I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 220 Kumamon's Silly Deeds! Filming is underway!

Night falls earlier in Kumamoto than in Tokyo. Just after seven o'clock, only a few convenience stores outside the window had their warm yellow lights on.

Hiroshi put down his pencil. His knuckles were a little sore from holding the pencil for so long. He rubbed his wrist and was about to get up and go downstairs for dinner when his phone suddenly vibrated in his pocket.

Hiroshi took out his phone, and the words "Asukai" appeared on the screen. He raised an eyebrow and pressed the answer button.

"Good evening, Nohara-san." Asumi's calm voice came from the other end of the phone, with the faint sounds of discussion typical of a TV station office audible in the background: "Did I disturb your rest?"

"Deputy Director Asahi, you're too kind. I just finished drawing a few pages of storyboards and was about to have dinner." Hiroshi walked to the window, pushed it open halfway, and the evening breeze carried the faint scent of cherry blossoms in: "Calling at this hour, is it urgent?"

Asumi chuckled softly on the other end, her tone clearly amused: "Nothing urgent, but there is some good news. The results for the awards you were nominated for are all in—the Japan Academy Prize, the Mainichi Film Awards, and the Tokyo Drama Awards. You've won so many of those awards that our station is keeping a close eye on."

Hiroshi paused for a moment, not out of surprise, but because he hadn't expected the result to come so quickly.

He was busy drawing comics and also took time to help improve the Kumamon project, so he had long forgotten about the award ceremony.

"What exactly did you take?" Hiroshi leaned against the windowsill, his tone still calm, as if he were asking someone else's question.

"Your mindset is pretty steady." Asumi clicked her tongue twice on the other end, her voice tinged with excitement as she announced the awards: "Japan Academy Film Prize, Best New Director, Best Original Screenplay, and 'Tales of the Unusual' won Best Anthology Drama; the Mainichi Film Awards are even more impressive, you were nominated for Best Director, and although you didn't win, just being on the same nomination list as Eiji Kurosawa and the others is already a huge recognition; the most amazing thing is the Tokyo Drama Awards, Best Animation went to 'Yamishibai,' Best Variety Show went to 'Super Transformation,' and you even swept the Best Creative Award—all in all, seven or eight awards, big and small, you're going to empty this year's awards pool."

Asumi's tone became wistful: "To be honest, Nohara-san, when I was your age, I was still doing odd jobs for my seniors. If I could get a nomination for a minor award, I could brag about it to my colleagues for half a month. But you, you've won all the core awards of the three major awards. No one would believe it if you told them—a director in his twenties, you're the first in the entire Japanese film and television industry."

Hiroshi listened to Asumi's感慨 (feelings/reflections), and the corners of his mouth turned up slightly, but he did not follow up with his boasting. He simply said, "It's all thanks to the station. Director Sakata gave me the authority of the independent production department, and the section chiefs like Yamamoto Takeshi kept a close eye on the projects they were working on. Without them, I couldn't have won these awards by myself."

“You’re always so modest.” Asumi smiled helplessly. “Director Sakata was just saying in his office that if you hadn’t always pushed the credit onto others, all the media in Tokyo would be camped out at your door right now. By the way, after Director Kurosawa Eiji found out the results, he specifically asked me to tell you that when you return to Tokyo, he wants to treat you to his treasured sake. He rarely praises people like that.”

Hiroshi recalled how Eiji Kurosawa was when he filmed "Seven Samurai." The old man was already 64 years old, but he would still arrive at the set at 5 a.m. every day to oversee the props team polishing the details of the samurai swords, even making sure that the wood grain on the scabbard matched historical records.

For someone as obsessed with film as him, having his work recognized makes him happier than receiving any award.

"When I return to Tokyo, I will definitely pay a visit to Director Kurosawa." Hiroshi replied, "By the way, Deputy Director Asumi, you called so late, it couldn't just be to deliver good news, could it?"

He knew Asumi too well. This deputy director from Kanto TV was always thorough in his work. If it was just about the award, a page would have been enough; there was no need to make a long-distance call.

