novelraw Chapter 215: Kumamon! A Promotional Idea from Nohara Hiroshi! The Land of Fire's Marketing Strategy!
Chapter 215: Kumamon! A Promotional Idea from Nohara Hiroshi! The Land of Fire's Marketing Strategy!
The instant Fujiwara Isshin's words landed, the warmth that food and drink had just coaxed into the private room was thrust into an icehouse. Even Kumamoto City's neon lights beyond the glass seemed to cool several degrees.
Everyone's chopsticks froze midair. Even their breathing instinctively softened.
After all, this was a topic about prefectural governors and mayoral elections — what place did ordinary citizens like them have meddling in such things?
But precisely because Fujiwara Isshin was a civil servant at the Prefectural Office — and his father was a veteran local assemblyman deeply rooted in Kumamoto...
And Nohara Hiroshi was a director of soaring fame...
That made it different entirely.
Takasae still clutched her hand-wiping towel — she'd been about to pour Hiroshi more sake, but her hand froze mid-reach, eyes full of shock. Governor Koike — the sovereign of Tokyo Metropolis, a face on television every single day — how could someone like that possibly be mixed up with her son-in-law in something as enormous as an election?
Musae's eyes went wide, mouth slightly open. Her earlier excitement about not being able to buy an Akita Inu had been completely obliterated by this sudden question.
She looked at Fujiwara, then at Nohara Hiroshi — her brain a tangled mess, utterly failing to process how these two things could be connected.
The first to recover was Koyama Yoshiharu.This former Head Teacher — a lifetime spent with textbooks and students — excelled precisely at extracting key points from the faintest clues.
He set down his sake cup. Rough fingers stroked his chin as his brow slowly furrowed, then gradually smoothed. First came confusion — then a flash of sudden understanding.
"Oh... OH!" He sounded as though something had suddenly clicked — voice tinged with uncertainty yet unable to suppress its excitement. "Now that you mention it, I DO have a vague memory! On the morning news last time, they mentioned briefly that when Hachiko Monogatari premiered, Governor Koike specifically went to the theater to see it — and publicly praised the film, saying it 'preserved the warmth of the Japanese people.'"
He paused, tapping the table with his finger, forcing himself to recall the details. "Later... later there were also reports that when Governor Koike visited Akita Prefecture for an inspection, he made a special trip to Hachiko's homeland and even posed for photos with the local dog association. At the time I told Takasae — this governor's quite approachable, paying attention to cultural minutiae like this — but now that I think about it..."
He trailed off, but the meaning in his eyes couldn't be clearer: Hiroshi's hand was probably in this somewhere.
"Yes, yes, YES!" Musae — jolted awake by Yoshiharu's words — slammed the table so hard the miso soup bowl in front of her nearly rattled off. "I REMEMBER! The newspaper even ran a photo! Governor Koike standing in front of the Hachiko statue — and next to him were people from TV Tokyo! I didn't pay attention at the time, but now I realize — brother-in-law was right in the middle of Hachiko's publicity campaign then, wasn't he?"
She grew more and more excited, her speech accelerating: "And AND! A little while ago at school we were discussing the citizen satisfaction survey — the teacher said Governor Koike's approval ratings were climbing really fast, over ten percentage points higher than the same period last year! People were saying it was connected to the 'warmth wave' that Hachiko kicked off — that citizens felt the governor cared about culture with heart, that he was a good official who understood people's lives! So... so brother-in-law was really involved in all that?"
Musae stared at Nohara Hiroshi with glittering eyes. The worship in her gaze had multiplied several layers beyond the manga and film discussions.
After all — collaborating with the metropolitan governor? That wasn't something just anyone could pull off!
Every eye in the room landed squarely on Nohara Hiroshi.
Curious. Expectant. And tinged with "can this really be true?" nervousness.
Even the perpetually composed Fujiwara Isshin leaned forward slightly, waiting for his answer.
Nohara Hiroshi, however, remained extraordinarily calm.
He picked up the teapot, topped off Yoshiharu's and Fujiwara's cups — movements unhurried, completely at ease.
The warm tea swirled in the porcelain cups, sending tiny ripples across the surface — much like his expression: utterly unperturbed.
"It's true. There was such an occasion." He set the teapot down, lifted his own cup, took a gentle sip, then began slowly.
