novelraw Chapter 254: Koike Ryuichi's Recognition! Suzuki Kiyoto's Emotion!
Chapter 254: Koike Ryuichi's Recognition! Suzuki Kiyoto's Emotion!
In mid-November, the top-floor office of the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building offered a panoramic view of the cityscape through its floor-to-ceiling windows.
Sunlight filtered through the glass, falling onto the mahogany desk and casting a warm glow on an exquisite ceramic tea set.
Koike Ryuichi personally held the silver kettle, slowly pouring the warm tea into the teacups. His movements were slow and steady, carrying the composure of an old-school politician.
Shimazu Yoshihiro sat on the leather sofa opposite, his eyes fixed on the tea leaves suspended in the cup—it was the newly produced Sencha from the tea fields in the jurisdictions under Tokyo, with tender leaves and a clear liquor.
He picked up the teacup, first bringing it close to his nose to sniff lightly, then taking a small sip. His brow slightly uncreased, and his tone carried the meticulousness of a professional tea taster: "Governor Koike, the aroma of this tea is very clean, with a faint chestnut fragrance upon entering the mouth, and a sufficient sweet aftertaste. It must be tender shoots picked before Qingming, right? Most new teas available on the market now carry astringency, but yours is a rare, refreshing brew."
Koike Ryuichi set down the silver kettle, smiled, and nodded: "Shimazu-kun certainly knows his tea. This is a special supply from the Chichibu tea fields in Saitama Prefecture. The high altitude and large temperature difference between day and night there allow the tea leaves to accumulate more flavor. I specially had someone save a kilogram. I invited you here today, firstly to enjoy this good tea with you, and secondly, to finalize an important matter."
He paused, tapped his fingers lightly on the desk, and his tone became solemn: "The Election Commission has confirmed it. The Tokyo mayoral election is set for December 1st and will last for three days. The list of candidates will be announced starting next Monday. You need to prepare in advance on your end, don't let any slip-ups happen."
The hand holding the teacup slightly paused, and a hint of surprise flashed in Shimazu Yoshihiro's eyes, quickly followed by a return to calmness.
He put down the teacup, leaned forward slightly, and bowed deeply to Koike Ryuichi: "Thank you for letting me know, Governor Koike! With a clear date, our team can arrange the propaganda rhythm more accurately, and we won't be crossing the river by feeling the stones like before."
"No need to thank me, this is the Election Commission's process."Koike Ryuichi waved his hand, picked up his own teacup, and took a sip. "But I have to ask you, how are the preparations going now? Last week, Hattori Tadashi told me your approval rating had surpassed Tanaka Mikami's. What are the specific numbers? Don't give me vague answers, I want the hard data."
Shimazu Yoshihiro pulled a neatly folded polling report from his briefcase and handed it to Koike Ryuichi: "Your Excellency, this is the latest data fresh off the press yesterday. The overall support rate is 53%, while Tanaka Mikami is at 47%. We are leading by 6 percentage points. Looking at the demographics, the support rate among young people is 62%, and among traditional craft practitioners is 58%. These two groups are our base;
the middle-aged and elderly group was lagging behind before, but after we recently added the 'welfare for the elderly' propaganda, their support rate has also risen to 55%, which can be considered stabilized."
Koike Ryuichi opened the report, his finger sliding across the data tables, stopping at the "Swing Voters" column.
Frowning slightly, he spoke: "The proportion of swing voters is still at 12%. These people are mostly small business owners and office workers in the suburbs, and their biggest concern is 'whether the policies can be implemented'. Do the 'Community Cultural Stations' and 'Return-to-Hometown Entrepreneurship Subsidies' you promised earlier have a concrete implementation timetable? These people don't buy into 'empty promises'."
"We are already working on detailed plans."
Shimazu Yoshihiro replied immediately, his tone determined. "For small business owners, we plan to launch 'small low-interest loans' in the first month after being elected, cooperating with the credit unions in Tokyo to help alleviate their financial pressure;
for suburban office workers, we will launch an 'express commuter bus from the suburbs to the city center', with four runs each morning and evening, and ticket prices 30% cheaper than the subway. These plans have already been drafted by the team and are just waiting to be submitted to the Metropolitan Government for approval after the election."
Koike Ryuichi looked up at him with a scrutinizing gaze: "Tanaka Mikami has recently been attacking you for 'relying on TV stations for hype and having no governing experience'. How do you plan to respond? He has been in the Tokyo City Assembly for ten years, and with the support of real estate developers, he has won over many assembly members. If he catches you on the 'lack of experience' vulnerability, you will easily suffer a backlash."
"We've long been prepared for this."
Shimazu Yoshihiro took another document out of his briefcase. "We have compiled case studies of my work over the past twenty years—when I was a council member in Gunma Prefecture, I promoted a 'paddy field water-saving irrigation project', which saved farmers 30% of their water usage;
when I was a branch office chief in Chiba Prefecture, I renovated the fishing port's cold chain system, reducing the spoilage rate of fishermen's catches from 20% to 5%. These all have specific data and testimonies from the people. We will make them into brochures and deliver them to the residents of every community, using facts to refute his attacks."
