I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 232 Back to Tokyo! The Storm of the Economic Bubble! Hiroshi Nohara's Resolute Will!

The night air at Kumamoto Airport was exceptionally cool, carrying a hint of the salty, damp air of the sea, causing the shadows of the streetlights in the parking lot to sway gently.

At 10:30 p.m., the terminal building was as bright as a huge piece of warm jade, with the glass curtain wall reflecting the scattered stars in the night sky, and even the planes on the tarmac were glowing with a cold white light.

The Koyama family and Fujiwara Isshin stood by the railing outside the departure hall, not saying much.

Koyama clutched the cloth bag in his hand, his knuckles turning slightly white from the force, his gaze fixed on the plane taxiing in the distance—the flight that Hiroshi Nohara and Misae were going to take, the red lights on the wings like two slowly beating hearts, inching their way toward the end of the runway.

“Phew…” Mengya suddenly sighed softly, her voice carrying a hint of unconcealed grievance. She stood on tiptoe, trying to reach the direction of the plane, the Kumamon keychain on her backpack swaying back and forth: “I didn’t expect my brother-in-law and Misae to really leave… We were eating grilled mackerel together at an izakaya last week, how come they have to fly to Tokyo so soon.”

She looked down and tugged at the ear of the pendant, her tone even more dejected: "I haven't finished reading the last few chapters of Yu Yu Hakusho drawn by my brother-in-law yet. I thought I could get a few more pages of the original manuscript to read... Now, if I want to read the manga in advance, no one will give it to me anymore."

"All you ever think about are comics, comics!"

Yoshiji Koyama glared at her fiercely, his voice unconsciously rising a little, his hand gripping the felt hat so tightly it was deformed. "If you fall out of the top 100 in your grade again in the mock exams next semester, I'll confiscate all your comic books! You're already seventeen, and you're spending all your time on these useless things. How are you going to get into university? Do you think you can live off reading comics?"

Mengya shrugged, her lips pouting, her eyes reddening slightly, but she still muttered defiantly, "Comics aren't useless... My brother-in-law became a contracted author with Shueisha because of his comics, and they even made a live-action version of 'Midnight Diner,' which is loved by many people..."

"You dare to talk back?" Yoshiharu Koyama felt a slight pain in his back molars and couldn't help but reach out to hit her head, but Koyama grabbed him.

"Yoshiji Koyama! Why are you arguing with the children!" Koyama Takaya glared at him, then patted Yumeya's hair, her tone softening, "Yumeya only said that because she can't bear to part with Hiroshi and Misae."

Masaya, who had been silent until now, gently squatted down to be at eye level with Mengya, and pointed to the plane accelerating in the distance—the roar of the engine could already be faintly heard, and the lights on the wings cast a pale red line in the night.

"Mengya, don't be upset."

Maya's voice was gentle, as soft as the evening sea breeze. "If you can get into the top 50 in your grade in the next mock exam, I'll take you to Tokyo for summer vacation. We'll go to my brother-in-law's production department and ask him to save you the latest Doraemon manuscript. We can also visit Misae's manga club. Maybe Kobayashi-san will even draw a special Kumamon illustration for you."

"Really, big sister?"

Mengya suddenly raised her head, her eyes instantly brightening. Her previous grievances vanished in an instant. She grabbed Zhenya's sleeve and shook it hard: "You mean it? You can't lie to me! If I get into the top fifty, you really will take me to Tokyo to meet my brother-in-law?"

"Of course I mean it." Masaya nodded with a smile, reaching out to wipe away the tears that hadn't yet fallen from the corner of her eye. "When have I ever lied to you? But the condition is that you have to study hard. If you don't pass the exam, you won't have another chance."

"I'm sure I can pass!" Mengya immediately stood up straight, clenched her fists, all the wilfulness on her face disappeared, and even her voice became much crisper. "Starting tomorrow, I'll get up early to memorize vocabulary, and I won't read comics at night anymore. I'm definitely going to be in the top 50! I'll even get my brother-in-law to sign an autograph for me and show it to the people in the school's comic club so they can envy me!"

Seeing her instantly perk up, Koyama and Masaya both smiled.

Yoshiji Koyama pursed his lips and muttered, "Kids are so easy to coax," but the anger in his eyes had subsided considerably. He looked up at the plane—the silver passenger plane had already taken off, and the red lights on its wings gradually turned into a small dot in the distant night sky, soon to merge into the stars.

