novelraw Chapter 232: Back to Tokyo! The Storm of the Economic Bubble! Nohara Hiroshi's Determination!
Chapter 232: Back to Tokyo! The Storm of the Economic Bubble! Nohara Hiroshi's Determination!
The night breeze at Kumamoto Airport was exceptionally chilly, carrying a hint of coastal saltiness and making the shadows of the streetlamps in the parking lot sway gently.
At 10:30 PM, the terminal building glowed like a giant piece of warm jade. Its glass facade reflected the scattered stars in the night sky, and even the airplanes on the apron gleamed with a cold, white light.
The Koyama family and Fujiwara Isshin stood by the railing outside the departure hall, mostly silent.
Takasae gripped her cloth bag so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her gaze was glued to a taxiing plane in the distance — the flight carrying Nohara Hiroshi and Misae. The red lights on its wings pulsed like two slowly beating hearts as it inched toward the end of the runway.
"Phew..." Musae suddenly let out a soft sigh, slightly unable to hide her dismay. She stood on her tiptoes, straining to lean toward the plane, the Kumamon charm on her schoolbag swinging back and forth. "I can't believe Brother-in-law and Misae-san actually left... We were just eating grilled mackerel at the izakaya last week, and now they're already flying back to Tokyo."
She looked down, tugging at the charm's ear, her tone growing even more dejected. "I hadn't even finished reading the final chapters of YuYu Hakusho... I thought I could sneak a few more pages of the manuscript... Now if I want to read the manga early, there's no one to give it to me."
"Manga, manga — that's all you think about!"
Beside her, Koyama Yoshiharu shot her a fierce glare, his voice involuntarily rising. The woolen hat in his hands was squeezed out of shape. "If your trial exam scores drop out of the top hundred for your grade next semester, I swear I'll confiscate all your comic books! You're seventeen years old! Putting all your focus on these useless things — how are you going to get into a university? Do you think you can make a living reading manga?"
Scolded, Musae's shoulders shrank. She immediately pouted, her eyes tearing up slightly, but still muttered defiantly under her breath, "Manga isn't useless... Brother-in-law became a contracted author for Shueisha through manga, and even filmed a live-action version of Midnight Diner. Tons of people love it..."
"You dare talk back?" Koyama Yoshiharu felt his molars grinding. He couldn't help but reach out to smack her head but was pulled back by Takasae."Koyama Yoshiharu! Why are you squabbling with a child!" Koyama Takasae glared at him, then patted Musae's hair, softening her tone. "Musae's just sad to see Hiroshi and Misae go. That's why she's saying these things."
Masae, who had been quiet until now, knelt down gently to be at eye level with Musae. She pointed to the accelerating plane in the distance — the roar of its engines now faintly audible, its wing lights drawing a pale red line in the night.
"Musae, don't be upset."
Masae's voice was gentle, as soft as the evening sea breeze. "If you can make the top fifty in your next trial exam, I'll take you to Tokyo for summer vacation. We can visit Brother-in-law's production department and ask him to save you the latest Doraemon manuscripts. We can even check out Misae-san's comic club. Who knows, Kobayashi-san might even draw an exclusive Kumamon illustration just for you."
"Really, Big Sis?"
Musae's head shot up, her eyes instantly shining. Her previous melancholy vanished into thin air. She grabbed Masae's sleeve and shook it vigorously: "Do you mean it? You're not tricking me! If I get into the top fifty, you'll really take me to Tokyo to see Brother-in-law?"
"Of course I mean it." Masae smiled and nodded, reaching out to wipe a stray tear from the corner of Musae's eye. "When have I ever lied to you? But the condition is you have to study hard. If you don't make the grade, then the trip is off."
"I can definitely do it!" Musae immediately stood up straight, clenching her fists. The listlessness completely disappeared from her face, and even her voice became crisper. "Starting tomorrow, I'll wake up early to memorize vocabulary, and I won't read manga at night! I will definitely make the top fifty! And then I'll get Brother-in-law to sign an autograph for me, so I can show it off to the girls in the school's manga club and make them completely jealous!"
Seeing her instant revival, both Takasae and Masae smiled.
Koyama Yoshiharu curled his lip beside them, muttering, "Kids are so easy to placate." However, the anger in his eyes had subsided considerably. He looked up at the plane — the silver passenger jet had already lifted off, its red wing lights gradually turning into a small dot against the distant night sky, soon to blend in with the stars.
"Hmph. What's so great about Tokyo anyway?"
