novelraw Chapter 217: The Cute Mascot Concept! The Warm Koyama Family! A New Day Begins!
Chapter 217: The Cute Mascot Concept! The Warm Koyama Family! A New Day Begins!
Just as Fujiwara Isshin was discussing Kumamon's promotional details with Yamada Ichiro, and how to push forward this cute mascot concept going forward —
At the Koyama residence in Kumamoto City.
Nohara Hiroshi had just set down his brush, gently rotating his sore arms and shoulders, laughing as he answered the call from downstairs — Koyama Musae's voice.
"I know, I know — I'll be right down for dinner."
"Then hurry UP! Dad bought a ton of fresh vegetables and beef today — we're having the most delicious sukiyaki!!!" Musae's crisp voice was like a chattering sparrow, instantly lifting one's mood.
"Hiroshi, don't dawdle like you do at home!" Misae's familiar voice also drifted up from below.
"Yes, yes, yes! Coming, coming!" Hiroshi pushed open the door of his designated art studio and descended the narrow wooden staircase into the tatami room.
Musae was pacing around the table like a little kitten, porcelain bowl and chopsticks in hand, circling the ingredient-laden low table on the tatami. Desire for the feast was written all over her pretty face — prompting her mother Takasae, who was approaching with eggs in hand, to scold: "Musae! A lady should be composed!"
After all, Nohara Hiroshi — future son-in-law — was right there.
"Oh come ON! Brother-in-law isn't an outsider!" Musae immediately snatched an egg from Takasae's hands, cracked it into her own bowl, and whipped her chopsticks into a rapid stir. Her pouty pink lips showed displeasure: "Besides, Hiroshi-nii-san is SO nice to me!""Even so — be composed!" This time it was father Koyama Yoshiharu, emerging from his precious storage room bearing a bottle of Juyondai Ryuusen sake, face stern.
As for his youngest, most spoiled — spoiled beyond all limits — daughter, he was quite helpless.
All he could do was feign severity: "A young lady MUST be composed! Otherwise, when you marry into a proper family, if they have strict rules, you'll suffer for it!"
But this failed to produce even a flicker of timidity in Musae. She pouted: "This isn't the old days! What right does male chauvinism have to constrain us new-generation women?"
"You...!!!" Yoshiharu was instantly incensed.
He was an absolute holdout of the old school.
Conservative among conservatives. Head Teacher among Head Teachers.
"Utterly lawless! The moral decay! Everything's wrong with the world!" He slammed the sake bottle onto the table, his habitually severe face growing even more severe.
But Takasae and Misae simply regarded this as his helpless response to being unable to handle his youngest sister.
They exchanged a smile, quietly arranging the dishes while chuckling softly.
Just then, Hiroshi came downstairs.
"Oh! Hiroshi, come here! Come here!" Yoshiharu spotted his savior and immediately beckoned him over, launching into a litany of complaints.
"Huh?" Hiroshi sat down in a daze, listening to his future father-in-law's grievances, instinctively glancing at Musae beside him — her face slightly flushed.
"Ahem!" Musae coughed twice, the blush climbing from her cheeks to the tips of her ears: "Brother-in-law! What are you looking at ME for?!"
"..." Hiroshi was speechless.
Were the complaints his future father-in-law was airing truly NOT about the pretty little sister-in-law sitting right there?
He couldn't be sure.
But thinking about it, he understood. In this current era — as the bubble economy was being punctured —
Men were losing their families, losing their money, even losing their jobs.
The lucky ones became homeless, sleeping on the streets.
The less fortunate — those who couldn't accept reality — would find a nice tall building, or venture deep into the forests, and perform Japan's most famous trick: "spiriting away."
Such things were commonplace in bubble-burst Japan.
But Musae couldn't care less about any of that.
She sidled up clutching her white porcelain bowl, a golden raw egg cracked inside, chopsticks whipping it with a splash.
A drop of egg clung to her nose, utterly unnoticed, as her eyes locked onto the neatly arranged ingredients on the table — looking exactly like a hungry kitten waiting for dinner.