Koike Ryuichi took the document, flipped through a few pages, and seeing the attached old newspaper reports and signed thank-you letters from farmers and fishermen, a satisfied look appeared on his face: "Well done, more thorough than I expected. But you must remember, the public looks not only at past achievements but also at future promises. How are you going to implement the 'controlling the real estate bubble' policy you mentioned earlier? Don't just say 'restricting speculation', you need to provide actionable methods."
"We have consulted economics experts on this matter."
Shimazu Yoshihiro sat up straight, his tone serious. "First step is to raise the down payment percentage for a second home from the current 30% to 50%, to suppress speculative buying;
the second step is to increase the supply of affordable housing, with to build 20,000 units in the Tokyo suburbs over the next three years, giving priority to young people who have worked in Tokyo for a full five years;
the third step is to strictly investigate real estate developers hoarding properties, and if found, their development qualifications in Tokyo will be revoked. These measures have already been communicated with the housing and construction department of the Metropolitan Government, and they said they will fully cooperate."
After hearing this, Koike Ryuichi nodded gently, lightly tapping his fingers on the desk: "The direction is correct, but you must be mindful of the degree. Real estate developers are close to Tanaka Mikami right now, and if you push them too hard, they might cause trouble. It's best to start with a few small developers who violated the rules to serve as a warning, and refrain from targeting the large conglomerates right away to avoid intensifying conflicts."
"I understand."
Shimazu Yoshihiro nodded in agreement. "Our team has also considered this point, and we plan to start with small developers who illegally remodeled old houses without qualifications. This is both compliant with regulations and won't cause too much of a shock. After we have established a firm foothold, we will gradually standardize the behavior of the large conglomerates."
Hearing this, Koike Ryuichi put down the document, picked up his teacup and took a drink, his eyes growing deep: "Shimazu-kun, you must be clear, this election is not just a contest between you and Tanaka Mikami, but a game between our reform faction and the real estate interest groups. Tokyo City is the economic center of Japan, but now it is tied down by real estate—young people can't afford houses, small and medium-sized enterprises can't afford offices, and even the savings of ordinary families are tied up by housing prices. If this continues, before the bubble bursts, Tokyo's economy will collapse first."
He paused, his voice turning heavy:
"What we need to do is pull Tokyo out of 'real estate dependency.' Once elected, you must prioritize promoting the 'Traditional Craft Revival' and 'Cultural Tourism Cooperation,' just like Nohara Hiroshi's 'A Bite,' to build up the specialty industries around Tokyo. This creates new jobs and reduces the economy's reliance on real estate. This is Tokyo's future."
Shimazu Yoshihiro clenched his fists, his tone firm: "Rest assured, Governor Koike! I will certainly follow this direction! The excellent promotional results this time are also thanks to Nohara-kun's 'Information Cocoon' strategy—he helped us customize content for different demographics. Without shouting empty slogans, the public truly felt the sincerity of our policies. If it weren't for him, our approval rating would probably still be hovering around 40%."
"Nohara Hiroshi..."
Koike Ryuichi repeated the name, a flash of appreciation in his eyes. "This young man is indeed not simple. The last time I chatted with him about the 'Information Cocoon,' he even had the promotional direction for 'controlling the real estate bubble' figured out. He considered both the anxiety of young people and the concerns of the middle-aged and elderly;
he's more thorough than many veteran PR consultants."
He suddenly lowered his voice, his tone mysterious: "And you might not know, someone in the Cabinet has already noticed him. The Prime Minister's secretary called me last week, asking if the 'Information Cocoon' could be used for the national 'Rural Revitalization Plan' campaign, and also asked me to send over a copy of the materials compiled by Nohara Hiroshi. The future of this young man is limitless."
Shimazu Yoshihiro's eyes widened, and he quickly said: "I've already had someone interface with Nohara-kun. They've thoroughly recorded the propaganda process, channel selection, and content design of the 'Information Cocoon' and compiled it into a report. Once the election is over, it can be submitted to the Cabinet for reference. Nohara-kun is also very cooperative and even volunteered a few ideas for 'Rural Revitalization' campaigning, like using the stories of rural craftsmen from 'A Bite' as a vehicle to attract young people back to their hometowns."
Koike Ryuichi nodded, fingers tapping lightly on the desk, his tone suddenly becoming heavy: "However, we shouldn't be too optimistic. Do you know? Although the Liberal Public Opinion Party still holds a majority in the Diet, because we refused to cooperate with the subsequent policies of the US's 'Plaza Accord', they've already begun to grow dissatisfied. Last week, a counselor from the US Embassy in Japan spoke with me, hinting at supporting 'political forces more aligned with US interests'. To put it bluntly, they want to prop up a puppet like Tanaka Mikami."
Shimazu Yoshihiro's face darkened instantly, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fists, muttering a curse under his breath: "Bakaero! By what right do the American brutes interfere in our internal politics? Japan is a sovereign nation, not their colony! They want us to keep inflating the bubble with real estate so they can harvest our wealth, but we won't let them!"
