novelraw Chapter 223: A Massive Success! Kumamon Ratings Soar! Governor Muto's Reflections!
Chapter 223: A Massive Success! Kumamon Ratings Soar! Governor Muto's Reflections!
Morning light had barely cut thin bright lines through the blinds of the Kumamoto Prefectural Station's statistics office — yet the air already hummed with barely contained excitement.
Takahashi Akira, in charge of ratings, slammed his report on the desk, voice trembling — not from nerves, but from sheer elation he couldn't quite steady.
"EVERYONE! Look at these numbers!" He jabbed at a red-circled figure, fingertip visibly shaking. "Last night's evening news slot — our station hit 18.7%! Over DOUBLE last week's same slot! And the morning news — even wilder — 15.3%! That's our station's five-year HIGH!"
The office erupted. Staff who'd been hunched over data rushed to crowd Takahashi's desk, eyes locked on the printout as if trying to bore holes through the numbers.
"No way!" Data-entry clerk Tanaka Saori rubbed her eyes, leaned closer. "Last week's morning news was only 6.8% when I processed it. How did it jump this much in just days?"
"How could it be fake?"
Takahashi handed her the report. "I cross-checked with the tech department THREE times last night. Every time slot's viewership curve is clean. Look here —" he pointed at a spike — "Yesterday at 7:10 PM, exactly when the Kumamon 'helping grandmother pick up oranges' clip aired, ratings rocketed from 12% to 18.7%. Like a missile launch!"
"It's Kumamon! Obviously it's Kumamon!" Watanabe Tetsuya leaped from his corner desk, tape of yesterday's broadcast still in hand. "When I got home, the neighbor's kid was glued to the TV watching this bear — wouldn't even eat dinner. His mom said the kid finishes homework then parks himself in front of the TV just WAITING for Kumamon!"
"Tell me about it!" Tanaka Saori set down the report. "My sister teaches kindergarten — called yesterday saying her kids imitate Kumamon's walk during nap time. Some even cut red paper into blush patches and stick them on their faces, begging teachers to play the clips. How did this bear get so popular?"
"It's all Nohara-san's genius!"Takahashi leaned against the desk. "Our station's shot plenty of promo clips before — Mount Aso scenery, samurai stories. Nice enough visuals, but audiences didn't bite. Look at Nohara-san's Kumamon — clumsy and adorable, doing trivial things like picking up oranges and haggling — yet INSTANTLY memorable."
"Right! First time I saw the screening cut, I thought the bear was TOO stupid — can't even walk without falling."
Watanabe scratched his head sheepishly. "Then yesterday my wife and I watched together — she laughed till she cried, asking where to buy a plushie. Thinking about it now — that exact 'silly' quality is what makes it relatable!"
Discussion heated up, drawing even the usually composed department chief Suzuki Yuichi.
He held a Prefectural Office inquiry letter, failing to hide his smile: "The Prefectural Office just called — they want our ratings data formatted in detail for the Governor's briefing. Also, neighboring prefectures' stations are requesting clip copies — their viewers keep calling asking 'where can we see this little black bear?'"
"Really?" Takahashi's eyes lit up. "So OUR station is hitting the big time? Before, WE were always asking TV Tokyo and Osaka for content. Now OTHER stations are begging US for clips!"
"All thanks to Nohara-san!" Suzuki sighed. "In all my years of statistics, I've watched maybe a hundred directors — but one who makes promo clips audiences actively CHASE? Nohara-san's the first. He doesn't just know how to film — he knows what audiences WANT. No fancy effects, no celebrities — just a costumed bear doing everyday little things — yet it feels warm and engaging."
He added: "Yesterday at the market, the fishmonger old Yamamoto told me everyone buying fish these days talks about Kumamon. Some even said 'watching the bear help someone with oranges makes me think Kumamoto people are really kind.' This isn't just promoting a cartoon character — it's promoting Kumamoto's WARMTH."
The office fell quiet, everyone absorbing Suzuki's words.
Indeed — Kumamon's popularity wasn't just about the character. It was the everyday humanity behind it — the convenience store clerk's laughter, the taiyaki vendor's kindness, the grandmother's warm smile.
These things moved people more than any polished production.
Then the office door opened.
Yamada Ichiro entered, followed by Deputy Director Nakamura Kenta and Fujiwara Isshin with an armload of documents.
"Suzuki-san — how's the data compilation?" Yamada asked, smiling expectantly.