"Brother-in-law, LOOK! Today's wagyu was specifically bought by Dad from that 'Black-Haired Wagyu Specialty Shop' in front of the station — see this marbling? Beautiful!" She poked the red-and-white marbled beef with her chopsticks, voice brimming with pride: "And this garland chrysanthemum — Mom picked it at the morning market. So tender you could squeeze water from it!"
Takasae was arranging washed shiitake mushrooms in a bamboo basket. Hearing this, she laughed and lightly smacked Musae's hand: "You and your appetite — Hiroshi's barely sat down and you're already rushing him." She turned to Nohara Hiroshi, eyes warm with affection: "Hiroshi dear, drawing manga must have worn you out? I can see the dark circles under your eyes. Eat plenty of beef today — I simmered the sukiyaki broth for two hours. It's wonderfully rich."
Just as Hiroshi was about to thank her, the front entrance rattled open and Masae's voice came through — touched with end-of-workday fatigue, yet still gentle: "Mom, I'm home."
"Oh, Masae's back!" Takasae immediately rose to greet her, taking the briefcase and feeling her daughter's forehead: "You didn't get cold staying late? It's quite windy outside."
Masae shook her head with a smile, hanging her coat on the entryway hook: "No, I wore that thick sweater you knitted. Very warm."
She entered the living room and greeted everyone in turn.
Truly a model of grace and virtue.
"Big Sis is back!" Musae waved her chopsticks, then immediately turned back to the sukiyaki, stamping her feet impatiently: "Sit, SIT! If we wait any longer, the beef will be cold!"
Yoshiharu had just unscrewed the Juyondai cap. When Musae caught the aroma, she grew even more frantic, reaching for the beef in the pot.
But before her chopsticks could touch the meat, Yoshiharu's chopsticks came down on her hand with a sharp "crack."
"What's the rush!" He glared, voice carrying a scolding edge: "Nobody's even seated yet — how can you start eating first? Have you forgotten ALL the manners I taught you?"
Musae retracted her hand, lip quivering, eyes reddening with injured pride: "I know, okay... Dad's always so strict."
At this, soft laughter rippled through the living room.
Takasae shook her head helplessly, handing Masae a pair of chopsticks: "That's just your father — all his old rules. Come, sit down. Once everyone's seated, we eat."
Masae sat beside Musae, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her little sister's ear, whispering comfort: "Dad means well. A lady who minds her manners is never wrong."
Musae huffed but offered no further resistance — though her eyes remained riveted to the beef in the pot. That hungry look made even Nohara Hiroshi laugh.
When everyone was finally seated, Yoshiharu gave a nod: "All right. Dig in."
The instant the words left his mouth, Musae's chopsticks flew like an arrow loosed from a bow — snatching up a massive chunk of beef coated in beaten egg and shoving it in.
Scalding beef wrapped in silky egg burst with juice in her mouth, wonderfully savory, making her eyes squeeze shut in bliss: "Mmm — DELICIOUS! Mom's sukiyaki is definitely the best in all of Kumamoto!"
Takasae beamed at the praise, placing beef slices on both Hiroshi's and Masae's plates: "If you like it, eat more — there's plenty in the pot. Hiroshi, don't be shy — treat this place as your own home."
Hiroshi picked up a piece of beef, blew on it, and tasted it.
The wagyu's fat had been rendered soft in the pot, and with the raw egg coating, the texture was as silky as pudding — beefy aroma blending with the sweet soy glaze, plus garland chrysanthemum and shiitake's woodland freshness. Genuinely eye-opening.
He nodded involuntarily: "Your cooking is wonderful, Auntie — better than the fancy sukiyaki restaurants in Tokyo."
"Really?" Takasae's smile widened as she placed a piece of tofu on Misae's plate: "You eat more too, Misae — you've been so busy with the comic club, you've lost weight."
Misae's cheeks pinked. She nibbled her tofu, looking up at Hiroshi with eyes full of laughter.
Her Future Comic Club owed its smooth launch entirely to Hiroshi — finding the venue, liaising with the printing press, even delegating the coloring work for Doraemon and Midnight Diner to her team. Now the seven or eight artists in the club all earned stable incomes, and her heart overflowed with gratitude.
They ate and chatted, the atmosphere lively and warm.
