novelraw Chapter 239: It's Settled! This Kind of Food Documentary! Nohara Hiroshi's Direct Understanding of Food!
Chapter 239: It's Settled! This Kind of Food Documentary! Nohara Hiroshi's Direct Understanding of Food!
The small meeting room on the third floor of Kanto Station felt even more cramped than the large one. The edges of the wooden desks and chairs near the window were polished shiny from use, and there was a poorly wiped coffee stain on the corner of the table—judging by the color, it looked like it was from last week.
The accompanying staff from Tokyo Station were squeezed inside, gripping Kanto Station's ledgers. The pages were being flipped loudly, and the faint scent of Uji tea floated in the air, though the tea itself had long since gone cold.
The first to break the silence was Hashimoto Ichiro. Pinching the "Kanto Station Documentary Viewership Ratings for the Past Three Years" segment within the ledger, his brow furrowed deeply enough to crush a mosquito: "Everyone, is Manager Nohara… serious? A humanities documentary? How long has it been since our Tokyo Station touched this stuff? The last time a senior colleague filmed 'Old-Fashioned Love Under the Ancient Cherry Blossoms,' the viewership rating was only 3.2%, and in the end, the station criticized it as a 'waste of budget.'"
His words, like a pebble thrown into water, immediately stirred up a discussion.
Ito Kenji leaned back in his chair, twirling a fountain pen in his hand, his tone carrying a bit of perplexity: "Exactly! Hashimoto-kun, think about it, what are we producing right now? 'Kasou Taishou' has viewership ratings exceeding 40%, 'Tales of the Unusual' is stable at over 20%, and even reruns of the 'Midnight Diner' TV drama can achieve a 10% viewership rating. Documentaries cost money and time, and nobody watches them when they're finished. Why bother?"
Sitting in the corner, Ashikaga Takashi put down the ledger, his tone carrying his usual arrogance: "I don't think documentaries are inherently bad, but given Kanto Station's current situation, where do they have the capital to mess around? They can barely turn on their video cameras for local news, let alone film a documentary? Besides, samurai films and heartwarming dramas are the ones that can carry viewership ratings. With this kind of slow-paced content, the audience will have changed channels long ago."
Director Sato sitting next to him also nodded in agreement. He had spent two years at Kanto Station before and was familiar with the situation here: "Ashikaga-san is right! Ten years ago, when Kanto Station filmed 'Kanto Folklore Travelogue,' Matsui-san and his team camped out for three months, and what was the result? The viewership rating didn't even reach 2.3%. In the end, the board of directors directly axed the project and cut the production department's budget in half. Now Manager Nohara is asking them to film another documentary;
isn't this jumping into a fire pit?"
Director Watanabe also furrowed his brow, flipping through the preliminary proposal for 'A Bite of Neon': "And then there's this name, 'A Bite of Neon'? It sounds like a food show, but the proposal mentions filming 'people,' like old craftsmen and fishermen. Is it a food documentary or a character documentary? Will the audience dislike it when they watch it? Furthermore, City TV is currently filming 'Tokyo Suburbs Visit,' hosted by Kamiki Shunsuke, whom young people love to follow. If we clash with their subject matter, can we compete?"
The atmosphere in the meeting room grew increasingly heavy, as everyone chimed in with pessimistic remarks.
Hashimoto Ichiro sighed. Recalling how he had hit a dead end after betraying Hiroshi, and how Hiroshi had brought him back to the Production Bureau regardless of past grievances, he felt a bit uncomfortable. "It's not that I don't trust Manager Nohara, it's just that... the risk this time is simply too great. If Kanto Station collapses, those of us who came over might also be implicated."Right then, Asano Takata, who had remained silent all along, suddenly spoke up.
He gently placed the ledger in his hand on the table, still wearing that amiable smile, but his tone was very serious: "Everyone, have we forgotten something? When has Manager Nohara ever disappointed us?"
This statement instantly quieted the noisy meeting room.
Asano looked at the group and continued, "Initially, when he wanted to produce 'Yamishibai,' everyone declared 'nobody watches urban legends.' What happened? The late-night broadcasting slot viewership exceeded 12%, birthing a new genre;
currently, every television station nationwide imitates it. Subsequently producing 'Seven Samurai,' individuals proclaimed 'samurai films are obsolete.' The result? Box office revenue eclipsed 8.9 billion, prompting Senior Kurosawa Eiji to praise him for 'capturing the samurai spirit.' Furthermore, regarding 'Kasou Taishou': initially, nobody voluntarily enrolled;
he personally led Tanaka-kun conducting street promotions, ultimately transforming it into the highest-rated variety show nationwide;
Governor Koike specifically commended him for 'altering Japan's apathy.'"