Suzuki handed over the report: "Director Yamada — yesterday set a five-year record! Morning news 15.3%, evening news 18.7% — ALL thanks to Kumamon!"
Yamada scanned the numbers, his grin widening. He looked at the gathered staff: "Everyone's hard work paying off! All those overtime hours compiling data — it's finally bearing fruit. You're all heroes of Kumamoto!"
Embarrassed laughter. Takahashi scratched his head: "We just did our jobs. The real hero is Nohara-san. Without his Kumamon, none of these numbers happen."
"Exactly!"
Yamada nodded, turning to Fujiwara: "Remember our first Kumamon discussion with Nohara-san? I worried the character was too 'silly' for audiences. Clearly I worried for nothing. Nohara-san's instincts are far sharper than ours."
Fujiwara smiled: "I remember him saying 'promotion doesn't need grandeur — audiences want moments that make them smile.' Looking back, he was absolutely right. Kumamon succeeds because it's authentic and grounded."
Nakamura studied the report in awe: "On my way here, I overheard two students discussing Kumamon — planning to camp at the convenience store just to catch the latest clip. Our station NEVER had this kind of following!"
"And it's not just students!" Yamada laughed. "I passed the Prefectural Office coffee shop this morning — office workers were chatting about Kumamon, saying yesterday's dropped-taiyaki clip relieved their stress. Nohara-san didn't just promote Kumamoto — he's decompressing the populace! Two birds, one stone!"
He pivoted to Fujiwara: "The Kumamon merchandise — how's it progressing? The Prefectural Office phones are melting — everyone wants plushies and keychains."
Fujiwara set down his files and produced a report: "On track, Director. I've contracted three local toy factories — all willing to rush production. Plushie samples are done — the round-bodied type with mandarin-embroidered paws, like the one I sent to the Koyama house. Feedback's been excellent."
He opened the production plan: "First run: five thousand plushies, three thousand keychains, two thousand Kumamon T-shirts. Arriving next week. Available at the Prefectural souvenir shop, convenience stores, and scenic area shops. Pricing: plushies 800 yen, keychains 200 yen, T-shirts 500 yen — all affordable."
Yamada nodded approvingly: "Good quantities and prices. But will five thousand plushies be enough? Convenience store owners alone have pre-ordered hundreds."
"Covered." Fujiwara explained. "The factories are ready to add production lines immediately if the first batch sells well. Beyond standard merchandise, we're partnering with local food producers — Kumamon-themed snacks, mandarin candies, taiyaki-shaped pastries. Promotes the brand AND boosts local food businesses."
"Excellent!" Yamada clapped. "Promoting Kumamon AND supporting local enterprise — win-win! You've thought this through, Fujiwara-kun!"
Fujiwara smiled modestly: "Nohara-san prompted all of this. He said Kumamon shouldn't just be a promotional mascot — it should be a 'bridge' driving Kumamoto's economy. Through merchandise, more local businesses benefit — THAT'S genuine help for Kumamoto."
"Nohara-san truly thinks long-term!" Yamada shook his head in admiration. "From designing Kumamon, to filming shorts, to driving merchandise — every step meticulously planned. If Kumamoto had a few more talents like him, the economy would turn around in no time!"
Nakamura agreed: "Before, outsiders knew Kumamoto only for Mount Aso and samurai. Now Kumamon makes them think 'cute' and 'warm.' That shift matters more than any economic statistic."
Takahashi chimed in: "Yesterday I told my Tokyo friend about Kumamon — he didn't believe me, said Kumamoto only had volcanoes and samurai. I had him tune into our prefectural signal. After watching the clips, he said he's bringing his FAMILY to Kumamoto next week — just to see Kumamon and try our taiyaki!"
"THAT'S Kumamon's power!" Yamada laughed. "Attracting tourists AND changing Kumamoto's image. Fujiwara-kun — stay on top of production. This is our 'calling card' — quality must be flawless!"
"I'll visit the factories daily — personally monitoring quality." Fujiwara said firmly. "I'm also planning to announce release schedules on the Prefectural website and TV station — so everyone can buy promptly."
Then a thought nagged Fujiwara. While factories and food companies were engaged, nobody had been formally assigned to oversee merchandise quality control and sales channel management. The Prefectural Office could coordinate, but direct commercial operations weren't appropriate for government. Outsourcing risked profit-driven quality cuts that could tarnish the brand.