Yoshiharu picked up some enoki mushrooms. Chewing thoughtfully, he suddenly sighed: "If only Isshin were here today — the whole family together, what fun."
Musae had just stuffed a piece of radish in her mouth. She mumbled indistinctly: "Yeah — without Big-Sis-Husband here, it feels like someone's missing."
"'Big-Sis-Husband'?!" Masae's face instantly turned apple-red. She swatted Musae's arm, voice carrying a note of reproach: "We're NOT married yet — stop calling him that!"
"I'm not making it up!" Musae swallowed her radish, retorting indignantly: "Last time he came over and I called him that, he didn't even correct me! Besides, you two have been together for six months already — marriage is just a matter of time."
"Stop IT!" Masae's face reddened further, her ear tips flushing pink — she wanted the floor to swallow her.
Hiroshi watched the sisters bicker, unable to contain his laughter.
Misae laughed too, quietly squeezing Masae's hand and whispering: "Musae just blurts things out — don't take it to heart."
Takasae lightly tapped Musae's hand, gently scolding: "How many times have I told you? Watch your words. Masae and Isshin haven't finalized anything — don't go throwing titles around."
Musae pouted, muttering "I know," and ducked her head back to the beef.
Takasae shook her head helplessly, then turned to Masae with soft eyes: "Speaking of which, Masae — this afternoon, Isshin's mother, Mrs. Temari, called me."
"Aunt Temari?" Masae blinked, setting down her chopsticks tentatively. "Was there something she needed?"
"What ELSE could it be?" Musae jumped in before Takasae could answer, eyes sparkling: "Obviously it's about the engagement! I've been SAYING — Big-Sis-Husband's family must be getting anxious. You're already twenty-five. Wait any longer and they'll think you don't want to marry!"
"MUSAE!" Takasae shot her a look, then smiled at Masae with a nod: "Mrs. Temari did mention it. She'd like to arrange a meeting between both sets of parents — to discuss you and Isshin."
"Really?" Masae's heartbeat surged. Her hands clutched her hem nervously as the blush deepened.
Isshin was steady and thoughtful, and treated her well. She'd long considered him the person she could entrust her life to — she'd just been too shy to bring it up with family.
"Of course it's real." Takasae took Masae's hand, voice full of satisfaction: "Mrs. Temari says Isshin mentions you often. Says you're gentle and thoughtful, that you cook, that you know your history — she's very fond of you."
Misae smiled too: "That's wonderful, Big Sis! I knew you and Isshin would work out! We'll all be one big family — how lovely." She looked up at Nohara Hiroshi, eyes sparkling with happiness.
Hiroshi read her gaze, reached over and gently patted her hand, smiling at her.
Misae's cheeks flushed deeper, but the corners of her mouth rose irresistibly. Her heart pounded like a caged bunny — yet felt impossibly warm, as though she were holding a little sun.
Musae, watching Masae's bashful display, pursed her lips and grabbed another piece of beef: "What's there to be shy about? Marriage is a good thing. But hey — if Big Sis does get married, will there be a big wedding? I HAVE to be a bridesmaid! And I want to wear a pretty dress!"
"Yes, yes, of course you'll be a bridesmaid." Takasae laughed, ruffling Musae's hair while placing potato on her plate: "Now eat — the potatoes are practically dissolving. If you don't eat them now, they'll be gone."
Musae instantly forgot the topic, devoting herself entirely to potatoes.
The living room's cheerful atmosphere returned. Yoshiharu — watching his daughters' happiness — felt content as well. He lifted the Juyondai and said to Hiroshi: "Come on, Hiroshi — drink with me. I'm in a good mood today. Let's drink our fill!"
Hiroshi promptly took the bottle, filling Yoshiharu's cup then pouring himself half: "Uncle, go easy — too much drinking's bad for you."
"Relax, I know my limits." Yoshiharu clinked cups with Hiroshi, took a sip, voice thick with emotion: "Really, I should thank you young people. Masae finding Isshin, Misae finding you — these are blessings. I used to worry they'd never marry. Clearly I was overthinking."
"You're too kind, Uncle." Hiroshi smiled and sipped.
The sake was mellow with a faint rice aroma. Truly excellent.