"Hmph, what's so great about Tokyo?"

Yoshiji Koyama suddenly spoke up, his voice carrying a hint of resentment, yet also a touch of nostalgia he himself was unaware of: "There are so many people and cars. Commuting to and from get off work on the subway is like fighting a war. Even getting a bowl of tonkotsu ramen requires waiting in line for half an hour. Unlike our Kumamoto, where you can play chess in the park in the morning, have hot soup at home at noon, and go to an izakaya in the evening to have a couple of drinks with old friends. It's so comfortable."

Koyama Takaya knew he was saying this on purpose because he was reluctant to part with Misae, so she didn't call him out on it. She just patted his arm gently and said, "That's true, but young people always have to go out and explore. It's a good thing that Misae is with Hiroshi and can run her own manga company in Tokyo. If we miss her, we can just take the Shinkansen and get there in three hours. It's not like we can't see her."

“That’s right, Dad,” Maya chimed in. “When I go to Tokyo with Isshin to coordinate with the prefectural government, I can also visit Misae and Hiroshi. Hiroshi said that once the Doraemon anime is completed, there will be a premiere in Kumamoto, and they will definitely come back then.”

Fujiwara Isshin stood quietly to the side, watching the direction the plane disappeared in, before speaking. His tone was calm and steady: "Uncle and Aunt, don't worry, I've already made an appointment with Hiroshi-san. I'll contact him via pager as soon as there's any progress in the development of the Kumamon IP. If Misae-san's manga company needs Kumamon materials, the prefectural government will also help coordinate so that she won't feel inconvenienced in Tokyo."

Yoshiharu Koyama nodded and didn't say anything more. He glanced again at the direction in which the plane disappeared in the night sky before slowly turning around: "Alright, the plane has flown far away, we should go home now. Yuya has to go to school tomorrow, and Koyama and I need to go to the company to check on the new Kumamon merchandise samples."

"Okay, let's go home." Xiaoshan Gaoya took his arm and then pulled Mengya's hand. "Mengya, don't forget to get up early tomorrow to memorize vocabulary. Don't go back on your word."

"Okay, Mom!" Mengya skipped along behind, the Kumamon keychain on her backpack swaying again. "I'll definitely get up at six tomorrow, and I'll have my older sister supervise me!"

The group slowly walked towards the parking lot.

The night wind was still blowing, and the airport streetlights cast long shadows of them, which then slowly overlapped.

The two cars drove out of the parking lot one after the other and headed home along the coastal highway.

The night outside the car window was dark, and occasionally you could see that the convenience stores on the roadside were still lit up, and the Kumamon dolls placed at the door looked especially friendly under the lights.

Mengya sat in the back seat, leaning against the car window, watching the street scenes flash by. Suddenly, she whispered, "Mom, do you think my brother-in-law and Sister Meiya are thinking about us on the plane?"

Koyama Takaya turned around, patted her head, and said with a smile, "Of course she will. Misae has never been away from home for this long since she was little, so she must miss us. But she's with Hiroshi and can do what she likes, so we should be happy for her."

"Mmm!" Mengya nodded emphatically, then her eyes lit up as she remembered something. "When I go to Tokyo this summer, I want to draw Kumamon comics with Misae-neechan, and I also want my brother-in-law to teach me how to do storyboarding! Maybe I can become a comic artist someday, just as good as my brother-in-law!"

Yoshiji Koyama, who was in the passenger seat, couldn't help but laugh when he heard this. Although he still had a straight face, his tone softened a lot: "If you can really become a manga artist, you won't need to go to university—but the premise is that you have to get into the top fifty in your grade first, otherwise it's all for nothing."

"Dad!" Mengya called out in dissatisfaction, but she wasn't really angry. She just muttered to herself, "I'm sure I can get into the top fifty. I'll make you look at me in a new light!"

Everyone in the car laughed. The night breeze blew in through the cracks in the car window, carrying a salty scent from the sea and a faint hint of cherry blossoms.

The cherry blossoms by the roadside are probably still quietly shedding their petals.

Fujiwara Isshin drove smoothly along the coastal highway. The distant sea surface glowed faintly in the night, and occasionally the lights of fishing boats would streak across the water like moving stars.

A slight smile appeared on his lips.