An idea struck. Tonight he was already planning to visit the Koyama house — discussing the parents' meeting and engagement plans with Masae.
Koyama Yoshiharu had management experience as a head teacher. Koyama Takasae excelled at interpersonal relations — perfect for sales channel coordination. If Hiroshi authorized the Koyama couple to establish a management company handling quality control and distribution, with Prefectural support, it would ensure quality AND provide the family meaningful income.
Fujiwara's lips curved. He'd float the idea tonight — then brief Director Yamada. A nice surprise for his "future in-laws," and a practical solution to the oversight problem.
...
The wooden door of Governor Muto Masao's office stood ajar. Morning light through the blinds cast fine patterns on the washi paper before him.
Faint roasted-tea fragrance hung in the air. Yamamoto Ichiro bowed, presenting a thick statistical report, voice controlled yet unable to fully mask his excitement.
"Your Excellency — according to last week's data, Kumamon's favorability across all age groups in the prefecture has reached 92%."
His fingertip traced the report's line graph — a steeply rising curve practically dancing across the page. "Children under twelve scored a perfect 100%. Surveys from five kindergartens show children's most anticipated moment each day is the Kumamon clip before evening news. This behavior has radiated to their parents and families — with extremely positive effects on your approval polling, Your Excellency."
Muto Masao raised his teacup, steam blurring the fine lines around his eyes.
He didn't look at the report immediately. Instead, he gazed out the window — in the Prefectural Office plaza, uniformed children circled a costumed Kumamon, bright laughter drifting up with an air of reassuring everyday warmth.
A Kumamon costume PR event was underway.
"How's the response from Fukuoka?" He sipped, voice quiet but carrying unassailable authority.
Yamamoto quickly flipped pages: "Fukuoka's prefectural station began simulcasting last week — morning slot ratings rose from 7.2% to 11.5%. Yesterday a Fukuoka city councilman called asking for posters — says local merchants are flooding City Hall's phone lines."
"Oh?" Muto finally set down his cup and took the report.
His fingertip paused on "Fukuoka," though little surprise showed in his eyes. "What about Nagasaki and Saga?"
"Nagasaki sent a formal request this morning for permanent broadcast rights. Saga was more direct — already sent their publicity team to discuss merchandise collaboration. Their ceramic factories want to produce Kumamon mugs — confident they'll sell out."
Yamamoto's excitement was escalating: "Governor — the entire Kansai region is buzzing about Kumamon. Kumamoto has TRULY made its mark!"
Muto turned pages slowly, eyes scanning the dense figures, stopping at a photograph — a white-haired grandmother holding Kumamon's paw, laughing so hard every wrinkle deepened, a steaming taiyaki stall beside her.
His fingertip traced the photo's edge. A faint smile finally appeared: "The external influence is secondary."
Yamamoto's smile briefly froze before understanding — Muto always prioritized substance over spectacle. More important than "fame" was whether promotion actually reached the people.
"Rest assured — local feedback is equally strong."
Yamamoto adjusted his tone, producing additional documents: "The prefectural citrus cooperative reports last week's orange sales up 30% over the previous month. Many customers said 'watching Kumamon help with oranges made me curious if Kumamoto oranges really are that sweet.' Central Commercial Street merchants report noticeably increased foot traffic, especially weekends — families purposely bring children to 'find Kumamon.'"
He turned to a handwritten letter: "This is from fruit farmer Sato in Joseinan-cho. He was worried about unsold oranges this year — but since the Kumamon shorts aired, orders overwhelmed him. He hired two temporary workers for packing. He specifically wants to send the Prefectural Office a crate of his freshest oranges — thanking you for spearheading such excellent promotion."
Muto accepted the letter. Yellowed paper bore neat brush calligraphy, every line radiating simple gratitude.
He studied it for a long moment before gently placing it on his desk, voice softening: "What matters most is that the people benefit."
"Citizens now call you 'the Governor who understands us.'"
Yamamoto added with genuine respect: "In recent street interviews about Prefectural Office performance, eight out of ten mention Kumamon — saying you don't just focus on economic development but found an adorable way to energize Kumamoto. They call you a 'leader with warmth who gets things done.'"
Muto's fingertip tapped the desk edge — he didn't respond, but his expression visibly softened.
Twenty-some years in politics, he'd seen enough hollow vanity projects. Compared to flashy statistics, "warmth" from the citizens' own lips was the most reassuring evaluation of all.