"Do you think they can't?"
Koike Ryuichi sighed helplessly. "Since the day of defeat, our hands and feet have been bound by them. Military presence, economic aid, media propaganda... Which of these isn't heavily monitored by them? Half the funds of the real estate conglomerate backing Tanaka Mikami come from American investment firms. Why do you think he dares to buy up land so frantically? Because he has American backing."
He paused, looking out at Tokyo Tower, an air of world-weariness in his tone. "The reforms led by General MacArthur back then seemed to grant us democracy, but in reality, they grasped our economic lifeline. When we wanted to develop manufacturing, they forced us to sign 'voluntary export restraints';
when we wanted to support domestic enterprises, they launched 'anti-dumping investigations.' Now, when we want to manage the real estate bubble, they intervene to disrupt. This is what you call an 'ally.'"
Shimazu Yoshihiro remained silent for a while before abruptly raising his head, a defiant glint in his eyes. "Even so, we cannot compromise! Governor Koike, my campaign is not just about defeating Tanaka Mikami;
it's about fighting for a way out for the people of Tokyo. If Tanaka Mikami is elected, he'll definitely continue indulging real estate developers. When the bubble bursts, countless families will go bankrupt, and Tokyo will truly be finished. Even if it takes everything I have, I must stop him!"
Seeing his determination, Koike Ryuichi smiled in relief. "Good! With your words, I am reassured. But remember, determination alone isn't enough;
you need strategy. Though the Americans support Tanaka Mikami, they also fear inciting public discontent. As long as our campaign firmly grasps the public's pain points, winning their grassroots support, the Americans won't find an excuse to interfere, even if they want to."
He picked up his teacup and raised it toward Shimazu Yoshihiro. "Come, have more tea. This tea is light but resilient;
just like the path of our reform faction, it may look difficult to walk, but as long as we persevere, we'll eventually taste its sweetness."
Shimazu Yoshihiro picked up his tea cup, clinked it against Koike Ryuichi's, and drank the tea in one gulp.
The subtle aroma of the tea spread in his mouth, but it couldn't mask the fighting spirit in his heart—he knew the next half month would be the crucial battle determining Tokyo's future. He couldn't afford to lose, nor could he lose.
The two chatted for over another half hour, discussing everything from propaganda details to gaining support from council members, from livelihood policies to economic planning, examining every aspect down to the finest detail.
When Shimazu Yoshihiro stood up to leave, Koike Ryuichi suddenly stopped him, his tone carrying some emotion: "Shimazu-kun, we are all old. This election might be the last time we give our all for reform. Future Japan relies on its youth."
Shimazu Yoshihiro froze for a moment, then understood what Koike Ryuichi meant. He turned around, looking at Koike Ryuichi with a serious tone: "You mean Nohara Hiroshi-kun? Indeed, although he is young, his vision and abilities far exceed his peers. The success of the 'Information Cocoon' and his understanding of policy propaganda have impressed me. If there's an opportunity in the future, I want to invite him to join our team and push Tokyo's reforms together."
Koike Ryuichi smiled and nodded: "I think the same. This young man not only has talent but also empathy—he filmed 'A Bite' not for ratings, but to record disappearing crafts;
he designed the 'Information Cocoon' not to help you win the election, but to let the public truly understand the policies. A person like him is much more reliable than politicians who only know how to scheme."
He paused, a hint of expectation in his eyes: "But don't rush to recruit him. Nohara Hiroshi is more focused on creation right now. Forcing him into politics might bury his talent. What we can do is create a better environment for him, allowing his works to continue conveying correct values and influencing more people. When the time is right in the future, he will naturally understand that his talents can do more for this country."
Shimazu Yoshihiro nodded in agreement: "You are right, I was too impatient. I will maintain a good cooperative relationship with Nohara-kun and not put extra pressure on him. After this election, I also want to commission him to shoot a documentary about 'Tokyo's Economic Transformation', using real stories to show the public that Tokyo can have a better future without relying on real estate."
"This is a very good idea." Koike Ryuichi nodded with satisfaction. "When the time comes, the Metropolitan Government can provide funding to ensure he has no worries. By the way, when you get back, please tell Nohara-kun that I'd like to invite him to the Metropolitan Government for tea when he has time, to discuss ideas for the documentary."
Shimazu Yoshihiro agreed, bowed to Koike Ryuichi again, and then turned to leave the office.
When he reached the elevator, he took out his phone and dialed Nohara Hiroshi's number—the line connected after two rings, and Nohara Hiroshi's calm voice came through the receiver: "Senior Shimazu, what's the matter?"
"Hiroshi-kun, the election date is set, starting December 1st." Shimazu Yoshihiro's voice carried a trace of imperceptible excitement, "Also, Governor Koike really appreciates you and said he wants to invite you for tea and to chat about a documentary. We really owe it to you this time;
without the 'Information Cocoon', we couldn't have made it this far."