He recalled his conversation with Hiroshi-san about the "Kumamoto Future Development Plan" that afternoon, remembered Governor Muto's words about "giving young people in Kumamoto a reason to stay," and remembered Yume's words about "wanting to become a manga artist in the future." Suddenly, he felt that perhaps Hiroshi-san was right. Kumamoto's future lies not only in IP development and tourism, but also in these young people with dreams—whether they stay in Kumamoto or go to Tokyo to make their way, as long as they can do what they love, that is the best way to repay Kumamoto.

Everything is progressing well.

The car continued driving forward and soon exited the coastal highway, turning into a familiar residential area.

More and more cherry blossom trees are growing along the roadside, and occasionally a petal falls onto the car window, falling off with the slightest touch.

"We're almost home." Yoshiharu Koyama looked out the window at the familiar street and said, "I'm going to the company tomorrow morning. Go to the supermarket and buy some strawberries so that Yuya can eat some after she finishes memorizing her vocabulary and replenish her energy."

"Okay, I got it." Xiaoshan Gaoya nodded and patted Mengya's head again. "Mengya, stop humming. We're almost home. We'll get off the bus soon."

Mengya stopped humming, rubbed her eyes, and perked up again: "I'm sure I can memorize fifty words tomorrow!"

The car finally stopped at the entrance of Koyama's alley. Fujiwara Isshin got out of the car first and opened the car door for Koyama; Masaya also parked the car and came over to help Yumeya with her bag.

Yoshiharu Koyama was the first to walk into the alley, his steps lighter than when he went to the airport. Perhaps he was thinking about going to the company tomorrow to see the samples of Kumamon merchandise, or perhaps he was thinking about how Yume said she wanted to get into the top fifty.

"Isshin-san, thank you for bringing us here today." Koyama Takaya stood at the door and thanked Fujiwara Isshin. "Be careful on your way back."

"You're too kind, Auntie." Fujiwara Isshin bowed deeply. "I will, don't worry."

Masaya also said goodbye to him: "See you tomorrow."

"Okay, I'll remember." Fujiwara Isshin nodded, glanced at the door of the Koyama family's house one last time, and then turned and drove away.

Yoshiji Koyama opened the door, and warm yellow light immediately shone from inside, illuminating the bluestone slabs at the entrance.

Xiaoshan pulled Mengya into the house, saying as he changed her shoes, "Mengya, go wash up and go to bed. Get up early tomorrow to memorize vocabulary words, don't be late."

"Okay, Mom!" Mengya changed her shoes, grabbed her schoolbag, and ran upstairs. "I definitely won't be late tomorrow!"

Masaya also changed her shoes and said to Yoshiharu Koyama and Koyama, "Dad, Mom, I'm going upstairs first. I need to get up early tomorrow to review my work notes."

"Go ahead, don't stay out too late." Koyama nodded and took Koyama Yoshiharu's coat. "You've had a long day, go wash up and rest. You have to go to the company tomorrow."

Yoshiharu Koyama nodded, walked to the sofa in the living room and sat down. He glanced at the family photo hanging on the wall. In the photo, Misae was still wearing her high school uniform, Yume was holding a Kumamon plushie, Masae was standing in the middle, and he and Koyama were sitting on either side, smiling happily.

He sighed softly, but couldn't help but smile again—even though Misae went to Tokyo, as long as she could do what she liked, and as long as the family could still see each other often, that was enough.

Moreover, summer vacation is only three months away. If Mengya can really get into the top 50, her family might be able to get together in Tokyo. They can have a good drink with Hiroshi and chat about the latest developments of Kumamon.

The cherry blossoms outside the window are still shedding petals, and occasionally a petal drifts into the house and lands on the family photo frame.

Koyama Takaya brought over a cup of warm green tea and placed it in front of Koyama Yoshiharu: "Don't think about it anymore, have a cup of tea and get some rest. Misae is being taken care of by Hiroshi in Tokyo, she'll be fine."

Yoshiji Koyama picked up his teacup, took a sip, and let out a sigh of comfort as the warm tea slid down his throat.

He looked out at the night sky, then glanced at the family photo, and said softly, "Yes, everything will be alright. Our Kumamoto kids will thrive no matter where they are."

As night deepened, the lights in Xiaoshan's house gradually dimmed, with only the small lamp in the living room still on, illuminating the teacups on the table and the family photo on the wall.

The cherry blossom tree at the alley entrance was still swaying gently, its petals falling onto the bluestone slabs like a layer of light pink snow.

