novelraw Chapter 231: International Vision! Shocked Governor Muto! The Koyama Family's Farewell Dinner!
Chapter 231: International Vision! Shocked Governor Muto! The Koyama Family's Farewell Dinner!
When the wooden door of Sakura no Sato Izakaya opened, the 3:00 PM sunlight was slanting across the cherry tree out front. Pink and white petals fluttered down onto the bluestone path, carrying the warmth of the afternoon.
As soon as Hiroshi stepped outside, his wrist was gently grasped by a warm hand — it was Muto Masao.
The governor of Kumamoto Prefecture was now wearing just an off-white linen shirt, unbuttoned at the collar without a tie. Stripped of his official severity, he looked much more approachable, like an ordinary citizen.
He shook Hiroshi's hand, his fingertips calloused from years of holding a pen, his tone full of emotion: "Hiroshi-san, these two hours of chatting with you have been more useful than a whole day of meetings at the Prefectural Office. Before, I always felt Kumamoto's development was stuck because we 'lacked fame.' I racked my brains trying to figure out how to promote our specialties and attractions, but then you brought Kumamon and the 'IP + Tourism' concept, directly clearing the path for us. Amazing, truly amazing."
Hiroshi's tone remained steady, carrying just the right amount of humility: "Governor, you flatter me too much."
He smiled lightly as he continued:
"I just built a small idea on top of Kumamoto's existing foundation. You see, Kumamoto has the breathtaking Mount Aso, the relaxing Kurokawa Onsen, and delicious foods like basashi and strawberry daifuku. We already have exactly what it takes to attract people."
"All I did was tie these wonderful things together using Kumamon, an image that everyone loves. But implementing it requires everyone at the Prefectural Office running around to make it happen. For example, the tourist routes we promoted wouldn't have succeeded without the PR department coordinating with the attractions and guesthouses."
They had just spent a long time discussing the future development of Kumamoto Prefecture, and Hiroshi had spoken quite freely.
"You can't say that."Muto Masao let go of his hand, laughing and shaking his head. He pointed to Yamada Ichiro standing nearby. "Ask Yamada. Previously, the Prefectural Office spent three hundred million yen on promotional ads that ran for three months, and no one outside of Kumamoto even noticed. But your Kumamon short video aired on TV Tokyo just twice, and weekend tourists to Kumamoto increased by 30%. That's not something a 'small idea' can achieve."
Yamada Ichiro, still recovering from his shock, immediately nodded. He instinctively adjusted his glasses, his tone filled with disbelief: "The Governor is right. Hiroshi-san, when you said earlier that 'Southeast Asian tourists are more receptive to regional IPs than we think, and we should partner with agencies in Thailand and Malaysia to turn Kumamon into a cross-border tourism symbol,' I was truly caught off guard. I was only thinking about domestic promotion;
I wouldn't have dared to dream of an overseas push. And when you said, 'The problem with Japanese society right now isn't a lack of opportunities, but that local regions haven't fully utilized their unique characteristics. The reason young people are flocking to Tokyo is because their hometowns haven't shown them any hope.' That hit the nail right on the head. My neighbor's son studied design in Tokyo and stayed there right after graduation, saying, 'I can't find an IP design company in Kumamoto, so my only option here would be drawing posters for a small business.' Isn't that exactly the problem you mentioned!"
Fujiwara Isshin also nodded. He was still clutching the small notebook he had used to take notes earlier, its pages filled with dense handwriting.
He usually dealt with administrative tasks at the Prefectural Office and viewed issues mostly from a policy perspective. Listening to Hiroshi discuss economics and industries today made him realize how narrow his vision had been. "Hiroshi-san, I completely agree with your statement that 'the real estate boom is like a bubble — it looks lively, but bursts with a single poke. Only industries that can retain people are the true foundation.' My colleague's younger brother took out a fifty million yen loan to buy a secondhand apartment in Tokyo last year. Now he pays two hundred thousand yen a month in mortgage, eating up most of his salary. He doesn't even have money to date, constantly complaining to me, 'If I had known, I would have found a job back in Kumamoto. At least I wouldn't have a mortgage living at home.' Developing the tertiary sector to give young people in Kumamoto jobs and a place to settle down — that is what will truly benefit Kumamoto."
Hiroshi just smiled and didn't elaborate. He knew these thoughts might be a bit too advanced for Japan at this moment, but having experienced economic crises in his past life, he knew all too well the devastating effects of a real estate bubble.
Kumamoto hadn't been hit too hard by the bubble yet. Developing sustainable industries like tourism and culture now was much better than trying to make up for it after the bubble burst.
"It's getting late. I should head back to the Koyama residence to pack my luggage. I have a flight back to Tokyo tonight." Hiroshi checked his watch, the hands pointing to 3:15 PM. "Governor, Director Yamada, Isshin-san, thank you all for your hospitality today. And to you, Governor, for taking so much time out of your day."
"No need to be so polite!"
Muto Masao patted his shoulder enthusiastically: "Kumamoto is half your home now. Come back and visit whenever you have time. Kobayashi has noted your contact information. If Kumamoto has any new ideas, like the overseas promotion of Kumamon, I'll have him page you immediately. We'll have to trouble you for more advice then."
"Of course." Hiroshi bowed. "I'll take my leave now."
"I'll walk you to the car." Muto Masao accompanied him to his parking spot. Watching Hiroshi open the door of the old Toyota, he instructed him once more: "If you need any help from Kumamoto once you're back in Tokyo, don't hesitate to tell me directly. For instance, if your Future Comic Club needs source materials from Kumamoto, the Prefectural Office can connect you with local photographers to provide photos for free."
"Thank you, Governor." Hiroshi got into the car and waved goodbye: "See you all."