Takasae watched them drink, saying nothing, simply smiling while adding food to their plates: "Drink slowly. Eat something solid — don't drink on an empty stomach."
After more chatting, Yoshiharu suddenly remembered something: "Masae — has Isshin been very busy lately? When I called him last time, he said the Prefectural Office has been swamped, overtime every day."
"Mm, he's been working on a Kumamoto promotional plan." Masae nodded, then turned to Hiroshi with gratitude in her voice: "Oh — Hiroshi-kun, Isshin said he discussed Kumamon with you yesterday. He was especially excited — said your ideas were brilliant and that he was going to pitch them to the prefectural leadership."
"Kumamon?" Yoshiharu and Takasae froze simultaneously, speaking in unison: "Pitching to the prefectural LEADERS?! This is that high-level?"
"Of course — it involves all of Kumamoto Prefecture's promotion, so it's quite significant." Hiroshi explained with a smile: "After all, it could drive Kumamoto's tourism and specialty sales — an important city-branding cartoon character."
"A cartoon character?" Takasae looked thoughtful. "Like the Mickey Mouse you mentioned yesterday — Disney's?"
"More or less." Hiroshi nodded. "I think Kumamoto's current marketing is too dated — young people don't connect with it. A cute cartoon mascot might help more people remember Kumamoto."
"What a great idea!" Yoshiharu excitedly set down his cup. "A friend of mine visited Akita recently — the Akita Inu plushies were selling like crazy. Tourists were all buying them. If Kumamoto had something like that, it'd definitely take off!"
"Yes, yes!" Musae crowded in, eyes sparkling: "Brother-in-law, what does Kumamon look like? Is it fluffy? Does it have rosy cheeks? Can I be the FIRST person to buy its plushie?"
Hiroshi laughed at her eagerness: "It's round and chubby, with rosy cheeks — very cute. Once the design's finalized, you'll definitely be the first to see it."
"Awesome!" Musae cheered, then dove back into the beef.
Masae added: "Isshin also said that tomorrow he wants to bring the head of the prefectural publicity department to Tokyo to meet brother-in-law — to discuss Kumamon in detail and get your guidance on the promotional specifics."
"The prefectural leaders are inviting Nohara Hiroshi?" Yoshiharu and Takasae both widened their eyes, exclaiming in unison: "That's incredible! Hiroshi, you're now important enough for prefectural officials to personally seek your advice?"
Misae looked at Hiroshi with unconcealed pride and worship.
She'd always known he was remarkable — but hadn't imagined even prefectural leaders valued him this highly.
Hiroshi smiled calmly: "It's really nothing — I just suggested an idea to Isshin. Since the prefectural officials want to talk, I'll explain it properly and push to get Kumamon launched soon. I have detailed plans for a whole 'cute mascot' series that might help attract even more tourists to Kumamoto."
"A cute mascot series?" Masae asked curiously. "Are there other cartoon characters besides Kumamon?"
"Mm." Hiroshi nodded. "Beyond Kumamon, other regions could have mascots based on their local features — Osaka could have a takoyaki-shaped cartoon character, Kyoto could have a little bunny in a kimono. Each would promote local identity, and as a series, they'd draw even broader attention."
"What a brilliant concept!" Yoshiharu slapped the table in excitement. "Hiroshi, how does your brain work so well? If this series takes off, Japan's tourism will absolutely soar!"
Takasae nodded along: "Exactly — by then, Kumamoto will be the most popular destination. The fruit farmers can sell their oranges, and everyone's lives will improve."
Hiroshi watched the family's excitement, warmth filling his heart. Since transmigrating into this world — rising from an ordinary salaryman to TV Tokyo department manager, building a career, gaining Misae and the Koyama family as his own — he felt truly fortunate.
"All right, all right — enough talk, the food's getting cold." Takasae laughed, serving everyone. "Eat up. Once we're done, I'll make red bean soup for dessert."
"Yes please!" Musae cheered instantly, grabbing another piece of beef.
The living room remained lively. Sukiyaki's aroma mingled with sake's fragrance, filling the air.
Outside, the night deepened — Kumamoto City's lights scattered like crushed diamonds on black velvet.