He paused, picked up the 'A Bite of Neon' proposal from the table, and tapped on the 'Kanto Traditional Crafts' page: "You guys think he's just messing around by filming a documentary this time, but I think he already has a clear plan in his heart. When he makes a program, he never follows the trend;
instead, he finds what the audience truly needs. Now that the audience is used to lively variety shows and exciting TV dramas, maybe they just want to see this kind of heartwarming documentary—just like 'Midnight Diner', without big stars or grand scenes, didn't it still become popular?"
No one in the meeting room spoke anymore.
Hashimoto Ichiro recalled when he was working on "Yamishibai" with Hiroshi, Hiroshi stayed up late modifying the storyboards, not even having time to drink coffee.
Ito Kenji remembered when Hiroshi was directing the TV drama version of "Midnight Diner," he specially took them to Mizukami Sho's diner to experience the lifestyle, teaching them how to capture the subtle expressions of ordinary people.
Ashikaga Takashi recalled when he went to see the premiere of "Seven Samurai," seeing the scene of the decisive battle in the rice paddies, he almost couldn't help applauding—that camera blocking was more shocking than any period drama he had ever directed.
"Asano-san is right," Hashimoto Ichiro spoke first, his tone carrying guilt. "I was thinking too shallowly. Manager Nohara never does anything he's not confident in. Since he decided to film a documentary, he must have his reasons."
"Exactly!" Ito Kenji nodded along, his face regaining its enthusiasm. "Last time we filmed 'Midnight Diner,' he said, 'A good program isn't filmed for the judges;
it's filmed for the audience,' and it really became popular. This time, 'A Bite of Neon' might also bring us surprises."
Ashikaga Takashi snorted, but his tone softened: "Consider yourself somewhat insightful. However, if it flops, I won't speak up for him."
Everyone laughed, and the previous concerns dissipated considerably.
Director Sato smiled and said: "Even if it flops, Manager Nohara has a way to remedy it—his brain works much faster than ours. Last time a segment of 'Tales of the Unusual' had poor ratings, he changed the subsequent scripts the very next day, and the ratings for the following episode instantly jumped 3%."
Just then, the meeting room door was gently pushed open, and Yamada Takashi, Fujishita Ken, Kimura Hiroshi, Kobayashi Kijiro, and Saito Shigeru walked in.
They were there to refill tea for the Tokyo Station personnel and had heard the discussion inside from the doorway, curiosity evident on their faces.
Yamada Takashi put down the teapot in his hand and said with a smile, "Everyone was chatting very lively just now;
were you talking about Nohara-san's reform plan?"
Ito Kenji nodded, his tone carrying a bit of pride: "Yes, we were talking about 'A Bite of Neon' that Manager Nohara is going to film. Although we were a bit worried at first, we all think it can succeed now."
Fujishita Ken patted his beer belly, his eyes full of curiosity: "Speaking of which, we heard Suzuki Kiyoto-san mention Nohara-san before, saying he is exceptionally capable. The newspapers also frequently report on his achievements, like the box office success of 'Seven Samurai' and the bestselling 'Doraemon' manga. But we still want to hear your perspective—is Nohara-san really that amazing?"
With this, the Tokyo Station personnel all perked up.
Hashimoto Ichiro cleared his throat, his tone carrying respect: "Fujishita-san, you haven't worked with Manager Nohara, so you don't know how amazing he is. Let me tell you, when I made a mistake and betrayed him, and had nowhere to go, it was he who pulled me back and even let me be the Section Chief of the Animation Production Section, in charge of 'Yamishibai'."
He paused, recalling the scene at the time, his eyes full of gratitude: "At first, no one thought highly of 'Yamishibai', and the people in the Production Bureau were unwilling to participate. It was Manager Nohara who personally stayed up late drawing storyboards and applied for a budget from the station, and finally it was produced. When it aired, in the late-night slot, who would have thought the ratings would break 12%? Now 'Yamishibai' is already in its fourth season and is still very popular."
Ito Kenji also chimed in: "When I was in charge of the TV drama version of 'Midnight Diner,' at first I didn't know how to shoot it to restore the feeling of the manga. It was Manager Nohara who took us to Mizukami Sho-san's diner to let us observe the guests' expressions and listen to their stories. He also said, 'To shoot the lives of ordinary people, you have to enter their lives.' In the end, the effect was particularly good, and the audience all said, 'It's like watching things happening around us.'"
Although Ashikaga Takashi spoke little, he also added: "When he was filming 'Seven Samurai', in order to restore the scenes of the Warring States period, he specifically went to the ancient buildings in Kyoto to shoot on location, and also invited Senior Kurosawa Eiji as a consultant. There was a scene of a decisive battle in a rice paddy that was filmed for a whole week. If the weather was bad, he waited;
if the actors were not in the right state, he reshot it. He didn't make do with anything. In the end, when the film was released, Senior Kurosawa said, 'This is a real samurai film.' Do you think he's amazing or not?"