Muto Masao, Yamada Ichiro, and Fujiwara Isshin stood by the roadside, watching the old Toyota's engine start and slowly merge into the street traffic. Once the car disappeared behind the cherry trees, they turned and walked toward the black Toyota business van parked next to Sakura no Sato.
The interior of the van was immaculate, featuring dark brown leather seats. A small Kumamon figurine, given by a tourist previously, sat on the center console.
Muto Masao sat in the back, leaning against the seat with a long sigh. His tone still retained the excitement from their conversation: "Yamada, you heard it yourself. Hiroshi-san's 'focus on people rather than real estate' is absolutely correct. Young people in Kumamoto run off to Tokyo not because Kumamoto is bad, but because we haven't given them a reason to stay. If we can build up the tertiary sector — like developing IPs around Kumamon, opening design firms and merchandise factories, and perfecting our tourist routes — so that young people can find good jobs in Kumamoto, who would want to squeeze into Tokyo subways and pay absurd mortgages?"
Yamada Ichiro, sitting in the passenger seat, turned around and handed Muto a cigarette, then lit one for himself. The smoke slowly dissipated inside the car. "That's exactly right. Last time I went to Osaka for a meeting, I spoke with the PR director of the Osaka Prefectural Government. He said Osaka is facing the same issue — young people are rushing to Tokyo, and SMEs in Osaka can't recruit anyone. He even said, 'If only Osaka had a symbol like Kumamon.' I felt pretty proud back then, but hearing Hiroshi-san's insights, I realize we still have a long way to go."
He took a drag of his cigarette, his tone growing heavier. "Just like Hiroshi-san said, the current Japanese real estate boom is just a bubble. I have a friend who bought an apartment in Minato Ward, Tokyo. He spent thirty million yen three years ago, and now it's worth fifty million. He boasts about his 'asset appreciation' to me every day. But his son went job hunting in Tokyo, interviewed at over a dozen companies, and either the salaries were too low or they didn't offer a formal contract. In the end, he had to return to Kumamoto to work as a clerk in a small supermarket. What's the point of high real estate prices if young people can't find jobs?"
Fujiwara Isshin sat next to Muto, holding the notebook and turning to the page titled 'Real Estate and the Tertiary Sector'. He spoke softly: "Hiroshi-san also said, 'Local governments shouldn't blindly follow Tokyo's real estate boom;
they need to preserve their own unique characteristics.' Kumamoto's strengths are natural scenery and traditional culture. If we try to build high-rises and drive up property prices like Tokyo, not only will we fail to retain our youth, we'll lose our identity entirely. Remember when the Prefectural Office wanted to construct an office building next to Kumamoto Castle? Fortunately, they didn't. If they had, it would have ruined the tourist experience."
Muto Masao took the cigarette but didn't light it, looking out the window at the passing Kumamoto streetscape. There were Kumamon dolls at convenience store entrances, and several elementary school students were happily taking pictures with them.
He suddenly sighed. "You're both right. Previously, the real estate faction in the central government urged me: 'Kumamoto should construct high-end apartments to attract wealthy investors from Tokyo.' Thinking back on it now, it's a good thing I didn't listen to them. Even if those rich folks invested, they'd just buy properties and leave them empty. They wouldn't actually live in Kumamoto. It would just artificially inflate local housing prices, making it even harder for our own young people to afford a home."
He lit the cigarette, took a drag, and his gaze grew stern. "Oh, Yamada. Isn't Hiroshi-san part of Koike Ryuichi's faction? His approach to getting things done is very similar to Governor Koike's. Neither of them advocates speculating on real estate, and both emphasize the real economy, such as culture and tourism."
Yamada Ichiro paused for a moment before nodding: "You're right. Hiroshi-san, along with Governor Koike and TV Tokyo's President Shimazu, are core members of the 'Greater TV Tokyo Faction.' The faction's main stance is to 'suppress overheated real estate and develop the real and cultural economy.' When Governor Koike gave a report at the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly previously, he said, 'You can't eat real estate. Providing citizens with stable jobs, affordable housing, and a sense of happiness is what the government ought to be doing.' His words practically echo what Hiroshi-san said today."
"No wonder."
Muto Masao nodded thoughtfully, tapping his knee lightly. "The struggle between those two factions within the Liberal Public Opinion Party is getting more intense by the day. During the last central meeting, a lawmaker from the real estate faction claimed, 'Rising property prices in Tokyo prove our economic prosperity;
Tokyo's model should be implemented nationwide.' Governor Koike retorted immediately, 'How many young people in Tokyo are forced to rent in the suburbs because they can't afford a house, commuting for three hours every day? This prosperity is a facade, bought at the expense of our youth's future.' They almost got into a shouting match right there."
Yamada Ichiro chimed in with a sigh: "Exactly. The real estate faction is backed by major developers, like Sato Tokugawa from the Kirin Group, who have ties to numerous lawmakers. Last year, they wanted to build a resort near Mount Aso in Kumamoto under the pretext of 'boosting tourism,' but they were really just hoarding land. Thank goodness the Prefectural Office refused. If it had been approved, they would have decimated the environment around the volcano."
"Therefore, Kumamoto must steer clear of Tokyo's factional disputes."
Muto Masao stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, speaking firmly: "Whether the real estate faction wins or the TV station faction wins, our primary task is to manage Kumamoto well. We'll adjust our strategy once they settle their fight. Taking a closer look, though, aligning ourselves more with the TV station faction will be more beneficial for Kumamoto."
Yamada Ichiro and Fujiwara Isshin looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate.