Asumi paused for two seconds on the other end, then her tone turned serious: "There is indeed something else I need to tell you—you may not have heard from Kumamoto, but here in Tokyo, Tokyo TV recently made a huge blunder, even messing up the Tokyo Drama Awards."

"Tokyo TV?" Hiroshi frowned. This station was specially set up by Kazuo Takahashi after Tanaka Mikami was elected mayor of Tokyo last year. To put it bluntly, it is the "mouthpiece" of the municipal government. It had never made a splash before, so why is it suddenly causing a stir?
"It's normal that you haven't paid attention. They've been making some bland municipal promotional videos, and hardly anyone watches them."

Asumi's voice carried a hint of sarcasm: "They really went all out for this year's Tokyo Drama Awards—Best Actor went to Shunsuke Kamiki, Best Actress went to a newcomer they just signed, and even Best Romance Drama went to their own production, 'Tokyo Love Song.' As soon as the results were announced, the entire Tokyo media went wild, with accusations of rigging and boycotts of the awards. Even our station's Keiko Matsumoto said in an interview, 'This result is an insult to the audience.'"

Hiroshi's eyes turned cold when he heard the name "Shunsuke Kamiki".

He had previously dealt with Tokugawa Sato of Kirin Entertainment and knew that this Shunsuke Kamiki was Sato's "canary," with terrible acting skills but always thinking about using his connections to climb the ladder.

We had an unpleasant argument last time, and I didn't expect this guy to still be involved.

"With acting skills like Kamiki Shunsuke's, he can win Best Actor?" Hiroshi's tone was clearly contemptuous: "In 'Tokyo Sonata,' he even needed eye drops for crying scenes, and his lines sounded like he was reciting a textbook. Is Tokyo TV treating the audience like idiots?"

“Indeed.” Asumi sighed. “I heard that Sato Tokugawa invested 500 million yen in Tokyo TV for this, and even helped them secure several real estate advertising sponsorships. Tanaka Mikami also gave it a push behind the scenes to curry favor with Sato—after all, the real estate projects in Sato’s hands are very important for his re-election next year. And what was the result? As soon as the awards were announced, the credibility of the Tokyo Drama Awards plummeted. Even their own viewers sent protest letters saying they would never watch the awards again.”

Hiroshi leaned against the windowsill, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the edge.

He wasn't surprised that capital would get involved in the award selection process; the Japanese film and television industry has never been a clean slate. He just didn't expect Tokyo TV to be so short-sighted, disregarding even basic decorum.

"Actually, our station never expected this award to be very fair in the first place."

Asumi's voice softened a bit: "The Tokyo Drama Awards are a local award for the Tokyo area. Our station's participation was just to give Tanaka Mikami face. Now that they've ruined their reputation, it's actually a good thing for us—think about it, our station has flagship programs like 'Tales of the Unusual' and 'Super Transformation,' as well as the awards you just won. We don't need these local awards to boost our image. But Tokyo City Television is different. They don't have any outstanding works to begin with, and they rely entirely on this award to increase their visibility. Now that they've turned the award into a joke, who will watch their programs in the future?"

Hiroshi nodded slightly; Asumi was right.

TV Tokyo is a long-established media outlet with the widest range of publicity channels in Japan. Its coverage in the Kanto region alone is three times that of Tokyo Metropolitan Television. It also has long-term partnerships with print media such as Asahi Shimbun and Yomiuri Shimbun, so it has no shortage of exposure.

But Tokyo TV is different. Their signal coverage is limited to the Tokyo metropolitan area, and their audience base is already small. Now, they have lost credibility due to the scandals surrounding the awards, and it will be extremely difficult for them to recover.

"Speaking of which, Kazuo Takahashi is probably worried to death right now." Asumi's tone carried a hint of schadenfreude: "He was saying in private that he wanted to make Tokyo TV into 'Tokyo's number one cultural platform,' but less than half a year later, this scandal has broken out. Tanaka Mikami even called him to the city hall yesterday and gave him a good scolding. I heard that when he came out, his face was as white as paper."

Hiroshi recalled Kazuo Takahashi, the man transferred from the city government's propaganda department, who always wore a sharp suit and spoke succinctly, but had no real skills.