Asano Takata smiled and added: "And 'Kasou Taishou.' At first, no one was willing to sign up, so Manager Nohara took Tanaka-kun to the streets and schools to promote it, and personally designed a few simple disguise plans to teach everyone how to play. Now 'Kasou Taishou' has become the number one variety show in national ratings, even elementary school students know about this program, and the interaction between people has increased—Governor Koike even specially praised him for 'promoting Japan's social harmony.'"
Director Sato also said: "Manager Nohara is also particularly good at discovering talent. Last time Kanto Station's Honda Sakurako-chan wanted to do a 'Kanto Old Street Visit' documentary, Matsui-san thought no one would watch it and rejected the proposal. It was Manager Nohara who heard about it, specifically went to talk to Honda-chan, and said he would support her filming it. Tell me, where can you find such a leader who understands programs and knows how to treat people?"
The people of Kanto Station were dumbfounded.
Fujishita Ken opened his mouth wide, the teacup in his hand almost dropping on the table: "My God! A late-night anime breaking 12%? 'Seven Samurai' was even praised by Senior Kurosawa Eiji? This is too amazing! Nohara-san is only 23 years old. When I was 23, I was still fetching coffee for my seniors!"
Kimura Hiroshi pushed up his glasses, his tone full of emotion: "And he is both a director and a manga artist. 'YuYu Hakusho', 'Doraemon', 'Midnight Diner' are all top-tier works of Shueisha. My daughter reads 'Doraemon' every day and says she wants a robotic cat's pocket. I didn't even know the author was Nohara-san—he's so young, how can he be so energetic?"
Kobayashi Kijiro flipped through the notebook in his hand, his tone carrying admiration. "Previously, I was concerned Nohara-san's chronological youth compromised his capability managing the station's entrenched veterans;
apparently my concerns were unfounded. Acquiring Senior Kurosawa Eiji's admiration alongside Station Chief Sakata's unprecedented authorization establishing the Independent Production Department signifies possessing extraordinary capabilities."
Although Saito Shigeru didn't speak, a trace of surprise flashed through his eyes, and his grip on his pager relaxed a bit—he previously thought Hiroshi was just lucky, but now he knows that all these achievements were hard-earned through skill.
Yamada Takashi sighed, his tone carrying a bit of emotion: "Suzuki Kiyoto-san didn't lie to us;
Nohara-san is indeed a genius. But he is also very grounded. Just now in the large meeting room, he even said he wanted to figure out solutions with us, not here to command us. Such a leader is worth following."
Right at that moment, Hashimoto Ichiro suddenly revealed an ambiguous smile and lowered his voice, "Let me tell you a secret, Station Chief Sakata is particularly fond of Manager Nohara. Did you know? Manager Nohara's Independent Production Department was approved as an exception—only elite Level 2 Directors get this treatment, but he got it as a Level 3 Director. After the massive success of 'Seven Samurai' last time, Station Chief Sakata even specially added a 200 million budget to the Production Bureau, saying 'let Nohara-kun use it however he wants'."
Ito Kenji nodded along, his tone carrying a bit of mystery: "Furthermore, rumors circulate within the station proclaiming Manager Nohara constitutes Tokyo Station's literal future. Station Chief Sakata frequently communicates, 'Nohara-kun surpasses my capabilities during equivalent chronological stages.' Speculation exists connecting Station Chief Sakata's impending retirement juxtaposed against Manager Nohara subsequently inheriting the Production Bureau Chief position—analyze this proposition: 23 years old! Achieving the Bureau Chief position manifests the youngest Bureau Chief traversing Tokyo Station's entire historical timeline!"
The people from Kanto Station all widened their eyes, faces full of shock. Fujishita Ken subconsciously said: "My God! In Japan, saying someone is the 'future' means they can take over, right? Station Chief Sakata wants to hand over Tokyo Station to Nohara-san? This is incredible!"
Yamada Takashi was also shocked. Having been at the television station for thirty years, he had never seen someone so young placed with such high hopes. "There have been genius directors before, but mostly they just won a few awards. Someone like Nohara-san, groomed by the Station Chief as the future, is the first. But thinking about it, it makes sense. He's talented, grounded, and knows how to unite people;
he's indeed worth entrusting."
Kimura Hiroshi pushed up his glasses, his tone analytical: "Moreover, Nohara-san has connections with Governor Koike and Minister Hattori;
'Kasou Taishou' was praised by Governor Koike, and 'A Bite of Neon' expects support from Minister Hattori. With these people helping him, his path will be much smoother. Taking over Station Chief Sakata's position in the future isn't impossible."
