I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 235 Reform! Suzuki Kiyoto's Advice! Nohara Hiroshi's Determination! Misae's Blessing!

The Toyota Crown stopped in front of the Sakura Saki Izakaya just after seven o'clock.

Hiroshi opened the car door, and the evening breeze carried the aroma of grilled mackerel. This izakaya, located in the backstreet of Ginza, had a small storefront. The words "Sakura" on the wooden signboard were illuminated by warm yellow lights, giving it a gentle glow, much like an old photograph from the Showa era.

As soon as he stepped onto the stairs, he saw a familiar figure sitting by the window.

Kiyoto Suzuki was wearing a navy blue wool sweater with two buttons undone at the collar, revealing a white shirt underneath. He was staring blankly at the street scene outside the window.

The last rays of the setting sun had just faded, and the light from the streetlights fell on his thin face, revealing fine wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, but unable to conceal the composure in his gaze.

Hiroshi strode over, bowed slightly, and said with obvious apology, "Suzuki-senpai, I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. I encountered some traffic on the way and was ten minutes late—it was impolite of me to make you wait."

Suzuki Kiyoto snapped out of his reverie, saw it was him, and smiled gently, waving his hand: "Oh, Hiroshi-kun, you're too kind. I arrived around 5 o'clock. I was originally going to talk to advertisers from Kanto TV, but they said they'd prefer to cooperate with the city TV station, so the meeting ended early. I was just waiting for you here, so it wasn't really waiting."

He pointed to the seat opposite him: "Sit down, sit down. I've already asked the owner to reserve our usual grilled mackerel and your favorite cold tofu. They were just served and are still warm."

Hiroshi sat down and noticed that there were already two small dishes on the table: one was a dish of neatly cut cold tofu, drizzled with light brown bonito flake sauce; the other was a dish of salt-roasted ginkgo nuts, with slightly charred and crispy shells.

The owner of the izakaya was an old man with gray hair. He came over with a ceramic bowl and said to Hiroshi with a smile, "Nohara-san, it's been a long time! Last time you said our sake was too strong, so this time I specially reserved some light sake from Akita for you. It has a low alcohol content and goes perfectly with grilled mackerel."

"Thank you for your help, Matsumoto-san." Hiroshi nodded his thanks, his gaze sweeping over the next table—several office workers in suits were drinking around the table, their conversation interspersed with words like "housing prices" and "stock market," and bursts of hearty laughter could be heard from time to time. This was a common sight in Tokyo nights at the end of the bubble economy.

Looking into his eyes, Suzuki Kiyoto followed his gaze and sighed softly, "Business is tough these days. The company that just talked to me was 'Marui Soy Sauce' from Kanto. They used to work with Kanto TV for ten years, spending 20 million yen on advertising every year, but this year they said they're going to transfer their budget to Tokyo TV—they said that the city's 'Tokyo Surrounding Area Exploration' program is going to film their soy sauce factory and even hired Shinji Kamiki as the host. Young people love watching it, and it'll boost sales."

He picked up the freshly poured sake cup, took a sip, and said with a tone full of helplessness, "Do you know how difficult it is for Kanto TV to get advertising these days? Last month, I accompanied the head of Kanto TV's advertising department to five companies. Four of them said 'wait a little longer,' and one said directly, 'The budget has been given to the city TV station.' In the past, Kanto TV's advertising department could sign a billion yen worth of contracts just at the year-end investment conference. Now, half a year has passed, and they've only signed three hundred million yen worth of contracts. They can't even afford to pay the production department's salaries."

Hiroshi picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of cold tofu and put it in his mouth. The delicate tofu was coated with the freshness of bonito flakes, but he couldn't really taste the flavor.

Looking at Suzuki Seito's tired expression, he suddenly understood why Suzuki had advised him not to take the job on the phone earlier—it wasn't just about making a program; it was about reviving the nearly dead Kanto TV from a mess.

"Matsumoto-san, could you please tidy up the private room? We'd like to talk about something," Hiroshi suddenly said to the owner.

He knew it wasn't convenient to say what was coming up in the outside room; Sakura's private room was well soundproofed and was a place they used to go to discuss work.

Grandpa Matsumoto nodded immediately: "Yes! It's all ready. It's in the 'Matsu' room at the very back on the second floor. I'll take you up there now."