At the Tokyo TV party last time, he even came over to talk to me, implying that he wanted to cooperate. Now it seems that this person doesn't even understand the basic rules of the industry.

“They’re just short-sighted.” Hiroshi’s voice was tinged with indifference. “They only see the immediate benefits, but forget that the most fundamental thing in media is ‘credibility.’ Capital can buy awards, but it can’t buy the audience’s eyes—if the audience doesn’t buy it, no matter how high the awards or how high the ratings are, it’s all meaningless.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Asumi agreed. “Managing Director Takada was saying in his office today that Tokyo TV is ‘digging its own grave.’ And I also know that last month, Kanto TV also encountered a situation where capital tried to interfere with program production, but Deputy Director Takada directly shut them down—if media professionals can’t even uphold their own bottom line, what’s the difference between them and those businessmen who only know how to make money?”

Hiroshi raised an eyebrow when he heard the name Takada Toshihide.

This executive deputy director used to be a core figure in the Tokyo faction. He has always looked down on Asumi, who came from Kanto Taiwan. He even had a conflict with him over the production rights of "Seven Samurai".

Now that even he has come out to say such things, it seems that the factional struggles within TV Tokyo have indeed eased considerably compared to before.

"Managing Director Takada certainly has a clear understanding."

Hiroshi said calmly, "But that's normal. The planning for the Greater Tokyo Metropolitan Area is already on the agenda. If TV stations still cling to the old ideas of the 'Tokyo faction' and the 'Kanto faction,' they will be eliminated sooner or later. Sakata-san also told me before that TV Tokyo will follow the 'Greater Tokyo Integration' route in the future, and there can be no more internal divisions. If Takata-san can't even see this point, he won't be able to sit in the position of executive deputy director."

Asumi laughed on the other end: "You really know Sakata-san's thoughts perfectly. To be honest, Nohara-san, Sakata-san values ​​you more and more now. At the last board meeting, someone suggested promoting you to second-level director, and he immediately decided to 'wait a bit. Nohara-san's abilities deserve better'—you're the only one in the entire company that he would protect like this."

Hiroshi didn't respond. He knew that Nobuhiko Sakata was good to him not only because he could achieve results, but also because the two shared the same ideas on "media responsibility".

Nobuhiko Sakata has always wanted to transform TV Tokyo into a "media with warmth," and his "Super Transformation" broke the indifference of the Japanese, "Tales of the Unusual" sparked reflection on social issues, and "Seven Samurai" broke out of the framework of traditional kendo films. All of these perfectly match Nobuhiko Sakata's philosophy.

"By the way, Nohara-san, when are you going back to Tokyo?" Asumi suddenly asked. "Director Sakata said he'd throw you a celebration party when you come back, and Kurosawa Eiji-san and Matsumoto Keiko-san have already agreed to attend. Also, the preparations for the live-action sequel to 'Midnight Diner' are almost complete. Sato Kenji has been urging us several times, saying he wants to talk to you about the details of the script."

Hiroshi glanced at the Kumamon design sketches on the table, which also had several sticky notes on them, noting down the precautions for making the doll.

He thought for a moment and said, "Things here in Kumamoto aren't finished yet. The Kumamon plush toy samples I got for the Kumamoto Prefectural Public Relations Department won't be ready until next week, and the filming location for the short film hasn't been decided yet either. I estimate I'll have to stay in Kumamoto for another half a month until things are sorted out here before I go back to Tokyo."

“Okay, take your time, no rush.” Asumi readily agreed: “I’ll put the celebration banquet on hold for you. As for the script of ‘Midnight Diner,’ I’ll have Kenji Ito put together a first draft, and you can revise it when you get back. By the way, how are you and Misae doing over there?”

When Misae was mentioned, Hiroshi's tone softened considerably: "She's doing well, busy with her manga every day. This time she came back to meet her parents, and I plan to finalize our marriage plans—it's not a solution to keep putting it off."

Asumi exclaimed in surprise on the other end, "Really? Congratulations! Misae-san is a wonderful girl, gentle and capable, a perfect match for you. When you get married, you absolutely must invite me to your wedding!"

"Definitely." Hiroshi smiled. The night outside the window grew even darker. Misae's voice came from downstairs: "Hiroshi, dinner is ready. Come down and eat!"