Kobayashi Kijiro nodded, his pen flying across his notebook: "If Nohara-san truly represents Tokyo Station's future, aligning Kanto Station alongside his trajectory guarantees our resurgence. Provided 'A Bite of Neon' executes successfully, Kanto Station's restoration reflecting anterior glory remains probable."
Saito Shigeru finally spoke, his voice as deep as ever, but with a bit of determination: "The Technical Department will fully support this. I will requisition the best video cameras to ensure the footage shot is flawless."
The atmosphere in the meeting room grew lively. The Tokyo Station staff discussed Hiroshi's past, while the Kanto Station folks listened, their eyes filled with admiration and anticipation. Yamada Takashi smiled and said: "It looks like we didn't choose the wrong leader this time. Following Nohara-san, we will definitely make good programs."
Fujishita Ken also smiled: "Yes! Once 'A Bite of Neon' is filmed, I must show it to the owner of Asakusaya, so he knows our Kanto Station can also produce good programs. Then he will definitely be willing to cooperate with us!"
Ito Kenji patted Fujishita Ken's shoulder and smiled: "Don't worry, with Manager Nohara here, it definitely won't be a problem. We will start preparing tomorrow, try to start filming early, and show the audience our strength!"
Everyone laughed, and the air in the meeting room grew warmer. The sunlight outside the window filtered through the glass, spilling onto the ledgers and proposals on the table, as if coating this upcoming reform with a ray of hope.
Yamada Takashi refilled everyone's tea and smiled: "Everyone, the tea is cold. I'll get you a fresh hot pot. Later, after Nohara-san and Executive Director Asumi finish their meeting, we can discuss the filming details together."
Director Sato nodded, his tone carrying anticipation: "Okay! I also want to chat with Manager Nohara about the storyboards for 'A Bite of Neon' and see if I can offer some advice—I've filmed rustic themes at Kanto Station before, maybe I can help."
Ashikaga Takashi snorted, but also said: "If you need to film historical parts, like the historical background of old crafts, I can help—after all, I have more experience filming period dramas than you."
Asano Takata smiled and said: "That's great! Let's work hard together and definitely film 'A Bite of Neon' well, letting all of Japan know that our Tokyo Station and Kanto Station can make the best programs!"
The laughter in the meeting room grew louder, and the previous worries and doubts vanished, leaving only anticipation for the future. Everyone believed that under Nohara Hiroshi's leadership, Kanto Station would surely be revitalized, and 'A Bite of Neon' would undoubtedly become a memorable program for the audience.
And at this moment in the large meeting room, Hiroshi was discussing the specific filming details with Asumi and Matsui Yuichi.
He didn't know the conversation in the small meeting room, but he could feel the growing enthusiasm in the air—he knew this reform already had a good start.
The autumn wind outside the window was still blowing, but this time, what blew into the Kanto Station office building was no longer bleakness and despair, but the power of hope.
...
The sunlight in Kanto Station's large meeting room slanted in, falling on the spread-out white paper, pulling the shadow of Nohara Hiroshi holding a pencil very long.
His HB pencil scratched across the paper, the rustling sound mixing with the rustling of sycamore leaves outside the window, which was more reassuring than the hum of the air conditioner.
Within a few minutes, the originally blank paper was covered with simple sketches—on the left was a fishing boat on the Kamakura seaside, a fisherman standing at the bow bending over to haul in the net, with a small note beside it: "4:00 AM, backlit, focus on the net's reflection";
in the middle was a steamed bun shop in Yokohama's Chinatown, the steamer emitting curling waves of heat, with the note below: "6:00 AM, side-lit steam, close-up of the proprietress's wrists kneading dough";
on the right was a farmhouse kitchen in Gunma, an old lady dropping Soba noodles into a pot, with the note: "5:00 PM, warm light, film the splash of noodles entering the pot and the old lady's wrinkles."
"This is my general idea." Hiroshi placed the pencil beside the paper and pointed to the title above the sketches. "'A Bite of Neon', starting with Kanto, divided into three parts: 'Freshness of the Seaside,' 'Warmth of the Streets,' 'Taste of Home.'"
He paused and tapped his finger on the "Freshness of the Seaside" section: "For instance, Chiba's seafood market: fishermen inaugurate their maritime excursions during predawn hours;
sushi chefs consequently execute fish selection pre-sunrise. These specific temporal interactions simultaneously validate vital 'Vitality of Life' parameters alongside exemplifying Kanto's oceanic reliance heritage. Regarding Yokohama Chinatown's steamed bun shop: observing the third-generation proprietress—tracing the developmental trajectory from her grandfather utilizing ambulatory pushcarts culminating currently maintaining dedicated premises—exemplifies the 'Warmth of the Streets'. Considering Gunma's agricultural Soba: documenting the elderly matriarch executing annual post-harvest noodle distribution amongst neighbors exemplifies the 'Taste of Home'. The paramount core defining this documentary: prioritizing 'humanity'. Culinary elements merely function representing vehicles;
human narratives constitute the intrinsic soul."