His voice was quiet, yet carried a reassuring certainty: "When Governor Koike approached me, it happened to coincide with his preparations for a re-election campaign. His team told me that citizens felt too much 'distance' from politicians — that many policies were just sloganeering with no real follow-through. They wanted an angle that could bridge the gap with ordinary people. They happened to see the Hachiko script and felt the themes of 'devotion' and 'warmth' aligned perfectly with the message they wanted to convey."
He paused, tapping the cup's rim lightly. "Honestly, I hadn't planned to get involved in politics. I'm a director — making good work is my duty. But when the governor's people talked to me, they said something I thought was quite reasonable. They said: a good cultural work inherently has the power to influence society. If that power can help people feel a little warmth — make them feel there's still something in this city worth protecting — that's not a bad thing."
"I thought it over. Hachiko's story inherently connects two regions — Akita and Tokyo. Hachiko was an Akita Inu who waited for his master in Tokyo for ten years. That was the perfect hook to link both regions' specialties and culture. It would promote the film, help boost Akita Prefecture's tourism, AND make Governor Koike's image more down-to-earth. Three birds with one stone — so I agreed."
He spoke as casually as describing the most routine work. But everyone present understood perfectly.
"Routine"? This was anything but. This was masterfully weaving culture, economics, and politics into a single rope — with a steady hand on every strand.
Yoshiharu nodded repeatedly, muttering nonstop: "Good — that's excellent! You stayed true to your craft while making a real impact. THAT'S real skill!"
The way he looked at Hiroshi had evolved from "satisfactory son-in-law" to genuine, wholehearted "admiration."
Fujiwara Isshin, however, showed no surprise — as though he'd anticipated this answer. A knowing smile curved his lips.
He set down his teacup, fingers drawing slow circles on the table, voice touched with emotion: "I knew it. Last month at a prefectural meeting, I spoke with colleagues from the Tokyo Metropolitan Government about this. They said Governor Koike's core re-election strategy was 'culture as accessibility' — and Hachiko Monogatari was the most critical move in that strategy."
He looked at Nohara Hiroshi, eyes gaining gravity: "People inside the Metropolitan Government all say that Governor Koike's approval ratings this term — rising from barely passing to nearly eighty percent — at least thirty percent of that credit belongs to you, Nohara-san. After all, turning a single film into a bridge connecting politicians and citizens — that kind of ability can't be found anywhere else in all of Japan."
"Thirty percent?" Takasae gasped sharply, her hand-towel nearly falling to the floor. "That's... that's incredible!"
Musae's eyes went round as saucers: "Brother-in-law, you're practically better than actual political consultants!"
But Nohara Hiroshi waved it off, not a trace of smugness on his face: "Everyone's giving me too much credit. Mostly it's because Governor Koike's policies themselves were solid. I just helped find a way that was easier for ordinary people to connect with. If the policies themselves were no good, no amount of beautiful filmmaking would help."
Yoshiharu nodded vigorously at this: "Exactly right! That's how a man should be — never claiming glory for himself. Hiroshi's temperament — so different from those young people who get full of themselves at the first taste of success."
Fujiwara Isshin watched Nohara Hiroshi's unruffled composure, his appreciation deepening further. He knew: staying clear-headed at such moments, neither claiming credit nor overreaching — that was the mark of true capability.
He smiled, pivoting to a new topic: "Speaking of which, Nohara-san — since you've collaborated with Governor Koike, you must also be following the Tokyo City election?"
"The Tokyo City election?" Yoshiharu blinked. "You mean... Mayor Tanaka and your station president's — Shimazu's — campaign?"
"Exactly." Fujiwara nodded, his tone gaining weight. "Right now, the entire Tokyo political world is watching this election. Mayor Tanaka Mikami has served two consecutive terms with deep roots — and he has considerable zaibatsu backing. Station President Shimazu has a decent reputation from his TV days, but he's crossing into politics for the first time. It won't be easy."
He looked at Nohara Hiroshi, eyes probing: "I've heard from Tokyo friends that this election is churning with undercurrents. Mayor Tanaka's side has already started media campaigns saying Shimazu 'doesn't understand city governance, only entertainment.' Meanwhile, Shimazu's camp hasn't found a real breakthrough point yet. You, Nohara-san — as someone from TV Tokyo, personally mentored by President Shimazu — surely you won't just stand by and watch?"