Leaning back, Muto stared at Kumamoto Castle out the window, his tone becoming highly pragmatic: "Even if the real estate faction wins, they wouldn't funnel much money into Kumamoto. They only care about colossal cities like Tokyo, Osaka, and Nagoya, believing places like Kumamoto have no real development potential. At best, they'd construct a few apartment complexes so developers could line their pockets. But the TV station faction is different. Hiroshi-san made Kumamon a massive hit and can continue to assist us with promotion — like getting TV Tokyo to air more Kumamoto tourism clips, or featuring Kumamoto landmarks in the Doraemon anime. These are tangible benefits that will bring more tourists from Tokyo and Osaka, invigorating our economy."
"You are absolutely correct!"
Yamada Ichiro readily agreed, a smile of approval on his face. "Last time TV Tokyo aired a promotional short for Kumamoto, weekend tourists to Kumamoto Castle increased by 30%, and specialty shops sold out of basashi entirely. If we can foster a long-term partnership with TV Tokyo, Kumamoto's tourism industry will undoubtedly reach new heights."
Fujiwara Isshin nodded as well. "Hiroshi-san also mentioned proposing a 'Kumamon Travel Diary' manga series to Future Comic Club, introducing Kumamoto's scenic spots and cuisine, to be published by Shueisha. If the manga becomes popular, it will definitely attract the younger generation to Kumamoto. Young people love reading manga nowadays. If they see how fun Kumamoto is in the books, they'll want to experience it for themselves."
Seeing their enthusiasm, Muto Masao couldn't help but smile: "So, building a strong relationship with Hiroshi-san brings Kumamoto only benefits and zero drawbacks. Chatting with him today not only clarified Kumamoto's development strategy but also connected us with the TV station faction. Today was definitely productive."
Suddenly struck by a thought, he slapped his thigh, seemingly regretful: "I was so absorbed in our conversation that we barely had anything to drink at the izakaya! What a shame. Yamada, are you free this afternoon? Tonight, let's gather all the old friends who used to work at the Prefectural Office with us — the ones who understand Kumamoto. We'll find a nice place for a few drinks and chat about our forthcoming plans."
Yamada Ichiro nodded enthusiastically: "Of course! I'll call them right away. They'll definitely come — last time we discussed Kumamoto's development, they said they wanted a serious talk with you."
Muto then turned to Fujiwara Isshin, his tone a bit gentler: "Isshin, don't leave just yet. Your father, Fujiwara Honmaru, is a veteran Member of the House of Representatives from Kumamoto. He has extensive political connections and understands the local landscape intimately. Invite him to join us tonight. We need to formulate a robust strategy to implement Hiroshi-san's proposals."
Fujiwara Isshin was momentarily stunned before he grasped the implication.
Fujiwara Honmaru was a prominent local politician in Kumamoto with considerable influence within the Liberal Public Opinion Party. By inviting him, Muto Masao clearly intended to consolidate local networks, paving the way for future initiatives or perhaps even laying groundwork for the next election.
He nodded quickly: "Yes! I'll page my father right now. Once he knows it's an invitation from you, he'll definitely attend."
Muto Masao smiled with satisfaction. He leaned back against the seat, watching the setting sun out the window, his voice brimming with anticipation: "Good! We'll have a proper discussion tonight to finalize our direction. Kumamoto's current opportunity is rare;
we must seize it to make our city better, to convince young people to stay, and to let everyone know how wonderful Kumamoto is."
The van cruised slowly through Kumamoto's streets. The cherry trees by the road cast long shadows in the setting sun, while the Kumamon figures outside convenience stores continued to wave at pedestrians.
Yamada Ichiro was on his phone, calling his old colleagues, sounding ecstatic: "Hello, old Sato? Are you free tonight? Governor Muto is inviting us out for drinks, and there's important business to discuss... Yes, regarding Kumamoto's development. You absolutely must come..."
Fujiwara Isshin had taken out his pager, his fingers flying across the keypad as he sent a message to his father: "Dad, Governor Muto is treating you to dinner tonight at the 'Kumamoto-ya' izakaya next to Sakura no Sato at 7:00 PM. Important matters to discuss..."
Seeing the two men hard at work, Muto Masao's lip inadvertently curled upward.
He knew that tonight's gathering was more than just a casual dinner;
it was the genesis of incorporating local Kumamoto resources and paving the way for the city's future prosperity.
And the catalyst for all of this was the young Tokyo director — Nohara Hiroshi.
"Hiroshi-san..." Muto murmured softly, full of admiration. "What an extraordinary young man. Crossing paths with him is a stroke of incredible luck for Kumamoto."
The business van continued on its way, bathed in the sunset's afterglow that coated its black exterior in a lustrous, golden sheen.
In the distance, Kumamoto Castle stood imposing under the sunset, as if witnessing the profound transformation poised to sweep through the city.
Yamada Ichiro hung up and smiled at Muto: "Governor, all our old friends have agreed to come. They've all toiled alongside you at the Prefectural Office in the past and hold deep affection for Kumamoto. They'll definitely be an immense help."
Fujiwara Isshin put his pager away and added: "My father replied. He'll be there right on time at 7:00 and asked if he should bring any documents."
"No need for documents. Just a casual chat." Muto waved his hand dismissively, his mood lightening. "We'll savor Kumamoto's local cuisine with local sake tonight. Eating and chatting, nothing too formal. The critical thing is unifying everyone's vision so we can strive together for Kumamoto's future."
The van turned a corner, arriving at the "Kumamoto-ya" izakaya — a venerable establishment with decades of history. The owner, an old acquaintance of Muto, prepared basashi and miso soup that were renowned throughout Kumamoto.
Looking at the izakaya's sign, Muto Masao suddenly felt a surge of confidence.