There was silence on the other end of the line for a moment before Nohara Hiroshi's peaceful voice came through: "Congratulations, Senior Shimazu, on securing a firm date. As for the documentary, I am available anytime. But you don't need to thank me;
I simply did what I had to do—good policies require good propaganda. Helping the public understand and support policies that benefit them is a meaningful endeavor in itself."
Holding the phone, Shimazu Yoshihiro suddenly felt a rush of warmth in his heart.
He looked at his reflection in the elevator doors and recalled Koike Ryuichi's remark that "the future relies on the youth." He suddenly felt that no matter how many difficulties they faced in this election, or how thorny the US's interference proved to be, as long as there were young people like Nohara Hiroshi, there was hope for Japan's future.
The elevator doors slowly opened, and Shimazu Yoshihiro took a deep breath before stepping in.
The next half a month was going to be a tough battle, but he was prepared—for the citizens of Tokyo, for a future free from real estate dependency, and to honor the trustworthy companions by his side.
...
In an old bakery in Chichibu City, Saitama Prefecture, the heat of the oven mixed with the aroma of wheat permeated the air.
Nohara Hiroshi hung up Shimazu Yoshihiro's phone call. A slight coolness from the phone lingered on his fingertips, but a complex look flashed across his face.
He looked at Sato Kosuke kneading dough in the camera lens—the old man's calloused hands repeatedly folded the dough, movement as skillful as if he had spent most of his life entwined with flour, yet Hiroshi couldn't help but mutter internally.
Koike Ryuichi's expectations, Shimazu Yoshihiro's reliance, and Hattori Tadashi's occasional hints of "cultivating the younger generation"—these high-ranking officials in Japan seemed to view him as a young man worthy of their trust.
But he knew in his heart that he was still the soul from China on Earth. Even though he had spent some time in this world, he had never truly planned anything for Japan's future.
"Hiroshi-san, what's wrong?" The young lighting assistant asked softly, seeing him staring blankly.
Nohara Hiroshi snapped out of it, shook his head, and regained his calm tone: "Nothing, let's keep shooting. Pay attention to capturing the lines on Sato-san's hands, and the close-ups of the bread expanding in the oven. These details are crucial."
The assistant hurried to comply, and the faint hum of machinery resumed on set.
Nohara Hiroshi walked over and sat by the monitor, watching the footage while chatting with the crew beside him about "A Bite's" progress: "Episode four will edit the story of Saitama's koinobori dorayaki, focusing on how Hyakukawa-ryu uses ancestral yeast to make dorayaki;
episode five films Gunma Prefecture's tamagoyaki, adding local 'Matsuri' folk scenes beyond the selection of eggs and cream;
episode six is the cream of mushroom soup, following a professional chef for three days, capturing everything comprehensively."
He paused, his eyes falling on the bread being loaded onto the baking tray:
"As for the seventh episode we're shooting now, we'll focus on the 'Christmas limited edition bread' of this old bakery—Sato-san only makes this chestnut puree bread in December to commemorate his deceased wife. We must capture this sentiment so the audience can taste the human warmth within the bread's sweetness."
The surrounding staff listened attentively, and someone couldn't help but sigh: "Hiroshi-san, the subjects you choose are so warm, much more interesting than those documentaries that only shoot how food is made."
Nohara Hiroshi smiled but said nothing.
He knew very well that these "warm" designs were simply borrowed from the documentary concepts of Earth in 2025—compared to merely showcasing techniques, the audience cares more about the people and stories behind the food.
In the evening, the filming at the old bakery concluded smoothly.
Nohara Hiroshi had just packed up the equipment when Saito Shigeru, who was in charge of post-production, hurriedly came over: "Hiroshi-san, the materials for episodes four to six have been sorted out. The colleagues in the technical department say that you still have to do the editing yourself;
they're afraid of messing up the pacing."
"Let's go, to the editing room."
Nohara Hiroshi nodded and followed Saito Shigeru toward Kanto TV's temporary editing room.
Along the way, they met many young directors from Kanto TV, as well as a few rookies who came from TV Tokyo to learn. When they saw him, they all greeted him warmly, their eyes full of anticipation.
In the editing room, several editing machines were lined up side-by-side, their screens still displaying the footage shot earlier that day.
Nohara Hiroshi sat down, put on headphones, his fingers moving quickly over the console, first roughly splicing together the footage for the seventh episode.
The nearby youngsters gathered around, holding their breath as they watched him work, someone occasionally jotting notes in their notebook.
"When editing a documentary, the most important thing is not 'making it cut beautifully', but 'cutting it so it's understood'."
Nohara Hiroshi explained while adjusting the sequence of shots, "For example, in this scene of Sato-san kneading dough, we can't just keep the shot of his kneading motion;
we also have to add the close-up of him looking up at his wife's photo on the wall, matched with the sync sound of him softly saying, 'The chestnut harvest is good this year.' This keeps the emotion continuous."
"Hiroshi-san, what if there's too much footage, how do you decide what to keep?" asked Honda Sakurako, a young director from Kanto TV, whose notebook was already more than half full.