Just as he finished speaking, the meeting room door was pushed open. Suzuki Kiyoto walked in carrying a tea tray. As soon as he placed the teacups on the table, his gaze was hooked by the sketches, and he almost tilted the teapot: "Hiroshi-kun, did you draw this?"
He quickly walked over, picked up the sketches, and stopped his finger on the storyboard for the "Yokohama Bun Shop"—even the number of grids on the steamer was clearly marked, and it even said, "When the first batch of buns comes out, the steam should be thick, film the diners' movement of reaching for the buns."
Suzuki Kiyoto grew more surprised the more he looked. When he looked up, his glasses had slid down his nose: "How are these simple sketches? You even marked the lighting angles! When I filmed 'Kanto Landscapes' back then, the drafts drawn by professional storyboard artists weren't this detailed."
Matsui Yuichi also leaned in. He understood camera work better than Suzuki Kiyoto. Pointing to the "Chiba Seafood Market" storyboard, he said: "Look at this sequence. From the fishermen hauling in the net to the sushi chef slicing, it uses tracking shots, right? Even the camera's trajectory is drawn out—Hiroshi-kun, your storyboards are more professional than the finished drafts of the veteran cameramen at our station!"
Asumi, who was sitting to the side flipping through the ledger, also walked over upon hearing the two. He picked up another sketch, which was a close-up of Kamakura's seafood bowl: raw fish laid over rice, chopsticks picking up a piece of salmon, with notes reading, "Close-up of the oil sheen on the raw fish, chopsticks should move slowly, highlighting freshness." Asumi couldn't help but smile: "You even thought of details like this? When filming 'Midnight Diner,' you made the actors practice the motion of picking up an egg with chopsticks ten times. So you start fine-tuning details right from the storyboards."
Hiroshi touched the back of his head, his tone carrying a little embarrassment: "Actually, I'm not as familiar with Kanto's local food as you all are. For example, Matsui-san knows which seafood bowl in Kamakura is the oldest, and Suzuki-san knows which steamed bun in Yokohama has the most heritage. I have to rely on your help for these. What I can do is sort out the visual language. Let's work together to find those old shops and artisans with heritage and film their stories."
"Those with heritage are the best!" Matsui Yuichi immediately chimed in, his tone carrying excitement. "Let me tell you, there's a 'Sato Seafood Shop' in Kamakura. The owner, Sato-san, is sixty this year. He started going out to sea with his father at fifteen, and he still goes out at 3 AM every day, only catching seasonal fish. He says, 'If it's not seasonal fish, it doesn't have that fresh taste.' His son was a white-collar worker in Tokyo, but quit his job last year to come back and help him, saying he wants to pass this craft down—isn't this exactly the 'human' story you were talking about?"
Suzuki Kiyoto nodded concurrently: "The Yokohama Chinatown 'Li Family Steamed Buns' parallels this! Proprietress Li represents their third-generation manifestation. Her grandfather navigated transitioning from Southeast Asia toward Japan, initiating commerce utilizing peddler pushcarts;
observing their storefront currently reveals the inaugural pushcart hanging prominently fulfilling decorative functions. Maintaining daily operational commencement at 6 AM, dedicating the inaugural steamed bun batch fulfilling neighboring elderly clientele's consumption parameters, articulating 'Grandma witnessed my developmental maturation;
prioritizing her consumption remains paramount'—executing cinematic documentation targeting this narrative undeniably generates heartwarming content!"
(Fuzzy Sinicization, but there are really too many Chinese elements in Japan, so please don't overthink it.)
Hiroshi listened carefully, occasionally jotting down a sentence or two in his notebook: "That's exactly the kind of story we need. We don't need to look for famous shops, just find these ones with old foundations and human warmth. For example, filming 'Li Family Steamed Bun Shop,' we start filming from Li-san kneading dough at 3 AM, film how she mixes the filling, how she remembers the tastes of regular customers, film the smile when the old lady comes to get the buns—these details are more touching than anything else."
Matsui Yuichi became more excited the more he listened. He picked up the draft and read it again, unable to help but praise: "Hiroshi-kun, I have been filming for thirty years, but I have never seen a young man who understands the camera so well! This storyboard of yours, you even marked the strength of Li-san's wrist when she kneads the dough as 'need a close-up to reflect the power of traditional crafts', if we just film it like this, no need to change, it will definitely be effective!"