"I have to go now, Misae is urging me to eat." Hiroshi picked up his phone. "I'll contact you again when I get back to Tokyo."

"Okay, go eat now, goodnight." Asuka said and hung up the phone.

Hiroshi put away his phone and walked to the stairwell, where he saw Misae standing downstairs with a bowl of tempura in her hand and a sweet smile on her face: "Hiroshi, who are you talking to on the phone? You've been talking for so long, the food is almost cold."

"Talk to Asumi-san from TV Tokyo about the awards." Hiroshi walked downstairs and took the bowl from Misae. "Oh right, I forgot to tell you earlier, we won several awards. When we get back to Tokyo, Sakata-san is going to throw me a celebration party. I'll take you with me."

Misae's eyes lit up immediately: "Really? Then can I meet Eiji Kurosawa? When I watched 'Seven Samurai,' I especially loved the shots he directed; they were so powerful! And Keiko Matsumoto, I've watched 'Yesterday's Cherry Blossoms' so many times and cried so many times!"

Seeing Misae's excited expression, Hiroshi couldn't help but ruffle her hair: "Of course, I'll introduce you two later. But right now, we need to eat first, or the tempura won't be crispy."

"Yes!" Misae nodded vigorously and pulled Hiroshi's hand as they walked towards the restaurant.

Inside the restaurant, Yoshiharu Koyama and Takaya Koyama were already seated at the table, which was set with tempura, chicken and corn soup, sashimi, and a plate of freshly baked dorayaki—all of Hiroshi's favorite dishes.

"Hiroshi, who were you talking to on the phone just now?" Yoshiji Koyama asked while pouring Hiroshi a beer. "Misae said it was someone from TV Tokyo?"

"Yes, Deputy Director Asumi, let's talk about the awards." Hiroshi sat down, picked up a piece of tempura, and bit into the crispy outer layer. The shrimp meat inside was tender and juicy, just like the taste in his memory. "I won a few awards. Director Sakata said that when I return to Tokyo, he will hold a celebration banquet."

Yoshiharu Koyama's eyes lit up, and he quickly asked, "What award? Is it one of those you mentioned before?"

"Yes, I won the Japan Academy Prize, the Mainichi Film Awards, and the Tokyo Drama Awards," Hiroshi said casually, as if it were a very ordinary thing.

Koyama Takaya's chopsticks fell to the table with a "clatter." She quickly picked them up, her voice filled with disbelief: "Are you serious? Those are some of the most prestigious awards in all of Japan! Hiroshi, you actually won so many awards!"

Misae excitedly grabbed Hiroshi's arm: "Hiroshi, you're amazing! I knew you could do it! When we get back to Tokyo, I'm going to brag to everyone at the manga club that our president's boyfriend is the best director in all of Japan!"

Seeing the family's excitement warmed Hiroshi's heart.

He raised his beer glass to Yoshiharu Koyama and said, "Uncle, Aunt, Misae, thank you for your continued support. This glass is for you."

Yoshiharu Koyama also raised his glass, his eyes slightly red: "We should be toasting you. Hiroshi, you are so capable and sensible. It's Misae's good fortune to be with you. No matter what happens in the future, the Koyama family will always be your support."

Koyama Takaya nodded in agreement, constantly piling food onto Hiroshi's plate: "Yes, eat more. You must be exhausted lately. Tomorrow I'll make you your favorite salmon ochazuke and also stew some angelica chicken soup to help you recover."

Misae sat beside Hiroshi, her eyes filled with admiration and love.

She recalled the first time she met Hiroshi. On the platform, he was wearing a sharp suit and asked her for directions. It just so happened that they were going the same way, so they chatted a lot on the train and became acquainted.

Back then, she felt that this man must be extraordinary, and now it seems that her judgment was indeed correct.

……

Dusk falls faster in Kumamoto Prefecture than in Tokyo. Just after six o'clock in the afternoon, a faint gray-blue hue had already enveloped the courtyard of the Fujiwara family mansion. Fujiwara Isshin placed his black briefcase, provided by the prefectural government, on the entryway cabinet. The crisp sound of the leather buckles clinking together carried a hint of lingering fatigue—he had spent the entire afternoon at the prefectural government working on the budget for Kumamon with the planning department, without even having time for a cup of hot tea. At that moment, he felt as if his shoulders were weighed down by two pieces of lead.