Koyama Yoshiharu suddenly spoke up, his voice tinged with a hint of defiance, yet hiding an unacknowledged fondness. "Too many people, too many cars. Squeezing into the subway for the commute is like going to war. Even eating a bowl of tonkotsu ramen requires a half-hour wait in line. It's nothing like Kumamoto. Playing shogi in the park in the morning, going home for hot soup at noon, and having a couple of drinks with old friends at the izakaya in the evening. How comfortable is that."
Koyama Takasae knew he was just reluctant to part with Misae and didn't call him out on it. She just patted his arm gently. "True, but young people always need to venture out and face the world. Following Hiroshi to Tokyo and running a comic club she loves is a good thing for Misae. And if we ever miss her, it's just a three-hour Shinkansen ride away. It's not like we'll never see her."
"Exactly, Dad," Masae chimed in. "When Isshin and I go to Tokyo to coordinate Prefectural Office business later on, we can also visit Misae and Hiroshi. Hiroshi said that once the Doraemon anime is complete, they'll hold a premiere in Kumamoto. They'll definitely be back for that."
Fujiwara Isshin, standing nearby and quietly watching the direction the plane had vanished, finally spoke. His tone was steady: "Uncle, Auntie, please rest assured. Hiroshi-san and I have already agreed — if there's any progress on Kumamon's IP development, I'll page him immediately. If Misae-san's comic club needs any source materials from Kumamoto, the Prefectural Office will also help coordinate. We won't let her feel any inconvenience in Tokyo."
Koyama Yoshiharu nodded and didn't say anything more. He just glanced one last time toward the night sky where the plane had disappeared before slowly turning around. "Alright, the plane is gone. Time for us to head home. Musae has school tomorrow, and Takasae and I need to go to the company to check on the newly arrived Kumamon merchandise samples."
"Mhm, let's go home." Koyama Takasae took his arm, while taking Musae's hand. "Musae, don't forget to wake up early tomorrow to memorize vocabulary. Don't go back on your word."
"Got it, Mom!" Musae skipped along behind them, the Kumamon charm on her bag swinging again. "I'll be up at six for sure, and Big Sis will supervise me!"
The group slowly made their way to the parking lot.
The night breeze continued to blow. The airport streetlamps stretched their shadows long across the ground before they slowly overlapped.
Two cars successively exited the parking lot and drove along the coastal highway toward home.
The night outside the car windows was deep. Occasionally, the lights of a 24-hour convenience store could be seen, the Kumamon figures placed outside looking particularly welcoming under the illumination.
Musae sat in the back, leaning against the window and watching the passing streetscape. She suddenly whispered, "Mom, do you think Brother-in-law and Misae-san are currently thinking about us on the plane?"
Koyama Takasae turned around, patted her head, and smiled. "Of course they are. Misae has never left home for this long since she was little;
she's definitely missing us. But she's with Hiroshi, doing what she loves. We should be happy for her."
"Mhm!" Musae nodded emphatically. Then, remembering something, her eyes lit up again. "When I go to Tokyo for summer vacation, I'm going to draw Kumamon manga with Misae-san and have Brother-in-law teach me storyboarding! Who knows, maybe I can become a manga artist in the future too, just as awesome as Brother-in-law!"
Hearing this from the passenger seat, Koyama Yoshiharu couldn't help but chuckle. Despite maintaining a stern expression, his tone was much softer: "If you can truly become a manga artist, you won't even need to test for university — but the prerequisite is you must first crack the top fifty in your grade;
otherwise, it's all just empty talk."
"Dad!" Musae grumbled in dissatisfaction, though she wasn't truly angry, instead whispering again under her breath, "I'll definitely make the top fifty and show you!"
Everyone in the car laughed. The night breeze slipped through the cracks in the windows, bringing a hint of salty ocean tang and a faint scent of cherry blossoms.
It was likely from the cherry trees lining the road, quietly shedding their petals.
Fujiwara Isshin drove steadily along the coastal highway. The distant sea horizon shimmered faintly in the night. Occasionally, the light of a fishing boat cut across the water's surface, like a moving star.
The corners of his mouth curled into a gentle smile.
He recalled the 'Kumamoto Future Development Plan' he had discussed with Hiroshi-san earlier that afternoon, the Governor's words about 'giving Kumamoto's youth a reason to stay locally,' and Musae's proclamation just now about 'becoming a manga artist.' He suddenly felt that perhaps Hiroshi-san was right: Kumamoto's future lay not only in IP development and tourism but also in these young people with dreams. Whether they stayed in Kumamoto or ventured out to Tokyo, as long as they were doing what they loved, that would be the best return on Kumamoto's investment.