Hiroshi smiled and accepted the praise, but in his heart he was thinking about "A Bite of China" from his previous life—weren't the shots that the audience remembered precisely these details full of life? He accepted the admiration thickly: "Actually, I borrowed some ideas from the past. The key focus remains 'trailing the individual,' rather than documenting culinary elements solely justifying documentation. For instance, filming Sato-san's Seafood Shop dictates circumventing exclusive focus concerning raw fish freshness;
documenting consecutive interactions combatting ocean waves, isolating selection methodologies identifying optimal catches, culminating interacting alongside established clientele—these elements universally embody intrinsic impact eclipsing the culinary items completely."
"Well said!"
Asumi couldn't help but clap his hands, his tone full of admiration. "No wonder you could film 'Midnight Diner'! That kind of delicate observation is your talent! Filming 'Kasou Taishou', you grasp the interaction between people;
filming 'Seven Samurai', you grasp the struggle of human nature;
this time filming 'A Bite of Neon', you grasp the warmth of inheritance—you always find the most core thing, this is where you are different from others."
Matsui Yuichi also nodded along, his tone carrying admiration. "It's true! When filming 'Kanto Landscapes' back then, I always thought about filming scenery and customs, but forgot to film people. Now looking at your storyboards, I finally understand—scenery without people, no matter how beautiful, has no soul;
food without people, no matter how fragrant, has no taste. Hiroshi-kun, your brain is really born for this bowl of rice!"
Hiroshi felt a little embarrassed by the praise and changed the subject: "Matsui-san, actually, I have another request for you. To film 'A Bite of Neon', we need to form a specialized team, such as cameramen, directors, and sound recordists. I have to rely on your help for these—after all, you know the people at Kanto Station best and know who is suitable."
Matsui Yuichi patted his chest immediately: "Don't worry, Hiroshi-kun! I've already made a list with Yamada-san! Veteran cameraman Sato-san, who filmed 'Kanto Landscapes' before, knows Kanto's sea and Kanto's streets, and the scenes he shoots have flavor;
young director Honda Sakurako-chan, the one who clamored to film the old street with me last time, she's a local of Kanto, knows Kanto's food inside out, and even knows which Soba noodles are hand-rolled;
there's also sound recordist Kobayashi-san, who filmed folklore documentaries with me before, and can record the sound of the wind at the seaside and the sound of the steamer at the bun shop clearly—these people are all capable of working!"
He paused and added:
"I've also talked to Saito-san from the Technical Department and asked him to set aside that best high-definition camera. Even though it's been used for five years, the image quality is still good. Filming the oily sheen of raw fish or the folds of a steamed bun won't be a problem. If that's not enough, I'll tell Executive Director Asumi and have two more sent over from Tokyo Station!"
Hiroshi, looking at Matsui Yuichi's excited face, breathed a sigh of relief: "With Matsui-san's help, I'm at ease. Please go and talk to them now and finalize the team. We'll start scouting tomorrow—first to Sato-san's Seafood Shop, then the Li Family Steamed Bun Shop. We'll try to start shooting next week."
"Alright! I'll go right now!" Matsui Yuichi, clutching the draft, walked even faster than usual. When he reached the door, he turned back and instructed, "Hiroshi-kun, you wait, I promise to gather everyone within half an hour!"
Watching Matsui Yuichi's receding figure disappear out the door, the atmosphere in the meeting room relaxed further.
Asumi picked up his teacup and took a sip, suddenly remembering something. He forced a smile and said, "Right, Hiroshi-kun, I have to go see how the ledger check is going. Last time Kanto Station reported the equipment list, they said there were five usable video cameras. But actually, only two could turn on. Better not have a repeat performance—I hope they don't give me a 'big surprise'."
Suzuki Kiyoto also smiled wryly, putting down the teapot in his hand. "Don't get your hopes up. Last time I reconciled accounts with finance, I found they had marked 'Asakusaya's ad payment' as 'received'. But Asakusaya's boss said he hadn't paid yet, saying he'd wait until we had a new program. There are probably quite a few hidden problems in these ledgers."
Asumi sighed. "We still have to go look. Come on, Hiroshi-kun, come with me. You can also get an idea of Kanto Station's financial situation. Even though 'A Bite of Neon's' budget is approved, if the ledgers are a mess, subsequent funding will be troublesome too."
Hiroshi nodded and followed the two towards the small meeting room.
Just as they reached the door, they heard Hashimoto Ichiro's voice inside, tinged with a bit of helplessness: "Kimura-san, what's going on with this personnel ledger? The veteran employees' subsidies haven't been paid for three months, why isn't this marked? And the equipment ledger, it says 'three high-definition cameras', Saito-san says only one can actually shoot, this is too big of a discrepancy, right?"
Pushing the door open, the sight inside was worse than imagined.
The inspectors from Tokyo Station all frowned, their ledgers covered in red circles;
Kimura Hiroshi, Fujishita Ken, and others from Kanto Station stood nearby, looking pale.
