-luck singer — at the lowest point of her life — ordered the simplest bowl of cat rice, eating through her tears while singing the song that represented her original dream, more than a few sensitive women in the room began quietly sobbing.
"It's so beautiful... so moving..."
"That bowl of cat rice — she's not eating rice, she's eating her dreams..."
"Who among us hasn't had a time like that — lost, helpless, searching for meaning?"
Episode three: "Ochazuke."
Three unmarried older women sitting in the dead of night, eating ochazuke while venting about their failed love lives. Their seemingly breezy banter, shot through with loneliness and yearning, struck directly at the hearts of every urbanite in the room.
"The dialogue is almost too real. This is exactly what the older single women around us sound like." A senior script reviewer couldn't help but remark.
"They say 'men are all pigs' on the surface, but deep inside, they still desperately want a love that's pure and real. That contradiction, that struggle — it's absolutely devastating!"
When the three-episode screening ended and the lights came back up, tear tracks still lined every face.
They looked at each other and found the same shock, the same emotion, and the same fervent, utterly conquered adoration.
"Clap! Clap! Clap!"
Someone started it.
Then thunderous applause swept through the room like a tsunami!
"Magnificent! Absolutely magnificent!"
"I honestly think the live-action version is even better than the manga!"
"The manga is two-dimensional — you have to imagine it yourself. But the live-action makes everything come alive! The Owner, the customers, the food — I feel like they're living right beside me!"
"Exactly! Especially the Owner! Mr. Mizukami Sho's performance is extraordinary! He's not acting — he IS the Owner, in flesh and blood!"
"And the supporting cast! Minamino-senpai and the others — they've brought those characters to life! I feel like they're the most ordinary, most real people living all around us!"
"Most importantly, this drama isn't just moving — it carries profound social significance! For us modern urbanites, exhausted from battling through this concrete jungle — it gives us a spiritual sanctuary where we can rest our souls!"
The screening room buzzed with passionate discussion.
Everyone was babbling with excitement, falling over each other to express their love for the drama, their admiration for Nohara Hiroshi, and their boundless hopes for the show's future.
Nohara Hiroshi sat quietly through all of it, a faint smile on his face.
None of this surprised him.
In his previous life, the live-action Midnight Diner had been one of those rare exceptions that actually surpassed its manga source material. It had used the most genuine emotions, the most humble camerawork, and the warmest stories to heal countless lonely souls.
And now, his mission was to bring that same healing to this world — a world equally in need of warmth.
"That kid is an absolute monster." Asumi muttered to Takada Toshihide beside him, watching the young man maintain perfect calm amid a tidal wave of praise.
"Indeed." Takada Toshihide nodded, genuine admiration finally breaking through his habitually stern facade. "I'd assumed manga-to-live-action adaptation would be his weakest domain. But he's done it magnificently. I actually think he understands how to move human hearts better than all of us old hands who've spent half our lives in the Production Bureau."
"Hiroshi, you've really given us another jaw-dropping surprise!" Asumi turned to face Nohara Hiroshi, irrepressible joy blazing in his eyes.
"It's an adaptation of my own manga. How could I possibly not do it well?" Nohara Hiroshi replied with a modest smile and a casual shrug.
That breezy confidence drew knowing smiles from everyone present.
"Well, since we're all in agreement — let's discuss the broadcast schedule." Takeshita Ai smiled, looking at Nohara Hiroshi with trust and admiration.
"Discuss? What's there to discuss?" Asumi slapped his thigh with commanding authority. "Sub-prime time! Friday night, nine o'clock slot! That's the perfect time for office workers who've just survived another grueling week and need something warm and healing!"
"I agree!" Takada Toshihide nodded, strategic acumen shining in his deep-set eyes. "And we need to go head-to-head with Tokyo City TV's Minamijima Afu and His Beloved Dog! I want those people to learn what 'heartwarming and healing' really means!"
"Exactly! That's the plan!"
"Let them see the power of TV Tokyo!"
"Let them learn who truly reigns over Greater Tokyo!"
The screening room erupted with passionate declarations.
Everyone knew a new war was about to begin.
A war of ratings, of glory, and of factional pride.
And they would be both soldiers and witnesses to its final outcome!
Meanwhile, Nohara Hiroshi leaned back in his chair, watching everyone debate Midnight Diner with such fervor, his smile growing wider by the second.
For everyone else, this was a war.
But for Nohara Hiroshi, this was simply another chapter where fame and fortune would both come knocking.
'After all, TV Tokyo is paying me five million yen per episode for the manga adaptation rights, plus my own production and direction fees. Just thinking about it feels wonderful.'
Nohara Hiroshi licked his lips. Thinking about his ever-growing savings and the ever-expanding landholdings back home in Omagari City, he felt thoroughly at ease. 'Now then — bring on the economic crisis! The harder it hits, the better!'
He wasn't afraid. Not one bit.