Everything was progressing splendidly.
The car continued onward, soon turning off the coastal highway and into a familiar residential area.
There were increasingly more cherry trees by the roadside. Occasionally, petals landed on the car windows, dislodged by a single light touch.
"We're almost home," Koyama Yoshiharu remarked, looking at the familiar streets. "I'll go to the company in the morning. You go to the supermarket and buy some strawberries so Musae can have some after memorizing her vocabulary. She'll need to replenish her energy."
"Alright, understood," Koyama Takasae nodded, patting Musae's head again. "Musae, stop humming. We're almost home, get ready to get out."
Musae stopped humming, rubbed her eyes, and perked up again: "I'll definitely finish memorizing fifty words tomorrow!"
The car finally parked at the entrance to the Koyama family's alley. Fujiwara Isshin stepped out first to open the door for Takasae, while Masae also parked her car and came over to help Musae with her bag.
Koyama Yoshiharu took the lead into the alleyway, his steps somewhat lighter than on the way to the airport — perhaps anticipating looking at Kumamon merchandise samples tomorrow, or perhaps thinking about Musae's determination to break into the top fifty.
"Isshin-san, thank you for driving us today," Koyama Takasae paused at the door to express her gratitude. "Please drive safely on your way back."
"You're too kind, Auntie," Fujiwara Isshin bowed respectfully. "I will. Please rest assured."
Masae also bid him goodbye: "See you tomorrow then."
"Understood. I'll see you tomorrow," Fujiwara Isshin nodded, glanced once more at the Koyama family threshold, and turned to get back into his car and leave.
Koyama Yoshiharu unlatched the front door. Instantly, warm yellow light spilled from the house, illuminating the bluestone slab in the entryway.
Takasae led Musae inside. Changing her shoes, she instructed, "Musae, hurry up and wash so you can go to sleep. Wake up early for your vocabulary tomorrow;
don't be late."
"Got it, Mom!" Musae switched her shoes and bolted upstairs with her bag. "I definitely won't be late tomorrow!"
Masae, having also changed her shoes, addressed her parents, "Dad, Mom, I'm heading upstairs too. I need to review my work notes early tomorrow."
"Go on then, don't stay up too late," Takasae nodded. Taking Yoshiharu's jacket, she added, "You must be exhausted after a long day too. Go wash up and rest;
you have company business tomorrow."
Koyama Yoshiharu nodded. Walking over, he sat down by the sofa in the living room. He glanced at the family portrait hanging on the wall — in the photo, Misae was still in her high school uniform, Musae clutched a Kumamon plushie, Masae stood in the middle, while he and Takasae sat on either side, all beaming radiantly.
He let out a soft sigh, followed inevitably by a smile. Even if Misae was in Tokyo, as long as she was doing what she loved, and as long as the family could still meet frequently, that was enough.
Besides, summer vacation was only three months away. If Musae indeed made the top fifty, the entire family might gather in Tokyo. He could have a few drinks with Hiroshi again and discuss Kumamon's newest developments.
Outside the window, the cherry tree continued to shed its petals. Occasionally, one drifted indoors to land on the family portrait frame.
Koyama Takasae brought over a cup of warm green tea and placed it before Yoshiharu. "Stop fretting. Drink some tea and rest early. Misae has Hiroshi looking after her in Tokyo;
she'll be alright."
Picking up the teacup, Koyama Yoshiharu took a sip. The warm tea cascaded smoothly down his throat, prompting a sigh of immense comfort.
He looked at the night outside, then at the family portrait again, saying softly, "Yes, she'll be alright. Our Kumamoto kids will live well, no matter where they go."
The night deepened. The lights in the Koyama house gradually went out, leaving only a small lamp in the living room, its reflection caught in the teacup on the table and the family portrait on the wall.
The cherry tree at the entrance to the alley continued to sway gently, petals carpeting the bluestone slab like a delicate layer of faint pink snow.
Meanwhile, high above Tokyo, the plane carrying Nohara Hiroshi and Misae soared steadily onwards.
Misae rested against Hiroshi's shoulder, peering at the night sky outside the window. She whispered, "Hiroshi, do you think Mom, Dad, and Musae have reached home by now?"
Holding her hand, the warmth lingering at his fingertips, Hiroshi smiled: "They're definitely home. Your mother is so meticulous;
she'll take excellent care of Musae and Uncle. Once we arrive in Tokyo, we'll give them a call tomorrow to let them know we're safe."