"Young Master Yixin, you're back."

Aunt Kukubo, the nanny, dressed in a navy blue kimono, came out of the kitchen with a hand towel in her hand. Her smile showed the familiarity she had developed from taking care of this family for many years: "Master just came in five minutes ago and is changing clothes in the inner room. Dinner is ready. It's your favorite Chikuzen-ni and grilled mackerel. It will be on the table in ten minutes."

"Thank you for your help, Aunt Jiu Jiu Bao."

Fujiwara Isshin took the handkerchief, his fingertips brushing against the fine lines of the fabric, and only then did he feel his tense nerves relax a little.

He bent down to change his shoes, and the sound of his wooden clogs in the entryway startled the inner room. The sliding door was pulled open with a "whoosh," and Fujimoto Maru walked out wearing loose beige loungewear, the silver strands in his hair particularly noticeable under the warm yellow light.

"Why are you half an hour later than usual today?" Fujimoto Maru's voice carried the composure characteristic of an old-school civil servant. He walked to the low table, sat down, picked up the cold tea on the table, took a sip, and glanced at his son's slightly pale face: "Is the matter at the prefectural office getting in the way again?"

Just as Fujiwara Isshin was about to answer, light footsteps came from the direction of the kitchen. Fujiwara Temari walked over carrying a plate of freshly cut apples, the red apple slices still glistening with water droplets.

She placed the plate between the two of them, reached out and touched her son's forehead, her voice full of concern: "Yixin, why do you look so pale? There are even bruises under your eyes. Have you not been sleeping well lately?"

"Mom, it's nothing, I'm just a little busy." Fujiwara Isshin avoided his mother's hand, picked up a piece of apple and stuffed it into his mouth. The crisp and sweet flesh did little to relieve his fatigue, but instead made the dryness in his throat more noticeable.

He picked up the teacup on the table and drank more than half of it in one gulp before he could recover.

Fujiwara Temari, however, persisted. Sitting opposite her son, she tapped her fingers lightly on the low table: "Something that could exhaust our family like this must be no small matter. Tell me, has the prefectural government assigned you another difficult task? Last time you said you wanted to help promote that director named Nohara Hiroshi, was that related to this?"

When "Hiroshi Nohara" was mentioned, Fujiwara Isshin paused for a moment.

He put down his teacup, his fingertips unconsciously rubbing the rim of the bowl. After a few seconds, he nodded: "Yeah, I've been busy with Kumamon. Today I went over the accounts with the people in the planning department. They felt that the budget for doll production and short film shooting was too high. It took us all afternoon to barely settle on the figures."

"Kumamon?" Fujiwara Temari's eyes lit up. She leaned forward, her tone filled with curiosity: "Is it the cartoon bear character you mentioned before, designed by Hiroshi Nohara? I remember you said you wanted to use it to promote Kumamoto's specialties and attractions, right?"

“Yes.” Fujiwara Isshin nodded, recalling Hiroshi Nohara’s design sketches—a round, black body, two red cotton blushes, and a red bib with citrus patterns; its adorable appearance was indeed endearing.

So he said with a smile, "Hiroshi-san said that this image can break everyone's old impression that Kumamoto is 'only about volcanoes and samurai,' and make young people feel that Kumamoto is a cute and friendly place."

Fujiwara no Maru, who had been silent until now, suddenly put down his teacup, his gaze falling on his son, and his tone becoming more interested: "Oh? Is that Nohara Hiroshi, who's been very popular in the Tokyo film and television industry lately? I just saw a report about him in the Asahi Shimbun today, saying that his animated films and TV dramas have won several awards and that he's been called the 'father of the new school of samurai films.' It's quite interesting that you're working with him."

"Dad, you also know he won an award?" Fujiwara Isshin was a little surprised. He thought his father usually only read current affairs news, but he didn't expect him to pay attention to things in the film and television industry.