"The success owes much to that young man, Nohara Hiroshi."
Muto spoke with quiet reflection: "When he first came to discuss collaboration, I assumed he was just another animation director. Turns out he understands not just media, but how to capture people's hearts."
Yamamoto nodded eagerly: "Absolutely! Our station shot countless tourism promos before — Mount Aso scenery, samurai tales. Polished visuals, yet audiences never retained them. Nohara-san's Kumamon — neither grand nor sentimental — relies on pratfalls and haggling for memorability."
He chuckled, recalling his first reaction: "I'd worried the character was too 'foolish' — that audiences might think Kumamoto lacked class. But Nohara-san said: 'What people love was never perfect heroes, but relatable neighbors.' He was completely right."
Muto sipped again, expression sharpening: "Remember Tokyo Governor Koike Ryuichi's election? He won young voters and women with Nohara Hiroshi's 'dog lovers' PR strategy. And Tokyo's mayoral race — old fox Shimazu Yoshihiro used Hiroshi's 'information cocoon' approach to precisely target middle-class voters. This young man is FAR more than a cartoon filmmaker."
Yamamoto straightened — immediately grasping the implication.
Next year was Kumamoto's gubernatorial election. Though Muto won the last by a landslide, shifting economics were changing voter demands. Nohara Hiroshi's support would be significant leverage for reelection.
"Your Excellency, you mean..."
Muto set down his cup, gazing at the plaza below — Kumamon clumsily playing tag with children, tumbling flat on its back to roaring laughter.
After several seconds' silence: "Next year's election demands vigilance. Citizens increasingly expect 'real results.' Nohara Hiroshi made a cartoon character feel warm and genuine — proof he understands what people want. His help with our campaign strategy would significantly improve our odds."
Yamamoto brightened: "Actually, Kumamon's current promotion is the perfect foundation! Citizens already associate you with 'pragmatic, warm leadership.' If Nohara-san filmed more civic-oriented shorts — Kumamon visiting prefectural nursing homes, helping farmers with unsold produce — it would further strengthen your image while showing citizens that the Prefectural Office cares."
He continued: "Moreover, Nohara-san's national influence through TV Tokyo — Kasou Taishou, Tales of the Unusual, all nationally broadcast — if he mentioned Kumamoto's civic initiatives, it might even attract Tokyo investment. Isn't advancing tourism and manufacturing exactly what you've been pushing?"
Muto nodded, clearly agreeing. He tapped the desk thoughtfully: "Arrange a meeting next week. Invite Nohara Hiroshi to the Prefectural Office. I'd like to speak with him personally. Keep it informal — frame it as discussing Kumamon's continued promotion. Include a casual dinner."
"Right away!" Yamamoto replied, relieved — when the Governor decided, he acted. And Nohara Hiroshi, given their smooth collaboration, was unlikely to refuse.
Muto's lips quirked: "By the way — how's old Fujiwara Honmaru doing? Last time we spoke, he was complaining about his son refusing to date."
Yamamoto paused, then laughed: "Fujiwara-san is FINALLY relaxing! His son Isshin is getting along splendidly with the Koyama family's eldest daughter Masae. I hear both sets of parents are meeting next week to discuss the engagement. Last time I ran into Honmaru-san at the Prefectural entrance, he was bragging that he'd finally escaped relatives' matchmaking pressure."
"Wonderful news." Muto's voice lightened. "Fujiwara Honmaru and I are old colleagues — when he ran the finance section, he helped me greatly. I've been watching his son Isshin too — steady, meticulous work at our Prefectural Office. A fine match for the Koyama daughter."
He added: "When you arrange my meeting with Nohara Hiroshi, ask if Fujiwara Isshin can join too. He worked on the Kumamon project alongside Hiroshi — he'll have thoughts on future promotion. Multiple perspectives lead to better planning. Besides, more exposure with Nohara Hiroshi benefits his development — young people gaining experience is good for Kumamoto's future."
Yamamoto agreed enthusiastically: "Very thorough of you! Isshin greatly admires Nohara Hiroshi — told me recently he's learned a lot about promotion philosophy from him. Their continued interaction advances the project AND develops young talent."
Muto walked to the window, watching the lively scene below — Kumamon being mobbed by children for "autographs," drawing circles with its paw on paper, children laughing with delight.