Meanwhile, over Tokyo, the plane carrying Hiroshi Nohara and Misae was flying smoothly.

Misae leaned on Hiroshi's shoulder, looking at the night sky outside the window, and whispered, "Hiroshi-kun, do you think Mom and Dad and Yume are home by now?"

Hiroshi Nohara took her hand, his fingertips warm to the touch, and said with a smile, "We've definitely arrived. Your mother is so thoughtful, she'll take good care of Yume and Uncle. Once we get to Tokyo, we'll call them tomorrow to let them know we're safe."

"Mmm." Misae nodded, leaned on his shoulder, slowly closed her eyes, and a faint smile remained on her lips—she knew that no matter where she was, whether in Kumamoto or Tokyo, as long as her family and Hiroshi were there, anywhere was home.

The plane continued flying, piercing the night sky, heading towards Tokyo. The red lights on its wings shone brightly in the darkness, like a guiding star, or a seed carrying dreams and warmth, about to blossom into new flowers on the land of Tokyo.

……

At 3 a.m., Tokyo was still basking in the lingering hustle and bustle characteristic of the late bubble economy.

As the taxi drove past the corner of Ginza, most of the neon signs outside the window were still lit. The signs of "Matsuya" and "Mitsukoshi Department Store" glowed with a warm yellow light in the night. Occasionally, office workers in suits would stagger out of an izakaya and start vomiting loudly on the roadside, creating a spectacular scene.

Hiroshi Nohara leaned back in the taxi seat, a half-smoked Seven Star cigarette between his fingers, the smoke condensing into a thin layer of fog on the car window.

Misae rested her head on his shoulder, breathing softly as she slept, clutching a strawberry daifuku packet she had brought from Kumamoto—it was given to her by Koyama Takaya to eat on the plane, but she hadn't been able to bear eating it the whole way, and now the packet was a little wrinkled from clutching it.

"Sir, we've arrived at the apartment building." The taxi driver's voice interrupted Hiroshi's thoughts. The old man glanced at him in the rearview mirror, smiled, and pointed out the window, "Your girlfriend is sleeping soundly; she didn't even wake up when we went through the tunnel."

Hiroshi stubbed out his cigarette and gently lifted Misae's head, his movements extremely light: "Please wait a moment, I'll help her down."

He took out his wallet to pay, and then helped Misae carry the suitcase that was placed beside her feet. Inside were her manga tools, local specialties given to her by the Koyama family, and a few sets of clothes for Hiroshi.

When Misae was gently shaken awake, her eyes were still blurry. She rubbed her eyes before she could see the apartment building outside the window: "We're in Tokyo?" Her voice was soft and nasal, as if she had just woken up. "It feels like I only slept for a little while on the plane. How did we get here?"

"Come on in, it's chilly outside." Hiroshi helped her wrap her scarf tighter and took her hand as they walked towards the apartment building.

The motion-activated lights in the hallway were awakened by the footsteps, and the warm yellow light gradually illuminated the two people's shadows on the wall.

As they opened the door, a familiar woody scent wafted out, instantly putting both of them at ease.

My mind was relaxed.

“It’s so much more comfortable at home.” Misae changed into slippers, put the strawberry daifuku on the coffee table, and sprawled on the sofa, stretching out with a big yawn. “While I was happy living in Kumamoto, it never felt as comfortable as here—by the way, Hiroshi-kun, which cabinet do I keep my manga tools in? I don’t think I tidied them up last time I came back…”

Hiroshi smiled and carried the suitcase in: "It's in the second closet in the bedroom, I've packed it for you. Don't worry about the tools yet, hurry up and wash up and go to bed, we have to go to Shueisha to submit our manuscripts tomorrow at noon." He looked at Misae yawning and couldn't help but ruffle her hair, "Go to sleep, I'll come over as soon as I've packed my luggage."

When Hiroshi finished packing his things and washed up before going into the bedroom, Misae was already asleep, hugging her pillow with a faint smile on her lips, probably dreaming about something.

He gently covered her with the blanket, lay down beside her, and looked at the chandelier on the ceiling. During the two weeks he was away from Tokyo, he always felt like he had endless things to do, from the IP collaboration with Kumamon to meeting Governor Muto and spending time with the Koyama family. Now that he was finally back here, he felt a strange sense of peace.

But Hiroshi Nohara, holding Misae, slowly fell asleep.