Nohara Hiroshi paused his operation, pointed at the screen, and explained: "Remember three principles: First, keep shots 'with information'—like the change in volume during bread fermentation, letting the audience understand the process. Second, keep details 'with emotion'—like the old towel Sato-san uses to wipe his sweat;
it shows his perseverance better than any voice-over. Third, keep segments 'with rhythm'—the 'whoosh' when the oven door opens, the steam when the bread comes out. These let the film breathe."
He paused, and pulled up the footage for the soba noodles from episode five: "Look at this part. The shot of boiling the soba noodles is only ten seconds long, but I added a three-second close-up of the water boiling before it, and a five-second slow-motion shot of the noodles being lifted out after it. Then, accompanied by the 'gurgling' sound of the boiling noodles, the audience can feel the chewiness of the noodles. This is the 'Sensory Editing Method.' Using images and sounds to stimulate the audience's sense of taste and touch is much more effective than simple explanation."
The young people nodded repeatedly, with some of them wanting to try it themselves. Nohara Hiroshi patiently guided them by their side, explaining everything in detail, from the transition methods to the selection of background music.
It wasn't until the night was deep that the sound of discussion still echoed in the editing room, everyone's face filled with sudden enlightenment.
"You guys sure are learning seriously," a familiar voice came from the doorway. Suzuki Kiyoto walked in leaning on his cane, a gentle smile on his face.
He had just come over from TV Tokyo and wanted to say hello to Nohara Hiroshi, but instead, he saw a room full of young people gathered around the editing machines, their eyes full of intense focus.
Nohara Hiroshi stood up: "Senior Suzuki, what brings you here?"
"I'm here to bring you some good news," Suzuki Kiyoto handed over a ratings report. "Episode six's Chiba Seafood Donburi broke a 42% rating, even higher than 'Kasou Taishou's' rating last week. Who would have thought a documentary could beat a variety show? It was unimaginable before."
Nohara Hiroshi took the report, glanced at the data, and wasn't entirely surprised.
He knew this was because he had employed documentary techniques from Earth circa 2025—which combine suspense (such as the audience worrying if Nomizu Masayasu would catch tuna in a storm) and educational value (explaining the best ways to eat different fish). Furthermore, interwoven with stories of fishermen's lives, it offered more depth than traditional variety shows.
"Hiroshi-san, will you stay at Kanto TV in the future?" a young director suddenly asked, their tone full of anticipation.
The others also looked at Nohara Hiroshi, their eyes brimming with desire—they all hoped to continue learning from him.
Hearing this, the smile on Suzuki Kiyoto's face faded slightly, and his tone became complex: "Hiroshi-kun doesn't belong to Kanto TV;
he is an eagle, meant to fly to higher places. What we at Kanto TV can do is learn as much real skills from him as possible while he's still willing to stay."
As soon as these words were spoken, the editing room instantly went quiet.
The young people froze for a few seconds before suddenly understanding—Nohara Hiroshi's talent had long exceeded the scope of Kanto TV. Whether it was the emphasis from TV Tokyo or the attention of high-level officials, he was destined not to stay at a local station forever.
"Senior Suzuki is exaggerating," Nohara Hiroshi somewhat smoothed things over with a smile. "I'm just doing what I love, and wherever I am, I hope to shoot good works. Kanto TV has so many young people with potential, in the future, you will definitely be able to make documentaries even better than 'A Bite'."
He paused and looked at the young people gathered around him: "It's getting late, everyone should go back and rest. Once Kanto TV starts preparing a new documentary, I believe you all will be able to take charge."
The young people assented one after another. As they packed their things, they continued quietly discussing the editing techniques they'd just learned, the reverence in their eyes even greater than before.
It wasn't until the last person left that only Nohara Hiroshi and Suzuki Kiyoto remained in the editing room.
"You seem rather open-minded," Suzuki Kiyoto said, sitting in the chair beside Nohara Hiroshi, his tone laced with emotion. "If it were anyone else, being idolized by so many young people, they would have long since gotten a big head."
"Idolization can't put food on the table, creating good work is everything," Nohara Hiroshi said, switching off the editing machine. "Right, Senior Suzuki, you must have come over for more than just delivering a ratings report?"
Suzuki Kiyoto chuckled and pulled an invitation from his pocket. "It's from NHK. They want to invite you to the 'Documentary Creation Symposium' early next month. They specifically told me this symposium is very high-level. Besides TV station people, there will be officials from the Ministry of Education, and perhaps even someone from the Cabinet might listen in."
Nohara Hiroshi took the invitation, looked at the signature on it, and was slightly taken aback: "Why would NHK suddenly want to see me?"
"It's because of the popularity of 'A Bite'." Suzuki Kiyoto explained. "Now all of Japan is talking about this documentary, and NHK, as a public broadcaster, wants to use this opportunity to explore the future direction of documentaries. They feel that the idea of 'Humanities + Craftsmanship' you proposed is very valuable, and they want you to talk more about it at the meeting."