Hiroshi gazed at this scene of perfect harmony and a thought formed: perhaps this was the very meaning of his transmigration — using his abilities to make the people around him happy.
He picked up his chopsticks, placed Misae's favorite pumpkin piece in her bowl, and said softly: "Eat more. There's red bean soup coming."
Misae looked up with a crescent-moon smile: "You eat too, Hiroshi."
Hiroshi nodded, gazing at Misae's smile, feeling utterly grounded.
He knew the road ahead was long — Kumamon's promotion, the Tokyo City election, the approaching bubble economy crisis.
But as long as these people were beside him, and this love for life remained, he was confident he could handle everything.
And in some corner of Kumamoto, someone was already looking forward to that adorable character called "Kumamon" — bringing an entirely new future to this city.
...
Morning light filtered through the latticed windows, scattering fine patterns across the tatami. The faint sweetness of last night's sukiyaki still lingered in the air.
When Nohara Hiroshi opened his eyes, Misae lay peacefully in his arms. Her long hair fanned across the pillow, the tip of her nose trembling softly with each breath — like a contented little cat.
Hiroshi leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her smooth forehead.
When his fingertip grazed her cheek, Misae's lashes fluttered — but she didn't wake, only burrowed deeper into his chest, mumbling a dream-word: "Hiroshi... beef..."
He laughed softly, brushing aside her bangs. This girl — even in dreams, still thinking about last night's sukiyaki.
He carefully disentangled her hand, rising with feather-light movements — terrified of waking her.
In the corridor, the soft clink of dishes already drifted from below. No need to guess — that was Takasae preparing breakfast.
Hiroshi first slipped into the studio prepared for him. Pushing the door open, last night's unfinished YuYu Hakusho storyboards still lay on the desk, pencil and eraser neatly beside them.
He sat at the low table, rolled his wrists, and picked up the pencil. The instant the lead touched paper, his thoughts crystallized.
He'd promised Shueisha this month: three chapters of YuYu Hakusho, two of Doraemon, plus a new Midnight Diner installment. Even with his fast hand, he needed to press on.
The pencil scratched across the page as Yusuke Urameshi's battle sequence gradually took shape.
Outside, early sparrows chattered. Below, Takasae's fish sizzled, her soy sauce sending its aroma upstairs. Musae's occasional wheedling voice wove through the sounds — these small noises made the morning feel extraordinarily solid.
One YuYu Hakusho chapter's storyboard complete, Hiroshi checked his watch: only six o'clock.
He stretched. Just as he was about to switch to the Doraemon manuscripts, light footsteps sounded behind him.
"Hiroshi... why are you up so early?" Misae stood rubbing her eyes in the doorway, hair still tousled, still in last night's pajamas, cheeks carrying that just-woken flush.
Hiroshi turned and beckoned: "Come sit."
She padded over, peering at the drawings on the desk: "Is this... the new YuYu Hakusho plot?"
"Mm, we're entering a new arc." He offered her the pencil: "Want to try?"
Misae waved her hands frantically, cheeks deepening: "No way — I'm no good at drawing." She studied the neat stacks of manuscripts, then glanced at the faint shadows under Hiroshi's eyes. A pang of guilt struck: "It's my fault for sleeping so soundly — I didn't even help. You're obviously more tired than me, yet you got up this early to draw..."
Hiroshi set down the pencil, pulled her into his arms, chin resting on her crown, voice impossibly soft: "Silly girl — saying things like that to me? You've been running the comic club — that's hard enough. Drawing is my work, my passion. I'm not tired."
He dipped his head and gently kissed the corner of her lips: "Besides, with me here — how could I let you wear yourself out? The house stuff, the club stuff — if it ever gets to be too much, tell me. Don't carry it alone."
Misae leaned into his chest, ears burning crimson, murmuring a tiny "mm" — fingers lightly gripping his hem.
Heart racing — yet feeling warm inside, like harboring a little sun.
Just then, the sliding door rattled open. Musae stood in the doorway hugging a pillow, calling out: "Brother-in-law! Misae-nee! Mom says come for —"
Her words died as she took in the entwined scene. Her face went scarlet to the tips of her ears. The pillow thudded to the floor.