The room's atmosphere shifted again.
If the earlier discussion about Governor Koike had been about "collaboration," talking about the Tokyo City election was now directly tied to their own station president's future.
The entire Koyama family watched Nohara Hiroshi with bated breath.
Political struggles at this level were things they wouldn't dare even contemplate — let alone the possibility of their own son-in-law being dragged in.
Nohara Hiroshi remained calm as ever.
He picked up his chopsticks, lifted a piece of ōtoro, and chewed slowly — as if savoring the fish's freshness, or perhaps considering his response.
After a moment, he swallowed, dabbed his mouth with a napkin, and let a faint smile surface: "You're certainly well-informed, Fujiwara-san."
A beat of pause, then: "President Shimazu did approach me. He told me this campaign isn't about personal vanity — he wants to test whether the TV station's approach to 'connecting' can be applied to city governance. For example: how to make it easier for citizens to voice opinions, how to strengthen connections between neighborhoods. Those ideas actually overlap with the original motivation behind Kasou Taishou."
"Then you..." Misae couldn't help speaking up, worry threading her voice. "How do you plan to help him? Won't it be dangerous? I hear political battles are very complicated."
Nohara Hiroshi glanced at Misae, eyes softening further: "Relax. I'm not going to do anything reckless. I'm a director — what I can do is still my core skill."
He looked at Fujiwara Isshin, tone resolute: "Shimazu's campaign team has been talking with me about producing a documentary series on 'Tokyo Citizens' Lives.' No slogans, no propaganda — just filming everyday people. Morning commuters crammed into trains, convenience-store clerks on street corners, community volunteers caring for elderly neighbors, young people feeling a bit lost in the bubble economy but still trying their best to live."
"Through these films, I want to show people that what Shimazu cares about isn't some vague notion of 'achievement metrics' — but real human beings. Just like making Midnight Diner — using the most authentic life to move hearts."
He smiled, a note of confidence in his voice: "As to Mayor Tanaka saying 'all he knows is entertainment' — that's fine. Turning 'entertainment' into a tool that connects human hearts IS a skill in itself. Besides, what citizens truly want isn't impressive-sounding slogans — it's tangible warmth they can actually feel. And that much, I'm confident I can deliver."
Fujiwara Isshin's eyes lit up.
He raised his sake cup toward Nohara Hiroshi: "Well said — 'using life to move hearts'! A toast to you, Nohara-san. If Shimazu can really break through with this approach, this election might hold genuine surprises."
Nohara Hiroshi raised his own cup and clinked: "Just doing my best."
Two cups of sake drained, and the tension finally dissipated — the room's earlier warmth returning.
Yoshiharu began chatting with Fujiwara about Kumamoto's local customs, saying he'd take them to see Mount Aso next time. Takasae pulled Misae and Musae into family gossip — insisting that when Hiroshi and Misae married, they must have a proper wedding. Musae pestered Nohara Hiroshi about whether he could take her to TV Tokyo's studios next time, to see the Tales of the Unusual filming set.
Nohara Hiroshi agreed to everything, occasionally adding a word, face wearing its gentle smile.
Misae sat beside him, watching him blend so naturally with her family, and her heart glowed.
She knew she'd chosen right.
This man had not only talent and responsibility — more importantly, in his steadiest manner, he handled everything just right.
Yoshiharu and Fujiwara, deep in conversation, didn't notice how much they'd drunk.
Riding the sake's courage, Yoshiharu took Takasae's hand, leaned close, and murmured: "Look at these two young men — Isshin so steady, Hiroshi so thoughtful, both genuinely capable people. Our Masae and Misae finding partners like these — what incredible fortune."
Takasae nodded with a smile, eyes full of contentment: "Yes — I used to worry about the children's marriages. Now it seems I overthought everything. These two young men aren't just good to our girls — they're so accomplished. Our family's future is only going to get brighter."
"Naturally!" Yoshiharu thumped his chest, face radiant with pride. "Look at Hiroshi — so young, already a department manager at the station, working alongside governors and presidents. Limitless potential! And Isshin at the Ministry of Finance — a brilliant young talent, certain to rise. Our two sons-in-law — they've given our family more than enough face!"
Takasae laughed at his words: "You — always about face. I think, as long as the children are happy, nothing else matters."