Nohara Hiroshi pondered for a moment, then nodded in agreement: "Okay, I'll go. But as for what exactly to say, I might need to prepare in advance."
"No need to be so nervous;
just speak as you usually do when teaching the youngsters," Suzuki Kiyoto patted his shoulder. "By the way, NHK also mentioned that they want to cooperate with you on a series of documentaries about the 'Inheritance of Japan's Traditional Crafts.' The budget is very generous. If you are interested, you can chat with them about it."
Nohara Hiroshi's heart stirred—this was indeed an opportunity to record more traditional crafts. Even if it wasn't for the future of Japan, preserving these disappearing skills was a meaningful endeavor in itself.
He nodded. "Wait until the symposium concludes, I'll discuss specific ideas with them."
Night had fully fallen. As the two walked out of the editing room, only sparse lights remained illuminated in the Kanto TV office building.
Suzuki Kiyoto looked at the young man beside him, who was barely shorter than himself, and suddenly asked: "Hiroshi-kun, have you thought about what you want to do in the future? Only shoot documentaries or...move towards higher places?"
Nohara Hiroshi paused for a moment and looked up at the night sky—the moon was hidden by clouds, revealing only a faint light.
He thought of Koike Ryuichi's expectations, Shimazu Yoshihiro's reliance, and the adoring gazes of those young people, and said softly: "I haven't thought that far ahead yet;
I'll focus on what's directly in front of me first. But I know that no matter what I do, I have to be true to every shot I film, and to the people who trust me."
Suzuki Kiyoto looked at his serious profile, nodded slightly, and probed no further.
He was well aware that this young man's future would never be confined to a small editing room. Just as an eagle must eventually soar into the expansive sky, Nohara Hiroshi was destined to leave his unique mark on this world.
The two men walked side by side down the quiet corridor, their footsteps echoing through the empty space, as if laying a silent groundwork for the upcoming symposium, and for Nohara Hiroshi's unknown, yet undeniably extraordinary future.
...
In the office area of Tokyo City TV, the "whir" of the printer still echoed, but Takahashi Kazuo felt his temples throbbing.
He had just hung up the phone with NHK, and the note grasped in his hand contained only one line: "Symposium quota is limited to invited organizations;
Tokyo City TV is currently not on the list." This line felt like a stone, pressing him until he could barely breathe.
"Deputy Station Chief Takahashi!" The office door was abruptly pushed open, and Kamiki Shunsuke walked in with shiny leather shoes. His white suit carried a scent of perfume, terribly out of place amidst the smell of ink in the office.
He held an entertainment newspaper, with the headline "Nohara Hiroshi Invited to Attend High-Level NHK Documentary Symposium" emblazoned on the front page. His tone was full of urgency, "Did you see the news? Nohara Hiroshi is going to the NHK symposium! Why didn't our station receive an invitation? You quickly help me get a spot, I have to go too!"
Takahashi Kazuo rubbed between his eyebrows, trying to keep his tone peaceful: "Kamiki-kun, calm down first. I just confirmed with NHK, this symposium only invited designated organizations. Tokyo City TV is not on the invited list, there are no extra spots."
"No spots?" Kamiki Shunsuke's voice instantly rose to a pitch as he crushed the newspaper in his hand. "How could there be no spots? Nohara Hiroshi is just a director, and I'm our station's star artist! On what grounds is NHK inviting him and not me? This clearly shows contempt for Tokyo City TV and even more so for me!"
He stepped forward, his chest heaving slightly, his face full of arrogance: "Deputy Station Chief Takahashi, please talk to NHK again. Tell them that I, Kamiki Shunsuke, am willing to attend and can help them increase exposure. You know that our station's recent ratings all rely on me;
if I can attend this symposium, it will also boost our station's image!"
Takahashi Kazuo watched his righteous demeanor and felt a surge of helplessness.
He took a deep breath and patiently explained: "Kamiki-kun, the theme of this symposium is 'Documentary Creation and Cultural Inheritance.' The invitees are all directors, screenwriters, and experts in the cultural field;
it has nothing to do with artist exposure. NHK has its own screening criteria;
I can't casually sway them."
"Criteria? What criteria could be more important than me?" Kamiki Shunsuke sneered, disdain in his eyes. "Isn't Nohara Hiroshi's 'A Bite' just some cooking clips? What's so great about that? The ratings for 'Tokyo Love Story,' which I star in, are also quite decent. Why should he get to go and I can't?"
He became more and more agitated as he spoke, reaching out to slap the table: "I don't care! You must get me a spot! If you don't, I won't participate in next week's variety show recording! When the station's ratings drop, don't come looking for me!"
Takahashi Kazuo's face darkened, his fingers tightly gripping the edge of the desk.
He knew Kamiki Shunsuke was telling the truth—since the establishment of Tokyo City TV, it has entirely relied upon Kamiki Shunsuke's popularity to stay afloat. Whether it's variety shows or television dramas, as long as he appears on screen, the ratings rise significantly. If Kamiki Shunsuke really carried out a recording strike, the station's predicament would only worsen.