"Mhm." Misae nodded. Leaning against his shoulder, she slowly closed her eyes, a faint smile gracing her lips. She recognized that whether in Kumamoto or Tokyo, as long as she had family and Hiroshi, wherever she was, was home.
The plane forged ahead, cutting through the night sky toward Tokyo. The red lights on its wings blazed exceptionally bright in the darkness, resembling a guiding star, or perhaps a seed infused with dreams and warmth, preparing to blossom anew on Tokyo soil.
...
It was 3:00 AM in Tokyo, still steeped in the lingering, chaotic remnants of the late-stage bubble economy.
As the taxi navigated the corners of Ginza, most of the neon signs outside the window remained brilliantly illuminated. The 'Matsuya' and 'Mitsukoshi Department Store' signs cast a warm yellow glow against the night. Occasionally, salarymen in suits stumbled out from izakayas, violently emptying their stomachs onto the sidewalks—a truly majestic spectacle.
Nohara Hiroshi reclined in the back of the taxi, half a lit Seven Stars cigarette pinched between his fingers. The smoke condensed a thin layer of fog against the car window.
Misae's head was resting on his shoulder. She was breathing light, shallow breaths, fast asleep. In her hand, she tightly clutched the paper bag of strawberry daifuku brought from Kumamoto — a token from Koyama Takasae, meant to curb her hunger on the plane. In the end, she couldn't bring herself to eat it during the ride, holding it until the paper had wrinkled.
"Sir, we've arrived at the apartment building of your destination." The taxi driver's voice pulled Hiroshi back from his thoughts. The older man glanced at him through the rearview mirror, chuckled, and pointed out the window. "Your girlfriend is sleeping soundly. She didn't even stir when we passed through the tunnel."
Hiroshi put out his cigarette and gently supported Misae's head, moving with utmost care. "Please wait a moment while I help her out."
He retrieved his wallet to pay the fare, then grabbed the suitcase positioned by their feet. It contained her manga tools, local specialties from the Koyama family, and a few changes of Hiroshi's clothes.
When Misae was gently shaken awake, her eyes were still groggy. Only after rubbing the corners of her eyes did she see the apartment building outside. "Are we in Tokyo?" Her voice was soft, carrying a sleepy nasal tone. "I feel like I only slept a bit on the plane... how are we here already."
"Let's head inside;
it's chilly out." Hiroshi tugged her scarf tighter and held her hand as they walked to the apartment entrance.
The sound-activated lights in the hallway flared to life at their footsteps, a cascade of warm yellow ascending from floor to floor, tossing their shadows onto the walls.
Upon opening the door, a familiar woody scent enveloped them, instantly soothing both their minds and bodies.
Their spirits fully relaxed.
"Home is the most comfortable place after all." Misae kicked off her shoes and swapped them for slippers. She placed the strawberry daifuku on the coffee table and collapsed onto the sofa, granting an expansive stretch. "Even though Kumamoto was fun, it just feels freer here — oh, Hiroshi. Where did I put my manga tools in the cabinets? I don't think I organized them the last time I returned..."
Hiroshi smiled as he dragged in the suitcase. "They are in the second cabinet in the bedroom. I packed them away for you. Don't worry about the tools for now. Hurry up, wash up, and get to sleep. You need to drop off manuscripts at Shueisha at noon tomorrow." Seeing Misae yawning continuously, he couldn't help but ruffle her hair. "Hurry and go to sleep. I'll join you after I put the luggage away."
By the time Hiroshi had stowed the suitcase's contents and walked into the bedroom freshly showered, Misae was already fast asleep, hugging a pillow. A faint smile lingered on the corners of her mouth, revealing she was having a sweet dream.
He gently pulled the blanket over her and lay down beside her, staring at the chandelier on the ceiling. Being away from Tokyo for these two weeks, there seemed to be a never-ending stream of tasks—from the Kumamon IP liaison, to meeting Governor Muto, to spending time with the Koyama family. Now, finally back here, he felt an almost surreal sense of groundedness.
Embracing Misae, Nohara Hiroshi eventually drifted into a deep sleep himself.
It was unclear how much time had passed, but the sky outside gradually brightened. Dawn's glow seeped through a gap in the curtains, casting narrow bands of light across the floor.
Hiroshi slept profoundly, only awakened shortly past noon by the "rumbling" grumbles emanating from his stomach.
He executed a satisfying stretch, his bones emitting a slight "crack." Turning his head, he observed Misae, her eyes wide open, watching him with a beaming smile.