After some time, the sky outside the window gradually brightened, and the morning light shone through the gaps in the curtains, casting long, thin strips of light on the floor.

Hiroshi slept soundly until after noon, when he was awakened by the rumbling of his stomach. He stretched comfortably, his bones making a slight "click" sound, and turned his head to see Misae also open her eyes, smiling at him.

"Hiroshi-kun, you're awake?"

Misae's hair was a little messy, and her cheeks were flushed from just waking up. "I woke up a little while ago, but I didn't dare to wake you because you were sleeping so soundly—but it seems like we're both hungry. My stomach was growling really loudly just now."

Hiroshi chuckled at her words and reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "I am indeed hungry. I only had a cold bento box on the plane last night, and now I want something hot. What would you like to eat?"

"I want to eat teppanyaki in Ginza!" Misae's eyes lit up immediately, and she sat up and leaned closer. "I went with you once before, and the chef's steak was so tender, and the omelet had cheese in it, it was super delicious! Shall we go today?"

“Okay.” Hiroshi nodded, got up from the bed, and said, “Then you should wash up quickly, I’ll go get the car. By the way, do you want to go check out your manga company this afternoon? I can tell everyone about the prefectural government’s collaboration with Kumamon on merchandise design.”

"I'm going, I'm going!" Misae immediately jumped off the bed and ran to the bathroom. "I'm going to talk to Kobayashi-san about the new coloring scheme. The Kumamon she drew last time was so cute, it can definitely be used in merchandise!"

Half an hour later, Guangzhi drove his Toyota Crown out of the residential area.

He bought this car last year after winning an award for "Seven Samurai". The black body was polished to a shine. Even after two weeks, the car cover was only slightly dirty, and it was cleaned up again by the wind.

Misae sat in the passenger seat, holding a Doraemon manga, glancing up at the street scene outside the window every now and then—Tokyo was especially lively at noon, with crowds of people outside department stores in Ginza, female students in uniforms holding ice cream, and office workers hurriedly buying lunch outside convenience stores, all in stark contrast to the leisurely atmosphere of Kumamoto.

"Hiroshi-kun, look at that dessert shop!" Misae pointed to the "Fujiya" sign outside the window. "Last time, Yumeya said she wanted to eat their strawberry cake. How about we bring one back to Kumamoto for her next time?"

"Okay, I'll buy it when I go back next weekend." Hiroshi nodded with a smile, turned the steering wheel, and drove towards the teppanyaki restaurant.

About twenty minutes later, the car stopped in front of the "Kikuya" teppanyaki restaurant in Ginza—a 20-year-old establishment owned by an acquaintance of Hiroshi's, where the celebration party for the last "Tales of the Unusual" was held.

As you push open the wooden door, the unique aroma of teppanyaki wafts out.

The shop was already quite full of customers. When the owner, Kikuchi, saw Hiroshi, he immediately greeted him with a smile: "Hiroshi-san! Long time no see! This must be Misae-san, right? You came here once before, and I remember you liked the cheese omelet!"

"Hello, Kikuchi-san!" Misae smiled and bowed. "I'd like to trouble you again today to make a cheese omelet and a steak, medium-rare!"

"No problem!" Kikuchi led them to a window seat and handed them the menu. "Take a look first, I'll go prepare the teppanyaki. I promise you'll be satisfied with your meal!"

Hiroshi ordered two steaks, a cheese omelet, and a grilled shrimp. Just as he handed the menu back, he heard lively conversation coming from the next table.

There were four people who looked like friends, two men and two women, sitting in front of a griddle not far from them, chatting enthusiastically around a plate of fried squid.

"Have you heard? Mayor Tanaka Mikami held a campaign rally at Senso-ji Temple yesterday, saying that if he is re-elected, he will promote real estate development around Ginza and build three super high-rise apartment buildings!"

The speaker was a man in a suit, who looked to be around forty years old. He was holding a beer mug and his tone was full of excitement. "The apartment I bought in Ginza last year has already appreciated by two million yen! If Mr. Tanaka can really push for development, it might appreciate even more next year!"

"Really?" The woman next to her immediately leaned closer. She was wearing a kimono and looked like a housewife. "My husband also bought a small apartment in Shinjuku last year. Now the monthly rent can cover half of the mortgage. If the rent goes up again, we might be able to pay off the loan ahead of schedule!"

"you do not say!"