The road ahead wouldn't be easy — there were factional battles at the central level to navigate, the exodus of local youth to address, and the colossal task of bolstering the tertiary sector — but as long as a group of like-minded individuals exerted concerted effort, and as long as they could continue partnering with talents like Nohara Hiroshi, Kumamoto would undoubtedly thrive.
The sun gradually set as darkness began to envelop Kumamoto's streets. The izakaya's lights flickered on, casting a warm glow onto the street, seemingly anticipating the lively gathering to come.
This gathering would mark a significant starting point for Kumamoto's future evolution, planting seeds of hope for tomorrow.
...
In Kumamoto at 4:00 PM, the setting sun had dyed the sky a pale amber. The light filtered through the cherry tree in the Koyama family's courtyard, casting a mottled mosaic of tiny shadows across the entryway's bluestone floor.
Just as Hiroshi closed the door of the old Toyota, he heard the click-clack of wooden clogs — Koyama Yoshiharu almost sprinted out to the rhythmic sound of the closing door. Clutched in his hand was a half-eaten dorayaki, his apron dusted with flour, obviously in the middle of preparing something in the kitchen.
"Hiroshi! Finally, you're back!"
Koyama Yoshiharu marched right up to him, his eyes sparkling, unable to contain his curiosity. "How did it go with Governor Muto? Nothing went wrong, I assume? He's the overseer of millions of citizens here. You must be careful with your words, not like you're casually chatting at home..."
Taking off his shoes, Hiroshi smiled warmly, a hint of the cool evening breeze still lingering on his fingertips. "Don't worry, Uncle. Everything went exceptionally smoothly. The Governor mainly asked about the upcoming IP development for Kumamon and Future Comic Club's role in character design. We basically ironed out all the details. He also stated that next week he'll mail a formal appointment letter designating me as 'Cultural Advisor for Kumamoto Prefecture' to Tokyo. From now on, any new promotional initiatives in Kumamoto will be run by me first."
"Cultural Advisor!" The dorayaki nearly slipped from Koyama Yoshiharu's grasp. He held onto it tightly, his voice brimming with awe. "That is an official appointment from the Prefectural Office! The grandest occasion in my entire life was twenty years ago when, as a middle school head teacher, I visited the Prefectural Education Board to meet the Education Director. You have no idea — my palms were drenched in sweat, and I completely forgot my greetings! In the end, the Director extended his hand to me first. And look at you — chatting amiably with the Governor and securing an appointment letter! Truly... the Yangtze River's rear waves push the front waves!"
"You're just jealous," Koyama Takasae remarked, carrying a celadon teacup from the kitchen. Steam curled gracefully from the rim. Smiling, she handed the cup to Hiroshi. "Hiroshi is competent;
he's never intimidated by anyone. You, on the other hand, got nervous meeting an education director, yet you still flaunt your title as a 'veteran educator'."
"That was respect!"
Koyama Yoshiharu instantly retorted, straightening his back rigid as a board. "An education director manages all the schools in the city;
that's a VIP! I was there representing Kumamoto Middle School to receive the 'Outstanding Educational Unit' certificate. Of course, I'd be nervous! Not like Hiroshi, chatting with the Governor like old pals, even daring to advise him on tertiary industry development. I never had that kind of audacity in my youth."
Standing nearby, Misae couldn't help but chuckle. In her arms was the thick stack of Doraemon storyboards she had been organizing all afternoon. Her light purple loungewear accentuated her fair skin.
The laughter brought a soft, rosy flush to her cheeks. "Dad, Hiroshi wasn't treating the Governor like an old pal;
he was incredibly serious during their discussion. Isshin-san mentioned that in the Prefectural Office reception room, Hiroshi and Director Yamada plotted out entire tourist routes, even detailing ideas like 'setting up a Kumamon check-in station at each site, where tourists collect stamps to exchange for merchandise.' Director Yamada actually stated that this idea was 'more intricate than the plans provided by advisors sent from the central government'."
She stepped closer to Hiroshi, admiration shining in her eyes, her voice gentle and soft: "I thought it was amazing enough that Hiroshi directed Seven Samurai and created Midnight Diner. I never anticipated even Governor Muto would hold you in such high esteem... Sometimes I feel like I'm dreaming. Last year, you were just a regular director at TV Tokyo. Now, you're the Cultural Advisor for Kumamoto, casually discussing the city's future alongside the Governor."
Accepting the tea, Hiroshi felt the comforting warmth of the cup. Meeting Misae's sparkling gaze, his tone naturally softened.
He smiled softly. "I was just fortunate to stumble upon an opportunity to unleash my potential. If Kumamoto didn't possess such an incredible foundation—with the magnificent scenery of Mount Aso, the relaxing Kurokawa Onsen, and the unwavering support from Uncle and Auntie—Kumamon wouldn't have blossomed either. Moreover, Future Comic Club's role in the IP development is entirely down to your own capabilities. Last time you did the coloring for Midnight Diner, Editor Tadokoro was praising your meticulous attention to detail, claiming it was superior to professional studios."
"Alright, alright, stop chatting at the door and come inside," Takasae directed, ushering Hiroshi toward the living room. "I've prepared some local specialties, only the finest from Kumamoto. Take them back to Tokyo to share with your colleagues."
Several paper-wrapped parcels already sat neatly on the low table in the living room. Takasae began opening them one by one for Hiroshi: "These are fresh strawberry daifuku I made yesterday, crafted with strawberries from the foot of Mount Aso, spectacularly sweet;
this is dried horse meat from the 'Satoya' at the end of the alley, a time-honored brand best enjoyed with sake;
and these are pickles I made myself from Kumamoto's unique mini cucumbers, phenomenal with rice. They'll last for a long time stored in the fridge."