"Hiroshi, you're awake?"
Misae's hair was somewhat messy, her cheeks sporting the flush of someone who had just woken up. "I've been awake for a while. Seeing you sleep so soundly, I didn't want to wake you — however, it seems we're both famished. My stomach was growling ferociously earlier."
Hiroshi chuckled at her antics and reached out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind her ear. "I am absolutely starving. We only had that lukewarm bento on the flight last night;
now I'm craving something hot. What would you like?"
"I want Ginza teppanyaki!" Misae's eyes sparkled as she sat up and leaned closer. "You took me there once before. The steak that chef prepares is extraordinarily tender, and the omelet with cheese inside is insanely delicious! Shall we go today?"
"Alright." Hiroshi nodded and rose from bed. "Hurry up and wash up then, and I'll go get the car — moreover, do you want to check on your comic club this afternoon? It's a prime opportunity to inform everyone about coordinating the Kumamon merchandise design with the Prefectural Office."
"Yes, yes, I want to go!" Misae sprang out of bed and rushed to the bathroom. "It's the perfect chance to discuss new coloring schemes with Kobayashi-san. The Kumamon she drew last time was incredibly cute;
it's a guaranteed fit for the merchandise!"
Half an hour later, Hiroshi drove his Toyota Crown out of the residential complex.
He bought the car upon winning an award for Seven Samurai last year. The black exterior gleamed;
even after being parked for two weeks, only a thin layer of dust coated it, which the wind promptly blew away.
Misae sat in the passenger seat, holding a Doraemon manga volume, occasionally glancing out at the passing streetscape. Noon in Tokyo was bustling—the entrances to department stores in Ginza were crowded. Schoolgirls in uniforms carried ice cream, while office workers hurried in and out of convenience stores for lunch. It was a stark contrast to the leisurely pace of Kumamoto.
"Hiroshi, look at that dessert shop!" Misae pointed at a 'Fujiya' sign outside. "Next time we go back to Kumamoto, how about we bring a strawberry cake for Musae? She mentioned wanting one last time."
"Sure, we'll purchase one next time we go back for a weekend." Hiroshi smiled and nodded, turning the steering wheel toward the teppanyaki restaurant.
Roughly twenty minutes later, the car came to a stop in front of "Kikuya," a teppanyaki restaurant in Ginza. Boasting a twenty-year history, owner Kikuchi was an acquaintance of Hiroshi. This was the exact location where they hosted the Tales of the Unusual wrap party.
Upon pushing the wooden door open, the distinct aroma of teppanyaki flooded out.
Quite a few customers were already seated. Seeing Hiroshi, owner Kikuchi immediately greeted him with a smile: "Hiroshi-san! Long time no see! This must be Misae-san, right? You visited once before;
I recall you fancying the cheese omelet!"
"Hello, Kikuchi-san!" Misae bowed cheerfully. "I'd like to trouble you for the cheese omelet again today, along with steak, medium rare please!"
"No problem!" Kikuchi escorted them to a window seat and handed them menus. "Take a look first while I prepare the teppan;
I guarantee you'll leave satisfied!"
Hiroshi ordered two portions of steak, one cheese omelet, and a serving of grilled shrimp. Just as he handed back the menu, animated chatter erupted from an adjacent table.
It was a group of four—two men and two women—who appeared to be friends. Seated in front of the teppan slightly distant from them, they were conversing enthusiastically around a platter of grilled squid.
"Did you hear? Mayor Tanaka Mikami held a campaign rally at Senso-ji Temple yesterday. He swore that if re-elected, he'll drive real estate development around Ginza, erecting three ultra-high-rise apartment buildings!"
The speaker was a suited man, roughly forty, clutching a beer mug, his tone suffused with excitement. "The apartment I bought in Ginza last year has already appreciated by two million yen! If Tanaka-san truly pushes development, who knows, maybe it'll surge again next year!"
"Really?" A kimono-clad woman beside him, visibly a housewife, leaned in eagerly. "My husband bought a small apartment in Shinjuku last year. Now, the monthly rent covers half the mortgage. If values rise further, we might be capable of paying off the loan sooner!"
"Exactly!"
Another man, sporting glasses and looking like a small business owner, joined the fray. "Tanaka-san's policies are practical! Unlike Shimazu Yoshihiro, who constantly harps on 'livelihood improvement'—raising the minimum wage, constructing nursing homes... How are these more concrete than real estate? For us common folk, asset appreciation is our true hope for a better life!"