Another man chimed in. He wore glasses and looked like a small business owner. “Tanaka-san’s policies are so practical! Unlike Shimazu Yoshihiro, who talks all the time about ‘improving people’s livelihoods,’ raising the minimum wage, building nursing homes—but none of that compares to real estate. We ordinary folks just want our assets to appreciate so we can live a good life!”

"You can't say that."

The last old man spoke. His hair was gray, and he held a teacup in his hand. His tone was quite calm. "Mr. Shimazu said on the TV last time that he wanted to shorten the commute time in Tokyo to less than an hour and build more schools and hospitals in the suburbs. My grandson is currently studying in Chiba and has to take the train for two hours every day. If more schools can be built, it will be more convenient for my child to go to school."

“Grandpa, you don’t understand!” the man in the suit retorted immediately. “Schools and hospitals can be built anytime, but real estate opportunities are gone once they’re missed! Look at Tokyo’s housing prices now, they’re rising every day. If you don’t buy now, you’ll never be able to afford it later! Tanaka-san said he wants every Tokyo resident to be able to ‘make money through real estate,’ that’s what he’s doing for us ordinary people!”

“I think so too!” The woman in the kimono nodded. “My neighbor’s daughter married a real estate businessman last year and now lives in a big apartment in the Minato Ward. She drives to work every day. How impressive! If Mr. Tanaka can push for development, we might be able to live in a house like that too!”

"But Mr. Shimazu said that the current real estate boom is a bubble. If we keep building houses, everyone's assets will shrink when the bubble bursts!"

The old man insisted on his opinion: "I experienced the post-war economic crisis when I was young, and I know that a 'bloated' economy is unreliable. Only real policies that benefit people's livelihoods are effective—such as increasing pensions so that we old people can retire in peace. Isn't that more important than any increase in property value?"

"Grandpa, that's outdated thinking!"

The small business owner shook his head with a smile, "What time is it now? It's the peak of Japan's economy! How can real estate be a bubble? Look at Tokugawa Sato of the Kirin Group, he built ten apartment buildings last year alone, and they sold like hotcakes! With these big companies backing him, Tanaka-san will definitely be able to make Tokyo's economy even better!"

"That's right!"

The man in the suit took a sip of beer, his tone even more smug. "Last month when I went to the bank, the account manager told me that now is the most cost-effective time to take out a loan to buy a house. The interest rate is low, and house prices are rising fast. They could double in a few years! If Shimazu-san becomes mayor, he might restrict the real estate market. Then we won't even have a chance to make money!"

Misae, curious, gently tugged at Hiroshi's sleeve and whispered, "Hiroshi-kun, the Tanaka Mikami and Shimazu Yoshihiro they're talking about are the people running for mayor of Tokyo, right? You mentioned to me before that you supported Shimazu-san, didn't you?"

Hiroshi nodded, peeled the freshly grilled shrimp for her, and put them in her bowl: "Yes, Shimazu-san is the president of TV Tokyo. He gave me a lot of support when I was filming 'Seven Samurai'—and his policies are indeed more in line with people's lives, such as shortening commuting time and building more schools and hospitals, which are things that ordinary people really need."

“But they just said that Tanaka’s policies can increase property values, and everyone seems to support him.” Misae took a bite of grilled shrimp and said softly, “I don’t really understand these things, but Shimazu-san’s policies sound more welcoming—like the ‘Midnight Diner’ you drew. Although it doesn’t have many amazing things, it makes people feel comfortable.”

Hiroshi couldn't help but laugh, gently stroking her fair nose with his finger: "Our Misae is so smart, she hit the nail on the head right away. Real estate appreciation is only temporary, like a bubble that will burst at the slightest touch, but livelihood policies can truly improve everyone's lives—but you don't need to worry about these things, just eat well. After dropping you off at the manga club this afternoon, I'll go to the TV station and chat with Director Sakata about the election campaign."

"Ok!"

Misae nodded emphatically, picked up a piece of steak and held it to Hiroshi's mouth, "Hiroshi-kun, you should eat too, this steak is so tender, it's even better than the horse meat sashimi I had in Kumamoto!"

Hiroshi opened his mouth to catch it, and seeing Misae's happy expression, his heart secretly tightened.

The conversation those people just had actually represented the thoughts of most people in Tokyo right now.

In the current economic climate, everyone is blinded by the false prosperity of the real estate market, thinking that as long as they buy a house, they can make money, and they are completely unaware that a crisis is approaching.