"Of course, of course." Yoshiharu nodded rapidly, then couldn't help glancing at Nohara Hiroshi chatting with Musae nearby — the satisfaction in his eyes practically overflowing.
Across the room, the three Koyama sisters — Masae, Misae, and Musae — were deep in animated conversation.
Masae shared funny school stories with Misae. Misae told Masae about things at Future Comic Club. Musae interjected with wisecracks, declaring that once her sisters married, they'd BETTER give her big red envelopes — and that she planned to move to Tokyo to live with Misae, and maybe land an internship at brother-in-law's TV station while she was at it.
"You — always looking for freebies." Misae laughed, poking Musae's forehead. "You want an internship? Fine, but finish your high school courses first. Bad grades, and even brother-in-law can't pull strings for you."
"I KNOW!" Musae pouted, then immediately brightened. "I'll DEFINITELY study hard! Once I get into a Tokyo university, I can be with Nee-san and brother-in-law every day!"
Masae watched her two younger sisters' playful antics and broke into a tender smile.
She turned her gaze to Nohara Hiroshi, currently talking with Fujiwara Isshin nearby, and felt deeply content. Misae finding someone so capable yet so caring — as an older sister, she was at ease.
The private room's light was warm. Outside, the night deepened — Kumamoto City's lights scattered like crushed diamonds on black velvet.
Dishes on the table still steamed. Sake's fragrance mingled with the food's aroma, drifting through the air.
Nohara Hiroshi looked at this scene of perfect harmony and felt warmth inside.
Since transmigrating to this world, he'd risen step by step from an ordinary salaryman — building his career, gaining Misae, and now this family that genuinely cared for him.
He knew the road ahead would hold many challenges.
The Tokyo City election. Internal station politics. The looming bubble economy crisis.
But he wasn't afraid.
Because he knew he wasn't walking alone.
Misae's support was beside him. The Koyama family's trust. And the colleagues in his production department who fought alongside him.
As long as he held true to his original purpose and did what needed doing — no obstacle was insurmountable.
...
The private room's warm glow wrapped around sake's gentle buzz until even the air turned thick and languid.
Yoshiharu was clapping Nohara Hiroshi's shoulder, rhapsodizing about Mount Aso's morning mist. Musae pestered Misae about whether Tokyo Disneyland's carousel was really bigger than Kumamoto's amusement park rides. The atmosphere was pure harmony.
Then Fujiwara Isshin seemed to remember something. Sake cup in hand, he approached.
"Nohara-san, could I have a word?" His voice was lower than during the election discussion.
Nohara Hiroshi raised an eyebrow. As he set his chopsticks down, his fingertips brushed the tablecloth — he'd long since noticed this Ministry of Finance man harboring something. Earlier, when they'd discussed Akita Prefecture thriving because of Hachiko, Fujiwara's finger had been tracing circles on his cup's rim — that telltale fidget of a mind calculating.
"Of course." Nohara Hiroshi stood, casually tucking a stray lock of Misae's hair behind her ear, softening his voice: "You all keep eating. Fujiwara-san and I will step out for some air."
Misae blinked, her braid swaying with a nod: "Don't talk too long — there's matsutake soup coming!"
The two walked to the corridor outside. The hallway lamps cast warm amber, lighting the carpet like scattered gold dust.
Fujiwara spoke first, voice carrying a touch of embarrassment yet unable to hide his anticipation: "Nohara-san — when everyone was saying just now how Hachiko put Akita Prefecture on the map, I... I've actually been wanting to bring this up."
He paused, pulling a crumpled notebook from his pocket. Flipping it open revealed pages dense with writing — the top line reading "Kumamoto Prefecture Promotional Plan," with an X drawn beside it.
"My primary role at the Prefectural Finance Ministry is fiscal work, but I also shoulder responsibility for regional revitalization. Kumamoto's had a terrible few years — Mount Aso keeps erupting, scaring off tourists;
our specialties are just horse meat and mandarin oranges, no match for Akita's rice or Hokkaido's crab;
young people all flee to Tokyo — the prefecture's already closed several elementary schools."