"You can't precisely say that."
The last individual, an elderly man with gray hair, intervened. Cradling a teacup, his tone remained steady. "Shimazu-san announced on TV that he intends to condense Tokyo's commute time to under an hour while building more schools and hospitals in the suburbs. My grandson presently attends school in Chiba;
he endures a two-hour train ride daily. Constructing more schools would substantially benefit his education."
"Grandpa, you just don't understand!" The suited man immediately countered. "Schools and hospitals can be built whenever;
however, if we squander this real estate opportunity, it's gone indefinitely! Simply look at Tokyo's housing prices—they ascend perpetually. If you neglect buying now, you'll never be able to afford it later! Tanaka-san declared he desires every Tokyo resident to 'profit through property'. That exhibits true concern for the populace!"
"I completely concur!" The kimono-clad woman nodded. "My neighbor's daughter married a real estate agent last year. Now they reside in a massive apartment in Minato Ward and she drives to work. How remarkably glamorous! Should Tanaka-san enact development, perhaps we could inhabit homes of that caliber!"
"Yet, Shimazu-san stated that the current real estate frenzy is a bubble. Blindly erecting buildings means that when the bubble inevitably bursts, everyone's assets will depreciate!"
The elderly man stood his ground. "I endured the post-war economic crisis in my youth;
'unhealthy' economies are unreliable. Only tangible livelihood policies are effective. For instance, raising pensions so elders like myself can comfortably retire—isn't that more paramount than property appreciation?"
"Grandpa, your mindset is obsolete!"
The small business owner chuckled while shaking his head. "What era is this? This marks the zenith of Japan's economic prosperity! How could real estate be a bubble? Observe Sato Tokugawa from the Kirin Group. He built ten apartment complexes last year;
didn't they all sell at lightning speed? With immense corporations like these backing Tanaka-san, he will unquestionably bolster Tokyo's economy profoundly!"
"Exactly!"
The suited man took a long swig of beer, sounding even more swaggering. "When I visited the bank last month, the account manager notified me it's the optimal time to secure a mortgage. Interest rates are minimal, housing prices are soaring rapidly, and within a few years, investments could double! If Shimazu-san becomes mayor, he might impose real estate restrictions;
we'd lose our chance to profit entirely!"
Her curiosity piqued, Misae gently tugged at Hiroshi's sleeve and inquired softly: "Hiroshi, the Tanaka Mikami and Shimazu Yoshihiro they're mentioning... they're running for Tokyo Mayor, correct? You mentioned previously that you support Shimazu-san, isn't that right?"
Hiroshi nodded, carefully peeling the shell off a freshly served grilled shrimp and placing it in her bowl. "Yes. Shimazu-san is the President of TV Tokyo. When I was filming Seven Samurai, he offered substantial support. Furthermore, his policies are more aligned with the people's needs—like reducing commute times and erecting more schools and hospitals. These are what ordinary citizens genuinely require."
"But they just stated that Tanaka's policies will enable property appreciation, and it seems everyone vigorously supports him." Misae bit into the grilled shrimp, speaking softly. "I don't comprehend these matters profoundly, but Shimazu-san's policies sound warmer. Similar to your Midnight Diner manga;
although it lacks grandiose elements, it makes people feel incredibly comfortable."
Hiroshi couldn't refrain from laughing, gently flicking her fair nose with his finger. "Our Misae is truly perceptive;
assessing the core issue immediately. Real estate appreciation is merely temporary;
akin to a bubble, it's prone to burst instantly. However, livelihood policies genuinely enhance everyone's lives. But you needn't worry about these intricacies;
focus on enjoying your meal. After dropping you off at the comic club this afternoon, I'll head to the TV station and confer with Bureau Chief Sakata regarding campaign promotion."
"Mhm!"
Misae nodded emphatically, raising a piece of steak to Hiroshi's lips on her fork. "You eat too, Hiroshi. This steak is phenomenally tender—even more delicious than the basashi in Kumamoto!"
Hiroshi opened his mouth and accepted the bite. Surveying Misae's joyous expression, a trace of unease subtly crept into his mind.
The dialogue from the adjacent table authentically represented the prevailing sentiment of the vast majority of Tokyo residents.
Under the current economic climate, everyone was intoxicated by real estate's illusory prosperity, believing that merely purchasing a house guaranteed wealth, entirely oblivious to the impending crisis.
Tanaka's policies perfectly catered to this mentality. Conversely, while Shimazu aimed for long-term sustainability, his approach lacked "excitement," rendering him noticeably less appealing.