Hiroshi surveyed the items. Each parcel was immaculately folded and bore a small label: "Strawberry Daifuku (Refrigerate for 3 Days)" and "Dried Horse Meat (Store at Room Temperature)." Takasae had clearly gone out of her way to provide these.
A profound warmth filled his chest. "Auntie, you're too generous. You always go to such immense trouble whenever I visit. Honestly, there's no need to pack so much;
I can purchase Kumamoto specialties in Tokyo."
"Can what you buy possibly compare?"
Sitting cross-legged on a cushion nearby, Koyama Yoshiharu took a sip of tea, his tone laced with a hint of pride. "This is the authentic taste of home! The strawberry daifuku you buy in Tokyo might be made with Osaka strawberries;
the dried horse meat is probably frozen. Nothing rivals local freshness. Besides, you've done an astronomical favor for Kumamoto. If Governor Muto praises you as 'Kumamoto's benefactor,' what's wrong with me, as your elder, sending you off with some local treats?"
He paused, scratching his head somewhat sheepishly. "Though, honestly, these items aren't worth much. They can't possibly compare to the commemorative TV Tokyo badge you gave me... When I flaunted it to my old chess buddies at the park, they were all envious of my 'accomplished younger generation' connections, even scoring TV Tokyo memorabilia."
"Uncle, you're making too much of it."
Hiroshi shook his head, his tone resolute. "How can sincerity be measured in money? That tonkotsu soup Auntie made earlier was superior to the most renowned izakayas in Tokyo;
and the shogi you taught me? I've actually beaten Director Kurosawa Eiji twice using your strategies. These little things wrapped in the warmth of home are more precious than anything else."
Koyama Yoshiharu broke into a broad smile, setting down his teacup and slapping his thigh excitedly. "Well said! Hiroshi, you always know the exact right thing to say! By the way, considering your flight is at 11:00 PM, I booked a reservation at the 'Takeya' izakaya near the airport tonight. Our family will get together for dinner to properly bid you and Misae farewell. I've already spoken with Masae and Isshin. She said the school activities conclude at 5:00 PM, and Isshin will drive to pick her up. Musae will meet us straight from school as well, so we won't need to wait."
"Whoa! 'Takeya'?" Misae's eyes sparkled. "Musae and I went there once! Their grilled mackerel is exquisite, and the tofu in their miso soup is so soft!"
"Indeed!" Koyama Yoshiharu beamed. "The owner is the parent of a former student of mine. He's run that izakaya for thirty years now, the definition of authentic. I specifically requested a table by the window so we can watch the planes take off and land. Eating while plane-watching—how fun is that?"
Hiroshi quickly interjected: "That's way too extravagant. You and Auntie are already so busy, and now you booked an izakaya for us... honestly, a simple dinner at home would have been perfect."
"Extravagant? Nonsense!"
Koyama Yoshiharu waved off the concern, pretending to look stern, but unable to mask the smile crinkling the corners of his eyes. "You are our prospective son-in-law, soon to be officially family. Isn't a proper send-off expected? Furthermore, after the massive service you rendered Kumamoto, even receiving a personal thank-you from Governor Muto, as the elder of the family, I have a duty to treat you to some drinks and hear all about your endeavors in Tokyo."
"Dad! Why bring that up again..." the words 'prospective son-in-law' turned Misae's cheeks bright red. She lowered her head instantly, twisting her hem, her voice dropping to a faint whisper.
Both Takasae and Yoshiharu laughed heartily, while Hiroshi chuckled along. The warm yellow light in the living room washed over them, the air humming with an indescribably cozy atmosphere.
...
The sun sank further behind the mountains, and Kumamoto's streetlights gradually flared to life. Warm yellow light filtered through the Koyama family's living room windows.
Around 6:00 PM, the harsh squeal of brakes broke the silence outside. Misae immediately sprang up from the sofa: "That must be Big Sis and Isshin-san!"
Rushing to the door, she saw Masae stepping out of a black Prefectural Office sedan. She still wore her pale gray school blazer over her uniform, her hair tied in a loose bun, clutching a folder.
Fujiwara Isshin, wearing his familiar navy suit, grabbed his briefcase and helped Masae place the folder in the car. Seeing Misae, he smiled and nodded politely: "Misae-san, good afternoon."
"Big Sis! Isshin-san!" Misae hurried over, taking the folder from Masae. "How did the school event go? Were you late?"
"It went smoothly;
finished right at 5:00. Isshin picked me up early, so we weren't late."
Masae ruffled Misae's hair, her gaze drifting to Hiroshi standing behind her. With a smile, she inquired: "Hiroshi-san, I heard your meeting with Governor Muto went swimmingly? Isshin told me the Governor even specifically requested Future Comic Club's involvement in Kumamon's character designs."
Hiroshi nodded: "Yes, it's all finalized. Next week, the Prefectural Office will send representatives to coordinate with Misae. Should you require any materials or references, you can request them directly from the PR department."
Fujiwara Isshin approached, a small notebook in hand, clearly having just jotted down some notes. "Hiroshi-san, after the meeting with the Governor, I huddled with the PR department and recorded the 'overseas promotion plan' you outlined. They want to begin collaborating with tourism agencies in Thailand and Malaysia, broadcasting Kumamon shorts on their local travel channels. They also want Future Comic Club to produce a manga series titled 'Kumamon's Southeast Asian Travelogue'. What are your thoughts?"
"That's an excellent concept."
Hiroshi pondered for a moment. "Tourists in Southeast Asia are quite fond of adorable characters, and Kumamon fits that aesthetic perfectly. The manga can incorporate more cultural interactions between Kumamoto and Southeast Asia — for example, Kumamon posing with Thai elephants or preparing Nasi Lemak alongside Malaysians. This not only promotes Kumamoto but also provides local tourists a sense of familiarity."