As he spoke, his voice dropped further, fingers tapping lightly on the notebook. "I've raised the promotional issue several times with my senior colleagues. They either say 'no budget' or 'the old ways work fine' — but if the old ways worked, Kumamoto wouldn't be in this state. Nohara-san, you're so gifted at 'connecting' — could you possibly think of a promotional approach for Kumamoto? Even... even just a general direction would help."
As he said this, his head dipped slightly — that usual elite civil servant composure fading, replaced by something more like a student seeking a teacher's guidance.
Nohara Hiroshi looked at the notebook — its pages worn fuzzy at the edges — and knew this future brother-in-law truly carried his hometown's welfare at heart.
Just then, the door clicked open. Yoshiharu poked his head out — trailed by Takasae and Misae, with Musae squeezing in at the back, eyes bright.
Turns out, the moment the two left, Yoshiharu had been eavesdropping. At "Kumamoto promotional," he'd immediately rallied the family to follow.
"Isshin my boy, why wouldn't you say this in front of everyone?" Yoshiharu walked over, clapping Fujiwara's shoulder — tone half-scolding, half-expectant. "Hiroshi, you MUST help! Kumamoto's our hometown. Watching it struggle like this — it weighs on all of us."
Takasae nodded along, still holding a wagashi she'd grabbed from the room: "That's right, Hiroshi. Last time I visited my family, the old granny next door said her granddaughter works in Tokyo and is afraid to come home for New Year — scared her classmates will mock her as 'the girl from the volcano.' If you could make Kumamoto better, our whole family would be grateful."
Misae tugged Hiroshi's sleeve, whispering: "When I was little, I buried a prayer charm at Kumamoto's shrine. I wrote: 'I hope my hometown becomes famous.' Hiroshi, if you have an idea, please help them."
Musae squeezed in on tiptoes: "Yeah, brother-in-law! If Kumamoto gets famous, I won't JUST be 'the girl from the volcano place' when I tell classmates where I'm from!"
The whole group surrounded Nohara Hiroshi, talking over each other. The corridor light fell on their faces — every one brimming with hope.
Nohara Hiroshi rubbed his chin, fingertips catching a bit of stubble, mouth hinting at a smile.
Truth was, from the moment Fujiwara brought up Kumamoto, a vague idea had been forming. Now, with everyone pushing, it crystallized.
He smiled, leaned back against the corridor railing, and spoke with certainty: "If we're talking about promoting Kumamoto, I actually DO have an idea."
"Really?" Fujiwara's head snapped up, eyes blazing like stars. His notebook nearly tumbled to the floor: "Nohara-san, tell us! What's the idea? Make a movie? A variety show?"
Yoshiharu crowded forward, ears practically standing on end: "Right, Hiroshi! Something like Hachiko — a Kumamoto story? We've got TONS of great old tales — Sengoku-era samurai, for instance..."
Nohara Hiroshi shook his head, cutting Yoshiharu off: "Not a movie. Not a variety show." He paused, taking in their curious faces, and said slowly: "If we're going to do this, it has to be something EVERYONE will remember. Let's start with Kumamoto's foundation. Everyone knows Kumamoto used to be called 'The Land of Fire' — because of Mount Aso. And because the ancient domain lords had an affinity for bears, bear statues are everywhere — even the prefectural emblem has bear elements. Right?"
Takasae nodded: "That's right! When I was little, I used to rub the nose of the bear statue at the shrine with Misae and the others — they say it brings good luck!"
"Exactly." Nohara Hiroshi's finger traced patterns on the railing. "Akita has the Akita Inu. Hokkaido has polar bears. But what does Kumamoto have that people remember at a glance? The volcano is too dangerous. Horse meat isn't for everyone. Oranges are too common. So instead... let's start with the 'bear' — and design a cute mascot character as an ambassador."
"A cute mascot ambassador?" The words left everyone stunned.
Yoshiharu opened his mouth — nothing came out for a long moment. His sake cup wobbled in his hand. Takasae nearly dropped her wagashi.
Misae blinked, repeating softly: "A mascot? You mean... like a cartoon character?"
Musae's eyes went perfectly round: "Brother-in-law, you mean... create a cartoon bear? But would a cartoon character actually work? Would people like it?"
Only Fujiwara Isshin showed no bewilderment. He furrowed his brow, thought for a moment, then his eyes suddenly lit up and his notebook snapped shut: "I've got it! Nohara-san, you're borrowing from America? When I visited for a study tour, I saw Hollywood turning movie characters into merchandise figures, and every NBA team has its own mascot — like the LA Lakers' bear, kids love it."