Fujimoto Maru smiled and tapped his fingers lightly on the low table: "At yesterday's meeting at the prefectural government, Governor Muto Masao mentioned him, saying that his 'Hachiko' publicity campaign for Akita Prefecture and Tokyo was very successful, and that we in Kumamoto should learn from him. But I didn't pay much attention to it—a young man in his twenties, even if he has some talent, how well can he do local publicity? It's just some novel ideas that young people like."

Upon hearing this, Fujiwara Isshin immediately sat up straight, her tone tinged with urgency: "Dad, please don't say that. Hiroshi-san isn't just someone who comes up with new ideas; he's incredibly meticulous. Take the design of Kumamon, for example. He even thought of the breathable layer for the mascot costume, and he specifically asked us to use local red cotton for the blush, which is both distinctive and can boost local industries. He also said that we should first familiarize the people of Kumamoto with the character, and then promote it nationwide through variety shows on TV Tokyo. He's planned everything step by step."

Fujimoto Maru raised an eyebrow, picked up his teacup, took another sip, and said with a hint of disdain, "Oh? No matter how well-planned, it still depends on the actual results. Haven't we done enough promotion in Kumamoto? A few years ago, we launched the 'Aso Volcano Sightseeing Route,' spending tens of millions of yen, but the number of tourists only increased by less than five percent; last year, we wanted to promote horse meat sashimi, even setting up counters in Tokyo department stores, but in the end, it all fizzled out because we weren't famous enough. Can a cartoon character be more effective than these solid promotions?"

"Dad, this is different!" Fujiwara Kazushi almost stood up in his anxiety. He remembered what Hiroshi Nohara had told him about the "cute pet concept" and quickly explained, "Hiroshi-san said that Kumamon isn't just a simple promotional tool, but rather something to be developed into a 'cultural symbol' of Kumamoto. Just like Disney's Mickey Mouse, when you think of Mickey, you think of happiness; when you think of Kumamon, people will think of Kumamoto's cuteness and warmth. He also said that Kumamon should appear on 'Super Transformation'—that's the highest-rated variety show in all of Japan. If he can appear on that show, audiences all over the country will be able to see Kumamon!"

Fujiwara Temari listened from the side, nodding repeatedly with approval in her eyes: "I've also seen 'Super Transformation,' it's so much fun! Last time I watched it with my neighbor, we laughed until we cried. If Kumamon could appear in it, I'm sure a lot of people would love it."

But Fujimoto Maru still shook his head, his tone still calm: "Isshin, you're still too young and think too simply. It's not that easy to get on TV Tokyo's variety shows. Even if you could get on, would a cartoon character showing up be enough to make everyone remember Kumamoto? I doubt it. Our promotion of Kumamoto still needs to rely on solid policies and industries. These superficial things are completely useless."

"Father!"

Fujiwara Kazuto hurriedly pulled a newspaper from his briefcase, slammed it onto the low table, and pointed to the article, "Look! This is yesterday's Yomiuri Shimbun. It says that Hiroshi-san won Best Director and Best Screenplay at the Japan Academy Film Prize, and the ratings for the TV Tokyo show 'Super Transformation' broke 40! Could he have done all that if he wasn't capable? He said Kumamon would be a hit, and he definitely will!"

Fujiwara no Honmaru and Fujiwara no Temari both looked at the newspaper at the same time.

The headline, in bold black font, reads "23-year-old director Hiroshi Nohara sweeps three major film and television awards," accompanied by a photo of him receiving his first award—wearing a black suit, standing on the stage, holding a trophy, his gaze calm and determined, making him look nothing like a young man in his twenties.

The report also detailed his achievements: "Yamishibai" pioneered the "urban ghost story anime" genre, "Tales of the Unusual" sparked nationwide discussions on social issues, "Seven Samurai" was hailed as a "classic that surpasses traditional kendo films," and even his manga "Yu Yu Hakusho" and "Doraemon" became bestsellers, selling over a million copies.

As Fujiwara Temari read the report, she couldn't help but exclaim, "My goodness, Hiroshi Nohara is amazing! He's only 23 years old and has already won so many awards, and he's a year younger than Isshin! Isshin, you're so lucky to be able to work with him."