'Although I don't give a damn about Japan's economy... ultimately, Shimazu Yoshihiro is backed by TV Tokyo. We cannot merely stand by.' Nohara Hiroshi stroked his chin, internally upholding his support for Shimazu Yoshihiro.
Despite introducing the concept of the "Information Cocoon," Shimazu Yoshihiro's public reputation still paled in comparison to Tanaka Mikami.
This was profoundly problematic.
"Hiroshi-san, your cheese omelet is ready!"
Just as Nohara Hiroshi was lost in rumination, Kikuchi delivered a plate of golden omelet dusted with chopped nori. "Try it! I doubled the cheese, exactly as you requested last time!"
"Thank you, Kikuchi-san." Misae instantly grabbed her fork, placed a piece in her mouth, and her eyes sparkled vibrantly. "Wow! Delicious! So much cheese, and it's so gooey! You must try it, Hiroshi!"
"Mhm, okay." Smiling, Hiroshi took a bite. The aroma of cheese bloomed in his mouth;
it was indeed delectable.
Yet, his focus wasn't entirely on the meal.
He comprehended that this Tokyo mayoral election surpassed a simple contest between two individuals;
it represented a clash of ideologies: to persist in indulging in real estate's illusory prosperity, or to pragmatically focus on livelihood development.
As an affiliate of TV Tokyo and a supporter of Shimazu, he was obligated to act. He had to ensure more people witnessed the intrinsic value of Shimazu's policies.
"What are you thinking about, Hiroshi?" Noticing his distraction, Misae whispered, "Are you worried about matters at the TV station? If you're busy, you needn't escort me to the comic club this afternoon;
I can catch the train independently."
"Nothing significant, just pondering over some work-related issues." Hiroshi snapped out of his reverie and shook his head with a smile. "I'm not overloaded. Dropping you off at the comic club before heading to the TV station provides ample time. Hurry up and eat;
the omelet won't taste good if it turns cold."
Misae nodded and resumed eating intently, occasionally offering Hiroshi a piece of steak or chatting briefly about the comic club. "Last time, Kobayashi-san drew an illustration of Kumamon clasping strawberry daifuku. It was unbelievably adorable! Printing it on a keychain would definitely sell out. Also, Sato-san desires to draw a manga series showing Kumamon in Tokyo—visiting Tokyo Tower, Senso-ji Temple—which would promote Kumamon whilst simultaneously making Tokyo residents adore it even more."
"That's a fantastic idea." Hiroshi nodded. "During our next coordination with the Kumamoto Prefectural Office, you can propose these concepts. You might even secure additional collaboration funds. Ah, furthermore, if your comic club currently needs assistance, just notify me at any time. I can deploy two individuals from the production department."
"No need!" Misae swiftly waved her hand. "Our club has incredibly capable members. Kobayashi-san's coloring techniques are improving exponentially, and Sato-san's storyboards are spectacular. There's zero need to trouble the production department staff. Besides, we aspire to accomplish this project independently—simulating how you produced Yamishibai on your own. We want to utilize our own strength to forge something impressive."
Observing her intense determination, Hiroshi felt immensely gratified.
Although Misae appeared somewhat carefree, she possessed strong convictions and resilience.
Her insistence on managing the comic club autonomously, refusing continuous reliance on his assistance, only magnified his admiration for her unyielding spirit.
The discussion at the adjacent table persisted. The suited man enthusiastically declared how much his properties had appreciated;
the kimono-clad woman schemed to purchase another minor apartment;
the elderly man continually muttered about the importance of livelihood policies;
while the small business owner deliberated on collaborating for property development with Sato Tokugawa.
Listening to these exchanges, Hiroshi attained absolute clarity.
Contemporary Tokyo functioned exactly like an inflating balloon. Everyone reveled in the euphoria induced by the expansion, entirely oblivious to the microscopic fissures manifesting on its surface.
"I'm full, Hiroshi!" Misae set her fork down, patting her rounded belly. "So stuffed! Even fuller than after the farewell feast in Kumamoto!"
"As long as you're full." Hiroshi settled the bill and guided Misae out of the establishment. "Let's head to the comic club now. It's an opportune moment for you to update everyone regarding Kumamon."
Exiting the teppanyaki restaurant, they were met by pristine Ginza sunlight, warming their bodies affectionately.