Kimura Hiroshi pushed up his glasses, his tone carrying embarrassment. "Hashimoto-san, about the subsidies, it's because the station has been tight on funds recently. We thought we'd wait until the ad money arrived to pay them. As for the equipment, we didn't check carefully before reporting it. We just wanted to get the budget approved first..."
"How is this 'didn't check carefully'? This is fooling people!"
Asumi walked over, grabbed the equipment ledger, flipped a couple of pages, his frown deepening. "Look at this page, 'ten sets of audio recording equipment'. But Saito-san says only three are usable. The rest are either broken and unrepaired, or missing. If we shoot 'A Bite of Neon' without enough audio gear, how will we record the sound of ocean waves and kneading dough?"
Fujishita Ken patted his beer belly, his tone carrying grievance: "Executive Director Asumi, it's not that we want to fool you, it's that the station really has no money. Last time we wanted to repair those two broken cameras, Finance said 'no budget', so we could only leave them;
as for the subsidies, I have brought it up to Finance several times, and they all said 'wait until Station Chief Sakata approves it'—we have no other way."
Suzuki Kiyoto picked up the advertising ledger. Written in red ink was "Marui Soy Sauce owes three million, one month overdue," and "Asakusaya owes two million, not received."
He sighed. "If these ad payments can't be collected, never mind repairing equipment or paying subsidies, even 'A Bite of Neon's' subsequent filming will be a problem."
The meeting room instantly fell silent. The Tokyo Station inspectors said nothing, and Kanto Station's staff kept their heads lowered. The atmosphere was exceptionally heavy.
Asumi looked at the ledger in his hand, then at Suzuki Kiyoto. Their eyes met, both reflecting bitterness.
Finally, Asumi turned around, looked at Hiroshi, and spoke with a hint of helplessness, yet also expectation: "Hiroshi-kun, you've seen it too. Kanto Station's ledgers are like this, a complete mess. Insufficient equipment, tight funds, uncollected ad payments—this 'A Bite of Neon' can only rely on you. If this program becomes a hit, advertisers will definitely be willing to invest money, and the equipment and subsidy problems can also be solved;
if it doesn't..."
He didn't continue, but everyone understood the implication.
Suzuki Kiyoto also added, "Hiroshi-kun, us old folks have feelings for Kanto Station and want to save it, but we lack your ability. You saved the late-night slot by filming 'Yamishibai', and you saved samurai films by filming 'Seven Samurai'. This time... we are also begging you to save Kanto Station."
Hiroshi scrutinized the individuals present—Asumi's knuckle-whitening grip regarding the ledger remained intense;
Suzuki Kiyoto's optical appliance slid uncorrected toward his nasal extremity;
Kimura Hiroshi alongside Fujishita Ken displayed lowered visual trajectories mimicking reprimanded juveniles;
Saito Shigeru occupying the perimeter neglected his active pager, maintaining visual fixation directed straight toward Hiroshi.
He took a deep breath, walked over and picked up the equipment ledger, turned to the "Usable Equipment" page, gently crossed out "Three high-definition video cameras," and changed it to "One (need to transfer two from Tokyo Station)," and wrote next to it, "Audio Recording Equipment: Kanto Station three + transfer two from Tokyo Station."
Then, he looked up, his gaze still steady, but his tone commanding power: "Regarding equipment: I shall communicate concerning Executive Director Asumi facilitating transferring two high-definition video cameras alongside two audio recording equipment units originating Tokyo Station, guaranteeing arrival tomorrow. Concerning advertising revenue: Fujishita-san, initiate dialogue communicating 'Sato Seafood Shop' and 'Li Family Steamed Bun Shop';
propose integrating promotional exposure within our documentary, soliciting partial advance payment mitigating current financial constraints. Regarding subsidies: following 'A Bite of Neon's' inaugural broadcast, I shall directly petition Station Chief Sakata initiating immediate payment finalizing veteran employee subsidy deficits."
He paused and looked at everyone. "As for whether 'A Bite of Neon' will become popular, I can't guarantee it, but I will try my best. Just like Matsui-san said, what we shoot is the inheritance of Kanto, the human touch of Kanto—as long as we shoot with heart, the audience will definitely feel it."
Seeing Hiroshi's calmness, Asumi breathed a sigh of relief. He remembered the first time he met Hiroshi, when the young man was just a rookie who had newly entered the station, yet dared to challenge the station and demanded to film "Yamishibai". Now, he was able to carry the banner of Kanto Station's reform and remain calm in the face of a mess—this growth was more admirable than any achievement.