Listening intently, Koyama Yoshiharu nodded vigorously, unable to suppress a sigh. "Everything you're discussing goes completely over my head, but it sounds terribly impressive. Back when I was a head teacher, the most profound topic I discussed with other educators was teaching methodologies. The two of you, on the other hand, casually dropping terms like 'overseas promotion' and 'IP design'... Times certainly have changed."
"Dad, if you're interested, I can explain more to you later," Masae offered with a smile. "Like how much Kumamon merchandise has sold or the percentage increase in tourist footfall — those are figures you'll easily grasp."
Just then, a flurry of light footsteps announced Musae's arrival. She bounced in wearing her school bag, a Kumamon charm swaying back and forth on her zipper. "I'm hoooome! Big Sis, Brother-in-law, I just saw a Kumamon mascot car parked outside the school gates! There were so many kids crowding around taking photos, and I got to shake hands with it!"
She sprinted up to Hiroshi, presenting her hand excitedly: "Look! I even got a Kumamon sticker from the staff!"
Examining the pink Kumamon sticker stuck to her hand, Hiroshi smiled: "That's adorable. If you like them, Musae, I'll ask the folks from the Prefectural Office to send you an entire stack."
"Really?! Awesome!" Musae hopped up happily. "I'm going to plaster them all over my textbooks! My classmates will be so jealous!"
Takasae chuckled, gently patting Musae's back. "Alright, alright, settle down. It's time to head to the izakaya, or the owner will be fretting."
Soon, the two cars departed the Koyama alleyway one after another. Fujiwara Isshin drove the black Toyota Prefectural Office sedan, with Koyama Yoshiharu occupying the passenger seat and Hiroshi in the back.
Masae, driving the family's white Honda, had Takasae beside her, with Misae and Musae in the back.
The evening deepened. The cherry trees lining the street radiated a soft halo under the streetlights. Occasionally, they'd spot a Kumamon doll displayed outside a convenience store, accompanied by excited children pointing and shouting delightedly while holding their parents' hands.
Gripping the steering wheel, Fujiwara Isshin occasionally glanced at Hiroshi through the rearview mirror, his voice filled with reverence. "Hiroshi-san, when Governor Muto discussed your 'Kumamon + Local Produce' idea in his office today, he was incredibly enthusiastic. He explicitly demanded the agricultural department expedite the process—producing gift boxes of strawberries and oranges branded with Kumamon to sell in Tokyo. He literally declared you 'Kumamoto's benefactor', stating development of this scale wouldn't have occurred without you."
Hearing this, Koyama Yoshiharu, sitting in the passenger seat, puffed out his chest, bursting with pride. "Exactly! Governor Muto's praise is spot on! Hiroshi isn't an ordinary man! When I first met him here in Kumamoto, I recognized how composed and mature he was compared to peers his age. Clearly, my intuition was flawless!"
He paused and sighed deeply: "It's quite amusing, really. One often assumes the youth lack the experience for monumental tasks, yet here's Hiroshi, barely in his twenties, achieving so much—Yamishibai, Tales of the Unusual, Seven Samurai... every single one a phenomenal hit. Age truly doesn't dictate capability;
genuine talent is what prevails."
Leaning against the backseat, Hiroshi observed the passing cityscape, murmuring softly: "You're exaggerating, Uncle. I was simply fortunate to encounter the right opportunities. At TV Tokyo, Bureau Chief Sakata and Deputy Director Asumi supported me immensely, permitting me creative liberty. Additionally, my senior, Director Kurosawa Eiji, generously imparted vital cinematic knowledge. Without them, none of these productions would have materialized."
"You're far too modest!"
Koyama Yoshiharu turned his head, laughing as he shook it. "Luck constitutes a portion of success;
if you lacked genuine capability, the opportunity would have slipped through your fingers regardless. Take our company's old Sato, for instance. The Prefectural Office allotted him a quota to manufacture Kumamon merchandise, but he produced incredibly skewed and misshapen dolls, resulting in them all being returned. That's a textbook example of squandering an opportunity due to a lack of skill."
Fujiwara Isshin nodded in agreement. "Yoshiharu-san is absolutely right. Not only do you possess unparalleled talent, Hiroshi-san, but you have incredible foresight. Warning Governor Muto about the real estate bubble and advocating for tertiary sector development isn't something an ordinary person considers. Currently, our youth are flocking to Tokyo;
if we successfully cultivate our tourism and cultural sectors, providing stable employment right here in Kumamoto, the city's future will only shine brighter."
The car traced the coastal highway, the distant sea horizon stained a vibrant crimson by the setting sun. The coastal breeze whispered through the slightly open windows, carrying a hint of sea salt.
Staring out at the ocean, Koyama Yoshiharu unexpectedly released a prolonged sigh. "I wish Kumamoto harbored such tremendous opportunities during my youth. Back then, I solely desired the stability of teaching. In retrospect, a man ought to harbor loftier ambitions—doing something to genuinely improve his hometown, exactly like you're doing, Hiroshi."
"It's never too late, Uncle."
Hiroshi countered with a smile. "Presently, you serve as the President of the Kumamon Cultural Company. Actively promoting Kumamon daily and stimulating Kumamoto's economy—you are significantly contributing to your hometown, far surpassing what most people accomplish."
Koyama Yoshiharu's eyes glinted, his posture straightening even further. "You're undeniably right! I feel brimming with vitality these days, as if I shed years off my age. Next time you visit, Hiroshi, I will personally give you a tour of our manufacturing plant. They're currently producing Kumamon keychains and badges, and business is booming!"
Sensing their energetic rapport, a warm smile spread across Fujiwara Isshin's face.
To think, having formed the company and taken charge of IP oversight, merchandise quality control, and Kumamon's image, Koyama Yoshiharu had rediscovered the joy of holding authority.