She spun around like she'd been scalded, slamming the door shut. From behind it came her flustered voice: "S-sorry! I didn't see ANYTHING! Brother-in-law, why aren't you sleeping in the studio?! Why are you in Misae-nee's room?!"
Hiroshi and Misae locked eyes — then both burst out laughing. Misae buried her face in his chest, too mortified to look up.
From below came Takasae's voice, threaded with exasperation: "MUSAE! That child — running around wild! Misae's room isn't for you to barge into! Get down here! Stop causing trouble upstairs!"
"OKAY, Mom!" Musae's voice receded, tinged with grievance: "I was just calling them to eat..."
Hiroshi patted Misae's back, smiling: "Come on — time to go down. If we wait any longer, Auntie will start worrying."
Misae nodded, reluctantly disentangling from his arms. She smoothed her hair, then straightened his collar, whispering: "Let's... hurry downstairs."
Hand in hand they descended. At the bottom of the stairs — Musae sat at the dining table, head bowed low, ears still red.
Yoshiharu held his newspaper, pretending not to notice. Takasae bustled between kitchen and dining room with a knowing smile.
"There you are? Sit." Takasae set a bowl of miso soup before Hiroshi, handing Misae chopsticks: "I made the tamagoyaki you both love, plus grilled mackerel — all fresh. Eat while it's hot."
Hiroshi surveyed the table. Golden tamagoyaki on a glass plate, edges kissed with char. Grilled mackerel — skin crisped, dusted with nori flakes. A small dish of pickled radish, colors vivid. Steaming white rice alongside a small bowl of natto — the quintessential Japanese breakfast, yet suffused with the taste of home.
"Wow, it looks delicious!" Misae took a bite of tamagoyaki, eyes lighting up: "Mom, your tamagoyaki keeps getting better! Even more fragrant than that old Egg House shop in Tokyo!"
"Then eat more." Takasae smiled, eyes crinkling, placing fish on Misae's plate: "This mackerel was from the market this morning — as fresh as they come, barely any bones. Eat up, build your strength."
Musae also took a piece of tamagoyaki, murmuring: "Mom's tamagoyaki is the best..." Though after speaking, she stole a glance at Hiroshi and Misae, cheeks still quietly flushed.
Yoshiharu set down his paper, picked up chopsticks, mixed natto into rice, and said to Hiroshi: "Hiroshi — got plans today? If you're free, come check out the morning market with me. Fresh winter bamboo shoots just came in — we could pick some up for soup."
Hiroshi sipped his miso soup — warmth gliding down his throat, drawing a contented sigh. He set the bowl down: "Uncle, I'm afraid I can't today. I arranged to meet Fujiwara Isshin yesterday — to discuss the Kumamon business. I'll also need to borrow your car."
"Oh, right." Yoshiharu paused, then nodded. "Sure — take the car. It's parked out front, the old Toyota."
He scratched his head, slightly embarrassed: "It's a bit old, though — nothing compared to your Toyota Crown. Please don't mind."
Hiroshi laughed, setting down his chopsticks: "Uncle, what are you saying? Why would I mind? You've kept it in such great condition — it looks newer than most cars its age. Besides, cars are for driving. Comfort and safety — that's all that matters. Old or new makes no difference."
"Good — as long as you don't mind." Yoshiharu relaxed, then remembered: "So you're going to discuss that, what was it... Kumamon business?"
"Yes." Hiroshi nodded. "Isshin wants to submit the Kumamon plan to the Prefectural Office — hoping the mascot can promote Kumamoto, boost tourism and specialty sales. We arranged to talk in detail today, see what adjustments the plan still needs."
"Great idea!" Takasae chimed in: "Last time I visited my family, the old granny next door said her grandson works in Tokyo but doesn't dare tell coworkers he's from Kumamoto — afraid they'll say 'your place only has volcanoes.' With a cute cartoon mascot, maybe people's impression of Kumamoto would change."
"Exactly!" Musae lifted her head, eyes bright: "Brother-in-law, when will the Kumamon plushies be ready? I want to be the first to buy one! And I'll give them to my classmates — so they know Kumamoto has something this adorable!"
Hiroshi smiled: "Soon. Once the plan's approved, production will be arranged. You'll definitely be the first to get one."