Fujimoto Maru's expression changed as well. He picked up the newspaper and looked at it carefully, his finger lightly tracing the article. His tone became more serious: "I didn't expect this young man to be so capable."

"Dad, do you believe me now?"

Fujiwara Isshin's tone carried a hint of pride: "Hiroshi-san is not only talented, but he also knows how to stir the audience's emotions. He certainly didn't just say that Kumamon would be a sensation throughout Japan. We've already made arrangements with the prefectural government; we'll start making a sample doll next week, shoot a short film at the end of the month, and by next spring, we'll be able to see Kumamon on TV Tokyo!"

Fujimoto Maru put down his newspaper, looked at his son's excited expression, and smiled slightly: "Good, good, I was wrong before. Since you are so confident and have such capable people to help you, then do this project well. If it can really be done, it will not only help Kumamoto boost its economy, but it will also benefit your future development in the prefectural government."

"Thank you, Dad!" Fujiwara Isshin finally breathed a sigh of relief, and a genuine smile appeared on his face for the first time that day.

Just then, Aunt Jiu Jiu Bao's voice came from the kitchen: "Master, Madam, Young Master Yi Xin, dinner is ready and can be served."

Fujiwara Temari stood up, smiled, and patted her son's shoulder: "Alright, stop talking about work and eat first. You've had a long day, so you need to eat something nourishing. I specially asked Aunt Kukubo to make you Chikuzen-ni, with your favorite konjac and quail eggs in it."

"Okay!" Fujiwara Isshin nodded and followed his parents into the restaurant.

At the dining table, warm yellow light illuminated the exquisite dishes, and the aroma of Chikuzen-ni filled the entire room.

Fujiwara Temari kept putting food on her son's plate, saying, "Eat more mackerel to get more protein; this konjac is good for your stomach. You've been staying up late a lot lately, so you need to take good care of yourself."

Fujimoto Maru also poured his son a glass of sake, his tone gentle: "Try this. It's a ginjo sake that I had someone bring back from Kyoto. It's very smooth and won't give you a headache. When you're working with Hiroshi Nohara, if you have the chance, you can also invite him for a drink—young people should communicate more; you might come up with more good ideas."

"I understand, Dad." Fujiwara Isshin picked up his sake glass and clinked it with his father's. The rich aroma of sake spread in his mouth, and his fatigue seemed to dissipate a lot.

He ate quickly, but his mind was already planning tomorrow's work—he needed to coordinate details with the doll manufacturing company and scout locations at the Aso volcano scenic area to find a filming location for the short film.

Although he is still very busy, the thought that Kumamon might become a sensation throughout Japan in the future fills him with energy.

"Mom, Dad, I'm done eating." Fujiwara Isshin put down his chopsticks and picked up his briefcase. "I need to hurry back to my room to finish the rest of my work. I have to report the progress to Hiroshi-san tomorrow."

Fujiwara Temari looked at him with some concern: "Don't you want to rest a little longer? You haven't rested much today."

"No, Mom, work is more important." Fujiwara Isshin smiled and turned to walk towards his room. "I'll spend more time with you and Dad after I'm done with this busy period."

Watching her son's retreating figure, Fujiwara Temari sighed and said to Fujiwara Honmaru, "This child is exactly like you when you were young. He forgets everything as soon as he gets busy with work. But thankfully, Hiroshi Nohara is helping him this time, so things should be a bit easier."

Fujimoto Maru put down his wine glass, his gaze falling on the night outside the window, and said with a touch of emotion, "Yes, having a good partner is very important. This Nohara Hiroshi is not only talented, but also knows how to be down-to-earth—you can see it from the details of his design for Kumamon. He's not someone who's eager for quick success. Being able to learn from him is better than anything else."

In the room, Fujiwara Isshin turned on the desk lamp and spread the documents from his briefcase on the table.

Under the lights, the design of Kumamon stands out, the round black bear seemingly smiling at him.

He picked up his pen and began revising the budget to be submitted to the prefectural government the next day. The pen scratched across the paper, as if he were sketching out the future of Kumamoto.

He knew that the road ahead was long and there would be many difficulties, but as long as he thought of Hiroshi Nohara's plans and his parents' support, he felt full of confidence.