Reflecting on how his two impending sons-in-law had made it possible, he was positively elated.
...
Simultaneously, the atmosphere in the white sedan trailing behind was just as lively.
Occupying the passenger seat, Koyama Takasae frequently twisted around to check on Misae and Musae in the back, her voice tinged with motherly concern: "Misae, once you return to Tokyo, you must speak earnestly with Hiroshi. Both families need to coordinate a weekend gathering. Your father communicated with his parents via pager quite some time ago. Although they reside in Omagari City, a bit distant from Tokyo, it's only a three-hour journey via the Shinkansen, which is relatively convenient."
Clutching a small Kumamon plushie, Misae's cheeks were still rosy: "I understand, Mom. Once Hiroshi wraps up the Doraemon anime negotiations, I will speak with him."
"Why wait until he's finished?"
Koyama Takasae frowned, her tone growing impatient: "Matters like this require prompt action! Consider your older sister—engaged to Isshin-san, with a wedding scheduled for next year. You shouldn't lag too far behind. Hiroshi is a stellar young man: talented, honorable, and he treats you exceptionally well. Such a man is immensely rare;
secure the commitment early to avoid any unforeseen complications."
"Mom!" Misae's face burned even brighter, quickly concealing herself behind the Kumamon plushie. "Why are you bringing this up..."
"Sis is just embarrassed!" Musae, sitting beside her with a volume of Doraemon in hand, chimed in, her smile curving her eyes into tiny crescents. "I discern exactly what Sis is contemplating! She undoubtedly pictures herself in Brother-in-law's Tokyo apartment, cuddled up watching Doraemon, devouring strawberry daifuku, and basking in their private paradise, correct?"
"Musae!" Misae lunged forward to tickle her. "If you spout any more nonsense, I will never bring you manga from Tokyo again!"
"Eek! I surrender, Sis!" Musae giggled, squirming away, yet remaining undeterred. "However, if you do get married, I demand to be the flower girl! Additionally, Brother-in-law must draw a Doraemon Wedding Special! Nobita will serve as the best man, Shizuka as the maid of honor, and Doraemon can utilize the Anywhere Door to transport everyone to the venue—wouldn't that be sensational?!"
Laughing softly as the sisters playfully wrestled, Koyama Takasae interjected: "That's honestly a brilliant proposal, Musae. Have Hiroshi draw a set for us to print as invitations;
it would be phenomenally unique. By the way, Misae, how large is Hiroshi's apartment? Is it spacious enough for both of you? If it's too cramped, your father and I can assemble some funds to help you upgrade. Our family isn't excessively wealthy, but we won't allow you to suffer any discomfort in Tokyo."
"Mom, it's not necessary," Misae reassured her, ceasing her playfulness and speaking earnestly. "Hiroshi's apartment has two bedrooms, a living room, and a small balcony—perfectly adequate for us. Furthermore, Hiroshi mentioned that once the comic club expands and stabilizes, he intends to purchase a car for me to simplify my commute."
"That's excellent then, excellent." Koyama Takasae sighed with relief, immediately following up with more advice: "However, you must be attentive to Hiroshi. His schedule is demanding, often entailing late nights for programs and manga. If you have the time in the evenings, prepare some miso or red bean soup to nourish him. A man faces considerable hardship establishing his career;
he requires someone at home to care for him."
"I know," Misae nodded gently, her gaze tender. "The last time Hiroshi stayed up until 2:00 AM drawing in Kumamoto, I prepared a bowl of tonkotsu soup for him. He said it was delicious and requested that I make it for him every single day."
"Aha! That's the correct approach!" Koyama Takasae beamed, her smile widening. "To capture a man's heart, a woman must first capture his stomach. Your father treats me this well because I cook his favorite tempura every single day;
it's practically a testament to our enduring marriage."
"Mom, what era do you think this is..."
Driving the car, Koyama Masae couldn't refrain from looking over her shoulder to chime in, her tone an admixture of exasperation and amusement. "Nevertheless, Misae, while Hiroshi appears very composed, he is inherently quite meticulous. Ensure maintaining transparent communication with him moving forward. Avoid throwing tantrums when he's overwhelmed with work;
wait until he's relaxed before discussing your thoughts. Men occasionally resemble oversized children—they require coaxing."
"Big Sis makes a valid point." Misae nodded in agreement. "I'll bear that in mind."
"See, communication is fundamental." Koyama Masae smiled. "Additionally, Hiroshi is a public figure. You must mentally prepare yourself for reporters tailing you;
don't allow trivial matters to instigate arguments. During my part-time stint at the Prefectural Office, I witnessed numerous entertainers' families dissolve in divorce because the spouses couldn't tolerate the incessant paparazzi—a tragic waste."
"I understand, Big Sis. I'll be exceedingly careful," Misae stated resolutely. "I trust Hiroshi implicitly, and I have faith in our relationship. We won't allow trivial matters to disrupt our bond."
"That's very comforting to hear."
Koyama Takasae nodded approvingly. Suddenly recalling something, she rummaged through her purse and produced a crimson cloth pouch, handing it to Misae: "This is a protective amulet I requested for you from the shrine adjacent to Kumamoto Castle. Keep it alongside you;
whether you're living in Tokyo or managing life with Hiroshi, it will ensure your safety and prosperity."
Accepting the pouch, Misae felt its comforting warmth. Intricately embroidered with diminutive cherry blossoms, she clutched it tightly, her eyes welling with suppressed tears: "Thank you, Mom."
"There is no need for gratitude between family." Koyama Takasae gently stroked her hair. "Once you arrive in Tokyo, remember to call home frequently. Although cell phones remain exorbitant, our landline is perfectly accessible. If your father and I miss you, we can take the Shinkansen to visit you and help organize Hiroshi's apartment."