He patted Hiroshi on the shoulder. "Good! We'll do as you say! I'll call Tokyo Station now and have them transfer the equipment over. Fujishita-san, you go and talk to those old shops right now about the advance payment. Kimura-san, organize the list of veteran employees for the subsidies, and wait for Hiroshi-kun to apply with Station Chief Sakata. Saito-san, you'll coordinate with the people from Tokyo Station tomorrow regarding the equipment and ensure it can be used normally."
"Yes!" Everyone answered in unison, the heaviness from before dissipating, and the light returning to their eyes.
Fujishita Ken immediately picked up the landline phone on the table and started calling "Sato Seafood Shop," his tone carrying excitement: "Sato-san! It's Fujishita! I have good news for you. Our Kanto Station is going to shoot a documentary specifically about your seafood shop. We can also do some promotion for you..."
Kimura Hiroshi also took out his notebook and started sorting out the subsidy list, his fingers writing quickly: "Veteran cameraman Sato-san, sound recordist Kobayashi-san, director Honda-chan..."
Saito Shigeru also took out his pager and sent a message to the people in the Technical Department, the content being "Prepare to receive the equipment from Tokyo Station tomorrow, and check the lines in advance."
Suzuki Kiyoto looked at the scene in front of him and couldn't help but smile. He walked up to Hiroshi and whispered: "Hiroshi-kun, thank you. If it weren't for you, our Kanto Station really wouldn't know what to do."
Hiroshi smiled and shook his head, "Suzuki-san, no need to thank me. I merely executed requisite functions. Furthermore, this endeavor transcends individual capability;
it mandates collective effort—Matsui-san organizing teams, Executive Director Asumi coordinating equipment deployment, Fujishita-san negotiating advertising contracts. Unified collaboration guarantees successfully filming 'A Bite of Neon,' subsequently guaranteeing Kanto Station's revitalization."
Right then, the door to the small meeting room was pushed open. Matsui Yuichi ran in excitedly, holding a roster: "Hiroshi-kun! The team is finalized! Veteran cameraman Sato-san, director Honda-chan, sound recordist Kobayashi-san, and three assistants are all willing to come! Honda-chan heard we're filming food and specially brought her mother's Oden for us to try and get a feel for it!"
Behind him followed a group of people, including a young girl carrying a thermos barrel, her face full of excitement—it was Honda Sakurako, who had previously clamored to film the old street with Matsui Yuichi. When she saw Hiroshi, she immediately bowed, "Nohara-san! I'm Honda Sakurako! I really love the 'Midnight Diner' you filmed. Being able to film 'A Bite of Neon' with you this time, I will definitely study hard!"
Hiroshi smiled and nodded, "Honda-chan, there's no need to be formal. Let's work hard together. What's in your thermos barrel? It smells delicious."
Honda Sakurako immediately opened the thermos barrel. Inside was steaming Oden: "My mother made it! There are radishes, kelp, and fish balls, all the traditional flavors of Kanto. Please try them!"
Matsui Yuichi picked up a skewer of radish, took a bite, and squinted his eyes in satisfaction: "Mmm! This is the taste! Hiroshi-kun, you try it too. This is the taste of our Kanto. When we shoot 'A Bite of Neon', we need to shoot this taste!"
Hiroshi picked up a skewer of kelp and tasted it. It was indeed fresh—with the fragrance of kelp and a bit of mother's flavor.
He suddenly remembered the plum rice balls Misae made for him this morning, feeling warm in his heart.
He looked at the bustling scene in front of him—Fujishita Ken was still on the phone with old shops, Kimura Hiroshi was sorting out the list, Saito-san was checking the equipment list, Matsui Yuichi and Honda Sakurako were distributing Oden to everyone, Asumi was coordinating equipment with Tokyo Station—and suddenly felt that this mess didn't seem so hard to clean up.
Just like this Oden, the radish must be cooked slowly to be flavorful, and the kelp must be soaked thoroughly to be fresh—the reform of Kanto Station also needs time, patience, and everyone to work hard together.
The sunlight outside the window shone through the glass, spilling onto everyone, as well as the ledgers and sketches on the table.
Those red circles and annotations that once gave people headaches now looked like small interludes on the road forward.
Hiroshi picked up the sketch of "A Bite of Neon", looking at the fishermen, the bun shop owner, and the farmhouse old lady on it, unable to help but curl the corners of his mouth upward.
He knew the road ahead was still very long, and there would be many difficulties, but as long as everyone walked together, they would definitely reach the finish line.
After all, what they were filming was the inheritance of Kanto, the human touch of Kanto, and the warmth hidden in food.
These things will never be outdated.
In the previous life, why did "A Bite of China" directly become immensely popular across the country, and even attracted astonishing attention overseas?
The reason is right here.
Warmth.
Human touch.
And the most down-to-earth craving for delicious food!
PS: Thick-skinned again asking for some recommendation tickets and such.
(Chapter Ends)