Perhaps before long, this adorable little bear will bring a different future to Kumamoto.

……

As the morning light began to spill over the glass curtain wall of the Kumamoto Prefectural Government building, Fujiwara Isshin stood in the parking lot, clutching two documents.

One document was a special budget for Kumamon approved by the Ministry of Finance, and the other was a filming permit stamped by the Public Relations Department. The edges of the papers still carried the residual warmth of the printer.

He had just tossed his briefcase into the passenger seat of the old Toyota when he saw Hiroshi Nohara emerge from the convenience store on the street corner, carrying two bags of hot taiyaki (fish-shaped cakes) with Kumamoto-style citrus patterns printed on them.

"Nohara-san!" Fujiwara Isshin quickly stepped forward and handed over the documents: "The Ministry of Finance just stamped the document at nine o'clock this morning, and the Publicity Department's permission came through at the same time. If there are no unforeseen circumstances, the funds will be transferred to the prefectural government's special account this afternoon, and the filming can proceed exactly as planned!"

Hiroshi took the document, his fingertips brushing over the red seal on the cover that read "Key Project of Kumamoto Prefectural Government," then he took a bite of taiyaki, the sweet aroma of red bean paste mingling with the warm steam.

He munched on a snack and turned to the budget sheet. His gaze lingered on the figures for "doll production cost" and "short film shooting cost." When he looked up, there was a hint of a smile in his eyes: "Two days faster than expected. Your prefectural government is certainly more efficient than the Tokyo Metropolitan Government."

"It's all thanks to you," Fujiwara Isshin said with a smile. "The governor specifically called the planning department in yesterday and gave them a lecture, saying that if they delayed the progress of Kumamon, they would all have to write a self-criticism. By the way, the leather case production that you asked me to oversee was all completed yesterday evening. The production company said that it was done exactly according to your design drawings, and even the red cotton used for the blush was sourced from a cotton mill in southern Kumamoto."

"How is the texture of the red cotton?"

Hiroshi stopped in his tracks, his fingers unconsciously tracing the edge of the document: "I specifically told them beforehand that the blush couldn't be made of synthetic fabric, it had to be made of local red cotton, which would look softer and also be associated with Kumamoto's specialty—if the quality is poor, the shots will look cheap."

"Don't worry, I went to see the samples yesterday!" Fujiwara Isshin nodded, his tone full of confidence: "The red cotton feels soft to the touch, and it even has a natural sheen under the light, much nicer than synthetic fabric. And as you said, the breathable layer of the suit has been reinforced with two layers of ice silk lining, so the staff won't get heatstroke even if they wear it all day. Oh, and they also sewed small pockets into the claws of the suit as you requested, enough to hold ten citrus-flavored candies, which will come in handy when interacting with tourists."

Hiroshi nodded in satisfaction and was about to talk about the filming crew when he heard steady footsteps behind him, accompanied by a familiar, hearty laugh: "Nohara-san, Isshin, what are you two chatting about here? I saw you on the third floor!"

The two turned around and saw Yamada Ichiro, dressed in a dark gray suit and carrying a black briefcase, walking briskly toward them.

As he approached, Hiroshi noticed that half of the shooting schedule was sticking out of the side pocket of his briefcase, with several colorful sticky notes attached to it.

"Minister Yamada? What brings you here?" Fujiwara Isshin was somewhat surprised. Yesterday, it was clearly agreed that he and Hiroshi would handle the filming crew matters, but he didn't expect Yamada Ichiro to come in person.

Yamada Ichiro chuckled twice, patted Hiroshi on the shoulder, and said excitedly, "I was just worried you'd be getting impatient! Everything about the filming crew is ready. The cinematographer is a veteran borrowed from Osaka TV who previously filmed 'Kansai Scenery,' so he's especially experienced in outdoor shooting. The lighting and sound teams are the backbone of our prefectural station. They went to the Aso Volcano area yesterday to scout the location and even marked the best shooting angles—now we're just waiting for your command to start filming at any time!"

As the head of the propaganda department, how could he possibly remain indifferent at such an important time?
Of course, we need to prepare well!

(End of this chapter)