"Okay," Misae's voice trembled slightly, though she was smiling and nodding. "I will call frequently. I'll relay updates regarding the club as well, such as Kobayashi-san's Kumamon merchandise designs or Sato-san's new manga concepts, to put your minds at ease."
Observing her sister's emotional state, Musae dropped her facetious demeanor and gently tugged Misae's hem. "Second Sis, if you ever experience hardship in Tokyo, just return to Kumamoto. Mom, Dad, and I will be eagerly waiting for you. Also, do not forget to bring me Tokyo manga, particularly the latest volume of YuYu Hakusho! My classmates are incessantly bugging me to borrow it!"
"I know, I won't forget." Misae managed a fond chuckle, extending her hand to pat Musae's head.
The car steadily rolled across the bridge toward the airport. In the distance, the brilliantly illuminated terminal stood proudly against the night sky, resembling a beacon.
Focusing on the road ahead, Koyama Masae whispered softly: "We're nearing the izakaya. We must properly converse with Hiroshi tonight;
it serves as their authentic farewell."
Koyama Takasae nodded, staring at the nighttime scenery passing by, her voice infused with anticipation: "Here's hoping Hiroshi and Misae prosper in Tokyo, that the comic club continually thrives, and Hiroshi's career scales even greater heights... Our children are all exceptional."
Resting her head against the car window, Misae watched the blurred lights streak past, a profound warmth enveloping her heart.
She understood that regardless of the adversities she might face in Tokyo, her family remained an unwavering fortress, and Hiroshi, at her side, would endlessly brave life's impending storms with her.
The car gradually approached the "Sakurazaki" izakaya, a warm, golden radiance emanating from a lantern at its entrance, its surface embellished with the characters "Sakurazaki" conveying an incredibly welcoming aura.
Fujiwara Isshin's vehicle was already parked, and Hiroshi alongside Koyama Yoshiharu waited patiently by the door.
Misae pushed the car door open and stepped out. She beheld Hiroshi, smartly clad in his suit, standing beneath the lantern's glow with a gentle smile, waving in her direction.
She briskly walked over, slipping her hand through his arm, and softly murmured: "Hiroshi, we've arrived."
"Mhm, you have," Hiroshi affirmed, taking her hand. His fingertips felt warm. "Tonight, we shall indulge in a spectacular meal, a proper farewell to Kumamoto."
Observing their intimacy, Koyama Yoshiharu chuckled affectionately: "Alright, alright, let's not linger at the door! The izakaya owner is anticipating us. The freshly grilled mackerel awaits alongside Kumamoto's finest sake—tonight, we're not going home until we're drunk!"
"Yes! Not going home until Drunk!" Musae squealed enthusiastically, dragging Masae by the hand and practically skipping into the izakaya.
Koyama Takasae shook her head with a smile at the sight of her children, subsequently following them inside. The lantern by the entrance swayed gently in the breeze, casting elongated shadows that seamlessly merged into Kumamoto's warm, promising night.
Inside the izakaya, the lighting was a soothing, golden hue. The air was thick with the savory aroma of grilled mackerel and the rich fragrance of sake.
The owner, a middle-aged man in his fifties wearing a pristine white chef's uniform, immediately beamed upon seeing them enter. "Yoshiharu-san, you've arrived! I deliberately saved the best table for you and grilled your favorite horse meat skewers. Please, have a seat!"
Smiling and nodding respectfully, Koyama Yoshiharu directed the group to the table positioned by the window.
Hiroshi perused the menu, noting it offered all of Kumamoto's specialties: grilled horse meat, tempura, miso soup, strawberry daifuku, and locally brewed sake.
He glanced up at Misae with an affectionate smile. "What would you like to eat?"
"I desire grilled horse meat and strawberry daifuku!" Misae promptly replied, her eyes shimmering.
"Very well. We'll have the grilled horse meat, strawberry daifuku, a serving of tempura, and a decanter of sake." Hiroshi closed the menu, handing it back to the owner. "Boss, please expedite the order;
we have a flight to catch shortly."
"You got it! It will be out momentarily!" The owner agreed with a jovial smile, turning and disappearing into the kitchen.
Staring at the sake cups neatly arranged on the table, Koyama Yoshiharu was overcome by a wave of emotion. "Ah, time truly flies. When you first arrived in Kumamoto, Hiroshi, you were merely a young man fresh from Tokyo. Now, you're returning to Tokyo as a Cultural Advisor. Nonetheless, please visit us frequently;
Kumamoto will eternally be your home."
"I shall, Uncle," Hiroshi promised, raising his sake cup. "Let us propose a toast. Thank you everyone for caring for me during my stay."
"Cheers!" Everyone present hoisted their glasses. The sharp clinking of cups echoed through the izakaya, bathed in the cozy, golden light—a picture of unadulterated warmth.
The night outside gathered density, the silhouettes of cherry trees swaying gently under the streetlamps. Inside the izakaya, the joyous laughter, the lively chatter, and the sizzling hum emanating from the kitchen intertwined, painting Kumamoto's most heartwarming nocturnal masterpiece.
Looking at the individuals surrounding him, Hiroshi's heart swelled with boundless gratitude. Transmigrating into this world and encountering such a spectacular family and cherished friends—it was his ultimate blessing.
He comprehended that multitudes of challenges awaited his arrival in Tokyo: the Doraemon anime adaptations, casting for the live-action Midnight Diner series, overseeing TV Station campaign promotions...
But he also knew, irrespective of the obstacles that lurked ahead, he had a steadfast community supporting him. This warmth born in Kumamoto would accompany him on his journey, guiding him toward an even brighter horizon.