However, he also knew clearly that NHK wouldn't yield. This symposium was spearheaded by the Ministry of Education, and the guest list had been finalized long ago. Even TV Tokyo only received two spots, let alone their local station propped up by Tanaka Mikami's patronage.
"Kamiki-kun, it's not that I don't want to help you, there's really nothing I can do," Takahashi Kazuo's voice carried a hint of fatigue. "NHK explicitly stated that the number of places cannot be increased, nor can they be swapped. If you really want to attend, the next time there's a similar event, I will prioritize securing a place for you."
"Next time? Who knows when the next time will be!" Kamiki Shunsuke suddenly stepped back, his face filled with anger. "I see you just don't want to help me! Do you think Nohara Hiroshi is better than me? Let me tell you, he just got lucky! If I had his resources, the works I produce would definitely be stronger than his!"
He glared at Takahashi Kazuo fiercely, turning around to walk towards the door: "If you won't help me, naturally someone else will! I'll go find President Sato, he definitely has a way to get a spot! Don't regret it when the time comes!"
The office door slammed shut with a "bang", leaving Takahashi Kazuo alone in his chair, his face looking extremely ugly.
He looked at the crumpled newspaper on the table. Nohara Hiroshi's photo was printed on it, his eyes calm and unhurried;
in stark contrast to Kamiki Shunsuke's arrogant appearance moments ago.
Takahashi Kazuo stood up, walked to the window, and watched Kamiki Shunsuke get into a black sedan and drive away.
An indescribable wave of anger surged in his heart—Kamiki Shunsuke was merely a pop idol. Emboldened by Sato Tokugawa's backing, he became increasingly arrogant at the station, not only disregarding the staff but even daring to casually threaten him, the Deputy Station Chief.
"This is outrageous!" Takahashi Kazuo cursed under his breath, his fists clenched tight.
He remembered his initial intention when he prepared for Tokyo City TV: to make some in-depth programs and change the cultural atmosphere of Tokyo City. Now, it had become田中 Mikami 's propaganda tool, barely surviving on Kamiki Shunsuke's popularity.
He walked over to his desk and opened the station's ratings report—the variety show "Tokyo Star Show" starring Kamiki Shunsuke had an 18% rating, making it the highest-rated program at the station. In contrast, all other programs, whether news or documentaries, sat below 5%.
If Kamiki Shunsuke really refused to record, the station's ratings would likely plummet. At that point, Tanaka Mikami would definitely lay the blame on him, jeopardizing his position as Deputy Station Chief.
"An idol star really takes himself too seriously." Takahashi Kazuo let out a cold laugh, disdain in his eyes. "The NHK symposium is to discuss documentary creation, not a fan meet-and-greet. What could he do there? Besides throwing tantrums and showing a bad attitude, what profound thing could he possibly say?"
He thought about his previous experiences working with Kamiki Shunsuke—during the variety show shoots, Kamiki Shunsuke not only arrived late and left early, but also ordered the crew about and couldn't even memorize simple lines. The final product relied entirely on post-production editing to piece it together.
For such a person to actually want to compare themselves with Nohara Hiroshi, considering themselves superior... it was nothing short of a massive joke.
But despite his anger, Takahashi Kazuo had no choice in the matter.
Most of Tokyo City TV's funding came from Sato Tokugawa's real estate company, and Kamiki Shunsuke was Sato Tokugawa's "canary";
no one in the station dared to offend him.
If Sato Tokugawa really stepped forward to get Kamiki Shunsuke a quota, even if NHK was unwilling, they would probably have to give some face.
"Leave it be, let them go." Takahashi Kazuo sighed and sat back down in his chair.
He picked up the phone and dialed the number of Tanaka Mikami's secretary—regardless of whether Kamiki Shunsuke secured the spot or not, he needed to report this in advance;
that way, he avoided assuming responsibility in the event of subsequent issues.
Once the call connected, Takahashi Kazuo's tone became respectful: "Hello, this is Takahashi Kazuo. I'd like to report something to Mayor Tanaka..."
The black sedan stopped in front of the Kirin Group building. Kamiki Shunsuke walked briskly into the elevator, his fingers sliding across his phone screen. His face darkened as he read the reports about Nohara Hiroshi online.
He couldn't accept that Nohara Hiroshi was valued more than him, and even less could he accept that he didn't even qualify to attend the symposium.
The elevator doors opened, and Kamiki Shunsuke walked straight towards Sato Tokugawa's office. A secretary tried to stop him but was pushed aside: "Is President Sato inside? I have an urgent matter to discuss with him!"
In the office, Sato Tokugawa was sitting on the sofa holding a real estate report. Seeing Kamiki Shunsuke barge in, a look of impatience appeared on his face: "Why are you in such a panic? Don't you see I'm busy?"
"President Sato, you must help me!" Kamiki Shunsuke walked up to Sato Tokugawa, his eyes slightly red, his tone carrying grievance, "NHK is holding a documentary symposium and they invited Nohara Hiroshi, but they didn't invite me! Deputy Station Chief Takahashi said he can't get me a spot. Please help me figure something out, I must go!"