"YAY!" Musae cheered, attacking her tamagoyaki with renewed vigor.
Masae — now finished with her meal — had changed into a cream-white dress, hair neatly combed, looking especially poised.
She wiped her mouth and addressed the table: "I need to head to school early today — still have lessons to prepare. I'll be going."
"Be careful on the road." Takasae handed over two pre-packed lunch boxes. "Breakfast and lunch — remember to eat. Don't get so busy you forget." Clearly accustomed to Masae's demanding schedule.
"I know, Mom." Masae nodded, then turned to Hiroshi: "Hiroshi-kun, if there's anything I can help with during your talk with Isshin, just let me know."
"Thank you, Masae-san." Hiroshi nodded.
Musae suddenly shoveled two huge bites of rice, dropped her chopsticks, and sprang up: "Big Sis! I'm going with you! I need to get to school early too — I want to tell my classmates about Kumamon!"
She grabbed her backpack and made for the door.
Takasae called after her: "MUSAE! You haven't finished your breakfast! Eat a few more bites!"
"No time, Mom! I'll walk with Big Sis and grab a bread roll on the way!" Musae's voice was already at the entrance: "Brother-in-law! Misae-nee! I'm off!"
Masae smiled helplessly, waved to everyone, and followed Musae out.
Yoshiharu watched Musae's retreating figure with a resigned sigh: "That child — still so scatterbrained. What'll become of her when she marries?"
Takasae shot him a look: "It's too early for that. She's still young — she'll mature with time." Then she served Hiroshi another bowl of rice: "Eat more, Hiroshi. You'll need the energy for driving. Take your time talking with Isshin — don't rush."
"Mm, I know." He accepted the bowl, adding a piece of fish: "Auntie, you eat too — don't just serve us."
Misae placed a piece of tamagoyaki on Takasae's plate: "Mom, try some — today's tamagoyaki is really, REALLY good."
"All right." Takasae nodded with a smile, eyes full of contentment.
Looking at her children, she felt life was solid and blessed.
After breakfast, Hiroshi stood to clear the dishes.
Takasae tried to stop him: "Hiroshi, just sit — I'll handle it. Go get ready, don't keep Isshin waiting."
"Auntie, let me — you rest." He took the dishes anyway: "It's no trouble. I'll be quick."
Misae rose too: "I'll help."
The two moved into the kitchen — Hiroshi washing, Misae wiping down — their coordination seamless.
Takasae stood at the door watching, then told Yoshiharu with a smile: "Look at those two. What a perfect match."
Yoshiharu set down his teacup and nodded: "Mm. Hiroshi's a solid, responsible young man. With Misae beside him, I'm at peace."
Soon the kitchen was spotless. Hiroshi grabbed his jacket, addressed the Koyamas: "Uncle, Auntie — I'll head out then. If I'm late for lunch, I won't bother calling."
"Sure — drive safely." Takasae reminded: "Take it slow. Have a safe trip."
Misae walked him to the door, straightening his collar, whispering: "Don't wear yourself out talking with Isshin. If you need me there, page me."
Hiroshi nodded, reaching over to pinch her cheek: "Got it. Don't just sit around either — if the comic club needs you, go ahead and handle things. Don't wait for me."
He leaned down and kissed her forehead: "I'm off."
"Mm. Be careful." Misae watched his back until he started the car, then turned and went inside.
Hiroshi drove Yoshiharu's old Toyota out of the narrow lane.
Early-morning Kumamoto City — the streets still quiet, sunlight pooling on asphalt with a warm glow.
He switched on the radio. Morning news filled the air, interspersed with bright snatches of music.
Hands on the wheel, Hiroshi recalled holding Misae, Musae's flustered flight, the Koyama couple's gentle smiles — and his lips curved upward.
After all this time in this world, he finally had the feeling of home. And from here forward, he would not only do his own work well, but help Isshin push the Kumamon plan through, help Kumamoto flourish — not just for Isshin, not just for the Koyama family, but for himself, for this world in which he'd taken deep root.
The car rounded a corner past cherry trees — buds already swelling on the branches. Hiroshi gripped the wheel, eyes sharpening with purpose.
A new day had begun.