Tanaka's policies catered to this mentality, and while Shimazu took a long-term approach, they lacked appeal due to their lack of "excitement."

“Although I don’t care about Japan’s economy at all, Shimazu Yoshihiro’s background is still with TV Tokyo, so I can’t just stand by and do nothing.” Hiroshi Nohara stroked his chin, still supporting Shimazu Yoshihiro in his heart.

Now that he has proposed the information cocoon solution, Yoshihiro Shimazu's reputation among the public is still not comparable to that of Mikami Tanaka.

This is troublesome.

"Hiroshi-san, your cheese omelet is ready!"

Just as Hiroshi Nohara was deep in thought, Kikuchi brought over a plate of golden omelets, sprinkled with chopped seaweed. "Try it, just like you said last time, I put double the cheese in it!"

"Thank you, Kikuchi-san." Misae immediately picked up her fork, forked a piece, and put it in her mouth. Her eyes lit up instantly. "Wow! It's so delicious! There's so much cheese, and it's so stretchy! Hiroshi-kun, you have to try some!"

"Okay, good." Hiroshi smiled and forked a piece. The aroma of cheese spread in his mouth; it was indeed delicious.

But his mind wasn't entirely on the food.

He knew that this Tokyo mayoral election was not just a contest between two people, but a confrontation between two approaches: whether to continue indulging in the false prosperity of real estate, or to focus on developing people's livelihoods in a down-to-earth manner.

As a member of TV Tokyo and a supporter of Shimadzu, he felt obligated to do something, at least to let more people see the true value of Shimadzu's policies.

"Hiroshi-kun, what are you thinking about?" Misae asked softly when she saw him lost in thought. "Are you worried about the TV station? If you're busy, you don't need to take me to the manga club this afternoon. I can take the train myself."

"Nothing, I was just thinking about work." Hiroshi snapped out of his thoughts, smiled and shook his head. "No rush, I can take you to the manga studio and then to the TV station in time—eat up, the omelet won't taste good if it gets cold."

Misae nodded and resumed eating intently, occasionally sharing a piece of steak with Hiroshi or chatting about the manga club: "Kobayashi-san drew an illustration of Kumamon holding a strawberry daifuku last time, it was so cute, I think it could be printed on keychains, I'm sure people would buy it. And Sato-san, she wants to draw a series of manga about Kumamon in Tokyo, like going to Tokyo Tower, going to Senso-ji Temple, that way it can both promote Kumamon and make people in Tokyo like it even more."

“That’s a great idea.” Hiroshi nodded. “We can bring up these ideas next time we meet with the Kumamoto Prefectural Government. Maybe we can even get more funding for the collaboration. By the way, if your manga company needs any help, just let me know. I can transfer two people from the production department to help out.”

“No need!” Misae immediately waved her hand. “Everyone in our company is very talented. Kobayashi’s coloring skills are getting better and better, and Sato’s storyboards are also excellent. There’s no need to trouble the production department. Besides, we want to do this well ourselves, just like Hiroshi did with ‘Yamishibai’ back then, and create something amazing on our own.”

Looking at her earnest expression, Hiroshi felt a surge of pride.

Although Misae may seem carefree, she is actually very opinionated and resilient.

Just like her insistence on running the comic book store herself and not wanting to rely on his help all the time, this indomitable spirit made him admire her even more.

The conversation at the next table continued. The man in the suit was excitedly talking about how much his property had appreciated, the woman in the kimono was planning to buy another small apartment, the elderly man was still talking about the importance of livelihood policies, and the small business owner was debating whether to cooperate with Sato Tokugawa to develop real estate.

As Hiroshi listened to these conversations, he understood even more clearly.

Tokyo today is like a balloon being blown bigger and bigger. Everyone is enjoying the pleasure of the expansion, but no one notices the cracks in the balloon.

"Hiroshi-kun, I'm full!" Misae put down her fork and patted her round belly. "I'm so full, even more full than at the farewell banquet in Kumamoto!"

"It's good that you're full." Hiroshi paid the bill, took Misae's hand and walked out of the store. "Let's go to the manga club now, so you can tell everyone about Kumamon."

As I stepped out of the teppanyaki restaurant, the Ginza sun was shining brightly, its warmth comforting me.