Sato Tokugawa set down the report and glanced at him: "It's just a symposium, what's there to go to? Focus on shooting your variety shows and stop thinking about these useless things."
"This isn't useless!" Kamiki Shunsuke said hurriedly. "Nohara Hiroshi is getting more and more popular. If he steals the spotlight at the symposium, he will definitely overshadow me in the future! Besides, there will be officials from the Ministry of Education at this symposium. If I can go, I might meet some higher-ups, which would be good for my development too!"
He grabbed Sato Tokugawa's arm, his tone pleading, "President Sato, you dote on me the most. Will you help me just this once? If you say the word to NHK, they'll surely give you face."
Sato Tokugawa frowned, feeling somewhat hesitant.
He did have some connections with several higher-ups at NHK, and if he spoke up, he might just manage to secure a spot.
But he also knew that the theme of this symposium was about documentary creation. If Kamiki Shunsuke went, he wouldn't be able to get a word in and might even make a fool of himself.
"What could you do if you went?" Sato Tokugawa asked. "The symposium is to discuss documentaries;
do you even know what a documentary is? When the time comes and people ask you questions, and you can't answer, it's my face you'll be losing."
"I don't need to understand it!" Kamiki Shunsuke declared. "I just need to sit there so everyone knows I was also invited;
that will give me more face than Nohara Hiroshi. Plus, I can tell the reporters I came to learn. That way, I won't lose face and can build a reputation for being eager to study."
Sato Tokugawa looked at his eager face and suddenly found him somewhat ridiculous.
He shook his head and picked up the phone on his desk: "Alright, alright, I'll ask for you. But let me tell you, if NHK disagrees, don't make any more fuss."
Kamiki Shunsuke immediately broke back into a smile and nodded repeatedly: "Thank you, President Sato! Rest assured, if they say no, I definitely won't cause trouble!"
Sato Tokugawa called the chairman of NHK, a trace of arrogance in his voice: "Hello, it's me, Sato Tokugawa. Can you reserve a spot for me at your documentary symposium? I have an entertainer who wants to attend, which can also bring you some popularity."
The other end of the phone remained silent for a while before the chairman's courteous yet firm voice echoed: "President Sato, I'm truly sorry. The seats for this symposium were all decided by the Ministry of Education and cannot be increased randomly. Moreover, the invitees are all professionals in relevant fields. It's indeed inappropriate for entertainers to attend;
I ask for your understanding."
Sato Tokugawa's face darkened: "Why is it inappropriate? The entertainer under me is the star of Tokyo City TV. If he attends, your symposium will definitely get more attention. Communicate with the Ministry of Education again, just say it's my request."
"There's really nothing I can do, President Sato," the chairman said, his tone still polite. "The Ministry of Education specifically emphasized that this symposium must focus on professionalism and cannot mix in too many entertainment elements. If your entertainer wants to attend, the next time there's an entertainment-related activity, we will definitely prioritize inviting him."
Sato Tokugawa hung up the phone, his face looking extremely ugly.
He looked at Kamiki Shunsuke, who was full of expectation, and said impatiently: "Don't wait anymore, NHK disagreed. They said the quota was set by the Ministry of Education and cannot be increased."
Kamiki Shunsuke's smile instantly froze on his face. His eyes were filled with disbelief. "How could they disagree? Aren't you familiar with their higher-ups? Why wouldn't they give you face?"
"Face?" Sato Tokugawa laughed coldly. "In front of the Ministry of Education, what does my face count for? They value professionalism, not an idol who only throws tantrums!"
Kamiki Shunsuke turned pale. He suddenly stepped back, muttering to himself: "Impossible... They must have done it on purpose. It's to give Nohara Hiroshi face. They deliberately didn't invite me..."
He turned and bolted out of the office, his heart full of anger and unwillingness.
He looked at the Tokyo streetscape outside the window and secretly swore in his heart: Nohara Hiroshi, just you wait! One day, I will let you know that I am better and more valued than you!
Inside the office, Sato Tokugawa watched Kamiki Shunsuke's retreating figure and shook his head helplessly.
He picked up the real estate report on his desk, suddenly feeling that rather than wasting time on these useless artists, he should focus more on the real estate market—recently, Tokyo's housing prices have been rising faster and faster. If he could seize this opportunity, the money he earned would be far more than what promoting artists could yield.
Meanwhile, Kazuo Takahashi received a call from Tokugawa Sato's secretary, learning that NHK had not agreed to increase the quota. A wave of relief washed over him.
He leaned back in his chair and looked at the ratings report on his desk, suddenly feeling a strong sense of powerlessness—if Tokyo City TV kept relying on an artist like Kamiki Shunsuke, it would probably be eliminated by the market sooner or later.
He remembered Nohara Hiroshi's development at TV Tokyo and the impact brought by "A Bite," and suddenly felt somewhat envious—if Tokyo City TV also possessed talents of that caliber, perhaps it wouldn't be in its current pitiful state.
(Chapter Ends)