Misae skipped joyfully ahead, pointing toward the cherry trees lining the street. "Look, Hiroshi! Tokyo's cherry blossoms bloom slightly later than Kumamoto's;
they haven't withered yet! Next time we can bring Musae here to view the cherry blossoms and indulge in Kikuchi-san's teppanyaki!"
"Definitely." Hiroshi nodded with a smile. Observing Misae's happiness, the anxiety housed in his heart momentarily receded.
Regardless of the election outcome, regardless of the imminent hardships, he resolved to firmly protect these cherished individuals, fulfilling his inherent responsibilities. Just as he conveyed while illustrating Midnight Diner: no matter the global clamor, he resolved to fiercely guard that pocket of warmth and security.
The Toyota Crown's engine roared once more, transporting the pair toward the comic club.
The Toyota Crown smoothly merged into the office district housing the Future Comic Club. April sunshine permeated the car windows, dappling the "Kumamon Design Drafts" Misae clutched.
She trailed her fingertips lightly over the paper. These were the preliminary drafts she had formulated during those late nights in Kumamoto Prefecture. Kumamon sported a strawberry daifuku-shaped hat, clutched a wooden sign reading "Welcome to Kumamoto," and its rotund belly was adorned with faint pink cherry blossom patterns.
While her drawing skills were somewhat amateurish, they were more than sufficient.
"See here, Hiroshi? I incorporated Mount Aso's silhouette into Kumamon's scarf."
Misae turned her head, eyes sparkling with irrepressible pride. "This instantly evokes Kumamoto's scenery without appearing ostentatious. If these are manufactured as keychains, the scarf could employ flocked material, yielding a remarkably pleasant texture."
Hiroshi's gaze rested on the draft. He lightly tapped a minor detail adjacent to Kumamon's foot—a diminutive Doraemon holding the Anywhere Door while beaming toward Kumamon.
A smile inadvertently tugged at the corners of his mouth. "This crossover is brilliantly executed. It isn't jarring and inventively harnesses Doraemon's popularity to elevate Kumamon. Once you arrive at the comic club, instruct everyone that if the Prefectural Office queries your design logic, highlight these intricacies. They'll unequivocally approve."
"Mhm!" Misae nodded with vigor, meticulously folding the drafts and stowing them safely in her bag as if guarding a treasured relic. "I also plan to notify everyone that commencing next week, we'll allocate two evenings for overtime. Our goal is to finalize all merchandise designs preceding the end of the month. Governor Muto desires to exhibit them at next month's Kumamoto Tourism Promotion Conference;
we fundamentally cannot squander any time."
During their conversation, the vehicle had already parked directly beneath the "Future Comic Club" office building.
Hiroshi rented this office building for Misae last year, positioned in a relatively placid neighborhood. The third floor housed the vast comic club area;
it boasted sublime lighting and a diminutive balcony where members could occasionally sunbathe while dissecting storyboards.
Hiroshi assisted Misae with her seatbelt and retrieved Koyama Takasae's dried horse meat from the trunk—an item Misae explicitly intend to distribute amongst the club members.
"Head upstairs;
I'll come pick you up tonight." He ruffled Misae's hair, his tone instinctively softening. "If you stumble upon any insurmountable problems, call me immediately. Provided I'm free, I'll be here instantly."
"Understood!" Misae elevated onto her tiptoes, delivered a swift kiss to his cheek, then sprinted toward the office building, bag in hand. After venturing a few steps, she turned abruptly, waving her arms and yelling, "Drive safely, Hiroshi! Tonight, we'll dine on your favorite tonkotsu ramen!"
"Alright." Hiroshi beamed, observing her figure vanish within the building before settling back into the car, igniting the engine, and steering toward TV Tokyo.
The drive from here to Chuo Ward, housing TV Tokyo, required circa ten minutes.
En route, numerous "Real Estate Agency" signboards caught his attention. Glass doors were plastered with posters promoting "Minato Ward Luxury Apartments" and "Shinjuku Tower Floor Plans." The prices were incredibly exorbitant, yet suited salarymen still swarmed the agencies, chattering energetically—this synthesized the Tokyo bubble economy's final stage. Everyone was entirely submerged in a carnival predicated on "asset appreciation," entirely unwilling to halt their momentum.
Gripping the steering wheel, Hiroshi swept his tranquil gaze over those posters.
He recognized that this carnival wouldn't endure. Within two years, upon the bubble bursting, the vast majority of these individuals currently scrambling to purchase homes would find themselves suffocated by crushing mortgages.
However, he couldn't alter the inevitable. He could only guarantee that those nearest to him were adequately prepared before the impending storm crashed ashore.