Misae skipped ahead, pointing to the cherry blossom trees by the roadside and saying, "Hiroshi-kun, look! The cherry blossoms in Tokyo bloom a little later than in Kumamoto, and they haven't faded yet! Next time, we can bring Yumeya here to see the cherry blossoms and then eat Kikuchi-san's teppanyaki!"

"Okay." Hiroshi nodded with a smile, and seeing Misae's happy expression, his worries were temporarily put aside.

Regardless of the election results or how many difficulties lie ahead, he will protect those around him and do what he is supposed to do—just as he thought when he drew "Midnight Diner," even if the world is noisy, he will hold on to that warmth and sense of security.

The engine of the Toyota Crown roared to life again, carrying the two of them towards the comic book club.

The Toyota Crown smoothly drove into the office building district where the Future Comics Studio was located. The April sunlight shone through the car window, casting dappled light on the "Kumamon Design Sketches" that Misae was holding.

Her fingertips lightly traced across the paper—it was the first draft she had stayed up all night drawing when she was in Kumamoto Prefecture. Kumamon was wearing a strawberry daifuku-shaped hat, holding a wooden sign that read "Welcome to Kumamoto," and its round belly was printed with light pink cherry blossom patterns.

Although my drawing skills are average, they are sufficient.

“Hiroshi-kun, look, I drew the outline of Mount Aso on Kumamon’s scarf.”

Misae turned her head, her eyes sparkling, her tone full of undisguised pride, "This way, people will remember the scenery of Kumamoto without it seeming too deliberate. If it were made into a keychain, the scarf part could be made of flocked material, which would feel even more comfortable to the touch."

Hiroshi Nohara's gaze fell on the sketch, and his fingertip lightly touched a small detail near Kumamon's feet—there was a mini version of Doraemon, holding up the Anywhere Door and smiling at Kumamon.

He couldn't help but curl the corners of his lips: "This collaboration is very clever. It's not abrupt at all, and it can also take advantage of the popularity of Doraemon to promote Kumamon. When you get to the comic book club later, tell everyone that if the county government asks about the design concept, explain all these details clearly, and they will definitely approve."

“Yes!” Misae nodded emphatically, carefully folding the sketch and putting it into her bag as if she were holding a precious treasure. “I was also planning to tell everyone that starting next week, we’ll work overtime two nights a week to try and finish all the merchandise designs by the end of the month. Governor Muto said he wants to use them at the Kumamoto tourism promotion event next month, so we can’t afford to waste time.”

As they were talking, the car had already stopped downstairs in front of the office building where "Future Comics Club" was located.

Hiroshi helped Misae rent this building last year. It is located in a relatively quiet neighborhood. The entire third floor is the space for the manga club. It has good natural light and a small balcony where the club members can occasionally sunbathe and discuss storyboards.

Hiroshi helped Misae unbuckle her seatbelt and then took out the horse jerky that Koyama Takaya had given him from the trunk—Misae had specially brought it to share with the commune members.

“Go upstairs, I’ll pick you up tonight.” He ruffled Misae’s hair, his tone softening unconsciously. “If you encounter any problems you can’t solve, call me anytime. If I’m not busy, I’ll come right away.”

"Okay!" Misae tiptoed and quickly tapped his cheek, then blushed and ran towards the office building with her bag. After a couple of steps, she turned back, waved her arm, and shouted, "Hiroshi-kun, be careful on the road! Tonight we're going to eat your favorite tonkotsu ramen!"

"Okay." Hiroshi smiled and watched her figure disappear at the entrance of the office building before getting back into the car, starting the engine, and driving towards TV Tokyo.

It takes about ten minutes to drive from here to Chuo Ward, where Tokyo TV is located.

Along the way, you can see many shops with signs that read "Real Estate Agency". The glass doors are covered with posters for "High-end Apartments in Minato Ward" and "Shinjuku Tower Apartments". The prices are outrageously high, but there are still office workers in suits surrounding the agents and asking questions. This is Tokyo at the end of the bubble economy. Everyone seems to be caught up in a frenzy about "asset appreciation", and no one is willing to stop.

Hiroshi gripped the steering wheel, his gaze calmly sweeping over the posters.

He knew that this frenzy wouldn't last long. In less than two years, when the bubble burst, most of these people who were rushing to buy houses would be overwhelmed by heavy mortgage payments.

But there was nothing he could change; he could only try his best to prepare those around him before the storm came.

(End of this chapter)