His excitement built as his fingers gestured through the air: "And Disney's cartoon characters — aren't they using cute designs to make the whole world know Disney? You want Kumamoto's mascot ambassador to work the same way — using 'cuteness' to capture everyone's attention?"
Nohara Hiroshi nodded, voice carrying a note of approval: "Fujiwara-san is exactly right. Today's young people and children love cute things. Kumamoto's old image is too 'heavy' — either the volcano's danger or old-samurai severity. But with a cute mascot, you can replace those old impressions. When people see the character, they'll think of Kumamoto. Think of Kumamoto's good qualities. And gradually want to visit as tourists, want to buy Kumamoto's specialties."
Fujiwara leaned forward another step, voice urgent: "Nohara-san, tell me more! What exactly should this character look like? An animated character? A plushie? Should we create a backstory?"
Yoshiharu caught on too, slapping his thigh: "Right, Hiroshi! What should this bear look like? Should it wear a hat? Clothes?"
Nohara Hiroshi, seeing everyone's eagerness, smiled and spoke leisurely: "Let's call it 'Kumamon.' Simple, memorable, and you know it's Kumamoto's the moment you hear it. As for appearance — chubby, round, that's how you make it cute. Black body, white belly and face, round eyes, big nose, and ideally rosy cheeks — so it looks a bit dopey. The kind of thing that makes you smile the instant you see it."
He paused, then added: "And give it small flaws. A bit clumsy. Always tripping. Forgetful. That makes it feel real and endearing. Like, it goes to an event but gets lost. Or it tries to hand out flyers and drops them all. Those little moments make people feel it's not some cold logo — it's a living 'friend.'"
"And then?" Misae clutched Hiroshi's sleeve, eyes full of hope. "Just having the character isn't enough, right? People need to know about it."
"Of course." Nohara Hiroshi nodded. "Step one: finalize Kumamon's design. Make posters, plushies, keychains — put them in Kumamoto's train stations, shrines, shops. Let locals get familiar first. Step two: partner with a TV station to produce short animations — just a few minutes each — about Kumamon's daily life in Kumamoto. Going for a walk below Mount Aso. Eating horse-meat sashimi. Helping farmers pick oranges. This showcases Kumamoto's scenery and specialties while deepening Kumamon's presence in people's hearts."
He turned to Fujiwara, tone serious: "Step three — the most important. Get Kumamon 'out there.' To Tokyo, Osaka — big-city events. Taking photos with passersby at subway stations. Visiting schools to play with children. Even attending events in other prefectures. Let everyone learn that 'Kumamoto has a Kumamon.' Partner with businesses too — print Kumamon on snack packaging, put its design on clothing. Before you know it, Kumamon will have walked into everyone's daily lives."
"Most importantly," Nohara Hiroshi paused, eyes gaining depth, "give Kumamon 'warmth.' If tourists visit Kumamoto and run into trouble, Kumamon can step in to help. If the prefecture holds a charity event, Kumamon takes the lead. That way, whenever people see Kumamon, they'll think of Kumamoto's hospitality, Kumamoto's goodness — and gradually develop real affection. Compared to stiff, heavy-handed promotion, this 'moistening things silently' approach is far more effective."
When Nohara Hiroshi finished, the corridor fell quiet for a long moment. Everyone stared at him — eyes full of amazement and excitement.
Yoshiharu had long since set down his sake cup. Mouth agape, he spent ages unable to form words. Finally, he managed a murmur: "Hiroshi... this idea of yours is just too incredible! How did I never realize a bear character could do so much?"
Takasae dabbed at her eyes, voice catching: "If this actually works... Kumamoto would be saved. My family's fruit farmers would never have to worry about unsold oranges again."
Misae held Nohara Hiroshi's hand, eyes shining: "Hiroshi, you're amazing! I can already picture what Kumamon looks like — it must be SO cute!"
Musae actually jumped, grabbing Fujiwara's arm: "Brother-in-law! When do we start? I want to be the FIRST person to buy a Kumamon plushie!"
Only Fujiwara Isshin was silent. Brow furrowed, he'd flipped his notebook open again and was writing furiously — pen scratching rapidly across paper.