After a quiet moment: "Kumamoto's economy has struggled these years. Young people keep leaving for Tokyo. We're doing this not just for elections — but to make Kumamoto better, to give young people reasons to return. Nohara Hiroshi bringing such vitality to a simple cartoon character might inspire us. Sometimes warmth is more powerful than slogans."
Yamamoto stood too, watching the Governor's silhouette, heart filled with respect.
He knew: beneath Muto's stern exterior beat a heart that held Kumamoto's citizens, Kumamoto's future.
Kumamon's arrival was a ray of sunlight — illuminating not just Kumamoto's promotional path, but its people's hope for the future.
"I'll arrange the meeting with Nohara-san and coordinate with Fujiwara Isshin. We'll make Kumamoto's promotion even better — and ensure your smooth reelection, doing more tangible good for the citizens."
Muto turned, nodded: "Thank you for your hard work. We don't need fanfare — just clear consciences. As long as Kumamoto's people live better, any effort is worthwhile."
His gaze returned to the window. Sunlight warmed the plaza. Kumamon's laughter and children's joy wove together — a warm, simple song.
A genuine smile finally crossed Governor Muto Masao's face.
Kumamoto's future would surely be like this adorable bear — full of vitality and hope.
Yamamoto left with brisk steps — he needed to contact Nohara Hiroshi and Fujiwara Isshin immediately, preparing for next week's meeting.
This collaboration wouldn't just help the Governor's reelection — it would let Kumamon's story continue warming more hearts.
Alone, Muto picked up the handwritten thank-you letter once more.
"Thank you, Governor, for doing real work for the people" — the words stood bold on yellowed paper.
He sighed gently, carefully placed the letter in his drawer — joining other citizens' letters, each one fuel propelling him forward.
He raised his teacup to the sunlight, silently resolving: Kumamoto MUST improve. These simple smiles must remain on the citizens' faces forever.
And Nohara Hiroshi — this young director — might just be the key to achieving that goal.
Next week's meeting would be crucial.
...
At the Koyama house, warm lamplight filled the living room, fresh dorayaki fragrance lingering in the air.
Misae sat at the low table, painting a new Kumamon design — roly-poly body in a red kimono, holding an oversized orange, blush patches more vivid than usual.
"How's this Kumamon?" She raised the paper eagerly. "I think the kimono version is adorable! It'd make a great plushie!"
Hiroshi emerged from the studio, storyboards in hand. He leaned in: "Very cute! The kimono pattern resembles Kumamoto's traditional designs — local character with a festive feel. Would definitely sell as merchandise."
Misae blushed: "I based it on Mom's woven kimono patterns — red felt festive, perfect for New Year's release. Oh — Fujiwara Isshin called. The parents' meeting to discuss his engagement to Masae is in a few days. He asked if we'd like to come along."
Hiroshi smiled: "Of course! Masae and Fujiwara-kun are so well-matched — we should show our support. What gifts did Auntie prepare?"
"Homemade dorayaki and pickles, plus she's knitting a scarf for Fujiwara-kun's parents." Misae continued sketching details. "Dad wants to discuss Kumamoto's education situation with Honmaru-san — you know how passionate he is about education."
Hiroshi chuckled. "Uncle will talk Honmaru-san's ear off. How are the plushies coming? You mentioned making a batch for the comic club."
"Almost done! Musae finished the last blush stitching yesterday. We even embroidered 'Future Comic Club' on the paws — cute AND commemorative."
She brightened: "Oh! The comic club wants to draw a Kumamon manga — 'Kumamon's Daily Life' — all the funny Kumamoto adventures. Helping grandmothers, haggling for taiyaki, Mount Aso exploration. If published, it'd sell amazingly!"
Hiroshi's eyes lit up: "Great idea! Promotes Kumamon AND grows the comic club. I can mention it to Shueisha — if the quality's there, they might publish it."
"Really?" Misae looked up in delight. "The club would be THRILLED! They've been worried nobody would read their work — publication would energize everyone!"
Hiroshi stroked her hair: "Your manga has genuine character — especially the heartfelt depictions of Kumamoto's customs. Shueisha should be interested. When we meet Fujiwara-kun's family, I'll discuss whether the Prefectural Office might also support it — selling copies as tourism souvenirs at scenic spots."
Misae nodded eagerly.
She gazed at her Kumamon drawing, feeling deeply grounded — with Hiroshi beside her, no challenge seemed insurmountable. Kumamon hadn't just enlivened Kumamoto — it filled everyone around her with purpose and hope.