After a moment, he looked up — eyes blazing with light — voice actually trembling: "Nohara-san, this idea of yours... is BRILLIANT!"
He gripped Nohara Hiroshi's arm with visible excitement: "All my previous promotional plans — documentaries, trade fairs — were too old-fashioned. Nobody wanted to watch. But your Kumamon captures Kumamoto's unique identity AND matches modern sensibilities — young people will love its cuteness, children will treat it as a friend, even elderly people will find it charming. With this, Kumamoto's entire image transforms — from 'that dangerous volcano place' to 'the place with adorable Kumamon.' People will WANT to come!"
His excitement mounted — he was practically crushing his notebook: "I'm going to the Prefectural Office TOMORROW to submit this plan! Even if the senior officials resist at first, I WILL convince them! Nohara-san, trust me — I will make Kumamon catch fire. I'll make EVERYONE know Kumamoto!"
Nohara Hiroshi watched his fervor and smiled: "Don't rush. The plan needs refinement — Kumamon's exact design, the animation content, the activity schedule — all need careful thought. Plus we'll need partnerships with local businesses and TV stations. These things take time."
"I know!" Fujiwara nodded emphatically, voice brimming with drive. "I'll take it step by step — no cutting corners. Nohara-san, thank you so much for this. Without you, I'd probably still be stewing over those old plans."
Yoshiharu came over too, patting Nohara Hiroshi's shoulder, voice thick with gratitude: "Hiroshi — you're not just our family's son-in-law, you're Kumamoto's benefactor! Next time you come back, I'm taking you to the BEST izakaya and letting you drink your fill!"
Takasae chimed in: "That's right, Hiroshi! And if Misae ever gives you trouble, tell me — I'll set her straight!"
Misae flushed: "Mom, I would NEVER give Hiroshi trouble!"
Everyone laughed. The corridor's atmosphere turned warm again.
Musae pulled Fujiwara into a debate about whether Kumamon should wear a scarf. Yoshiharu and Takasae discussed whether to find a woodcarver to make a Kumamon statue for the house. Nohara Hiroshi watched this joyful scene, warmth filling his heart.
He knew Kumamon's success was far from certain — the Prefectural Office still needed to approve it, and countless uncertainties lay ahead.
But at least now, everyone could see hope. Everyone had purpose. And that hope and purpose — perhaps that was the first step toward making Kumamoto better.
Just then, a waiter peeked out from the room and said respectfully: "Excuse me — the matsutake soup is ready. Shall I serve it?"
"YES! Of course!" Yoshiharu declared immediately, ushering everyone inside. "We'll eat and talk — let's really hash out this Kumamon business!"
The group filed back in, matsutake soup's fragrance rushing to greet them.
Nohara Hiroshi sat beside Misae, watching her sip soup in small spoonfuls, happiness written all over her face.
He suddenly felt that everything he'd done — whether making films or designing Kumamon — was ultimately for this simple happiness: making the people around him smile, showing more people life's beauty.
Fujiwara drank his soup while scribbling in his notebook, occasionally looking up to discuss a point with Nohara Hiroshi, eyes blazing with purpose. Yoshiharu and Takasae talked about Kumamoto's future, faces bright with anticipation. Musae sat drawing Kumamon's likeness in the margin — crooked and wobbly, but utterly earnest.
Outside, the night deepened further. Kumamoto City's lights were scattered diamonds on black velvet — blinking softly.
The private room's warm glow wrapped around food's aroma and everyone's laughter, composing a scene of perfect warmth. Nohara Hiroshi took it all in, and a new thought formed.
Perhaps someday, Kumamon would do more than make Kumamoto famous. It would become a bond connecting even more people — just like Kasou Taishou — bringing them closer through one adorable character.
He picked up his chopsticks, placed a piece of matsutake in Misae's bowl, and said softly: "Eat more. Keep your strength up."
Misae looked up with a crescent-moon smile: "You too, Hiroshi."
Nohara Hiroshi nodded. He looked at the matsutake in his bowl, then at the people around him, and felt thoroughly grounded. The road ahead was long, with much still to do — but as long as these people were beside him, as long as this love for life remained — nothing could stop him.
And perhaps, in some corner of Kumamoto, someone was already looking forward to that adorable character called "Kumamon" — bringing an entirely new future to this city.