The two followed the owner upstairs to the second floor. The private room was small, with a traditional Chinese ink painting of cherry blossoms hanging on the wall and charcoal burning in a fireplace in the corner, making the room warm and cozy.

Matsumoto brought in the dishes and wine, smiling as he said, "Please enjoy your meal, gentlemen. I'll come back in twenty minutes to serve the hot dishes, without disturbing your conversation—this is the French-style pan-fried foie gras that Nohara-san likes. I've asked the kitchen to keep an eye on the fire so it will be served piping hot."

"Thank you." Hiroshi nodded, and after the owner closed the door, he picked up his glass and raised it to Suzuki Kiyoto. "Mr. Suzuki, let me toast you first. No matter how difficult things are at Kanto TV, I will remember your kindness in telling me the truth."

Suzuki Kiyoto also raised his glass and lightly clinked it against his, the crisp sound echoing in the quiet private room: "You little rascal, still trying to pull this on me. I watched you go from a newcomer to the 'billion-yen director' you are now, and I didn't want you to fall into the trap of Kanto TV—Takada and Asumi entrusted this to you because they trusted you, but the twists and turns in this are more numerous than when you were filming 'Tales of the Unusual'."

He put down his wine glass, his fingers tapping lightly on the edge of the table, as if organizing his thoughts: "When you first joined TV Tokyo, you probably didn't hear about the old feud between TV Tokyo and TV Kanto. In the mid-3s, TV Kanto was incredibly powerful! Their show 'Kanto Scenery' had a viewership rating of 18%, three points higher than our 'Tokyo Panorama.' Advertisers were scrambling to work with them, and even NHK was trying to poach their directors. Back then, TV Tokyo couldn't stand this kind of thing."

Hiroshi paused, his hand holding the wine glass. He had heard of the name "Kanto Scenery," but he didn't know there was so much behind it.

"The then-director of TV Tokyo was none other than Ryuichi Koike, the current Governor of Tokyo. He told the board of directors, 'We must surpass TV Kanto.' How did they do it? By seizing advertising resources—TV Tokyo offered advertisers a 30% discount if they didn't cooperate with TV Kanto; by poaching talent—TV Kanto's core directors were given double the salary and promised to become production managers; they even fought over program slots—TV Tokyo's 'Kanto Folklore' aired on Sunday nights at 8 PM, and TV Tokyo moved 'Tokyo Wide Angle' to the same time slot and even hired the hottest actress at the time as the host."

Suzuki Seito's voice deepened, tinged with the bitterness of reminiscence: "We fought like this for over ten years, and then Kanto TV couldn't hold on any longer. Advertising revenue dropped by half, seven of our core directors left, the ratings for 'Kanto Folklore' plummeted to 8%, and our cash flow dried up. Four years ago, TV Tokyo acquired it for a paltry 8.4 billion yen—calling it an acquisition was really like picking up scraps; Kanto TV already had 5 billion yen in debt at the time."

Hiroshi frowned: "Since it's an acquisition, why not integrate it properly? Instead, let it survive by relying on broadcasting?"

"Why wasn't it integrated?" Suzuki Kiyoto gave a wry smile. "When it was first acquired, Sakata was still the head of the production department. He wanted to merge the production teams of Kanto TV and TV Tokyo. But what happened? The veteran employees from Tokyo TV said, 'The people from Kanto TV don't know how to make national programs,' while the veteran employees from Kanto TV said, 'The people from TV Tokyo are too impetuous.' The two sides argued every day, and they couldn't even hold program selection meetings. In the end, Sakata had no choice but to let Kanto TV broadcast TV Tokyo's programs first, and wait until the storm passed before making any further decisions—and that wait lasted for four years, completely destroying Kanto TV's vitality."

Just then, there was a knock on the door, and Mr. Matsumoto came in carrying hot dishes.

A plate of grilled mackerel, its skin crispy and steaming hot; a plate of sukiyaki, the beef sizzling in the pan; and a plate of pan-fried foie gras, topped with blueberry sauce, its aroma instantly filling the private room.

"Please enjoy your meal, gentlemen. I'll be going now." Matsumoto put down the dishes and quietly closed the door.

Hiroshi picked up a piece of foie gras and put it in his mouth. The rich, oily flavor of the foie gras mixed with the sweet and sour taste of blueberries, and the texture was so delicate that it felt like it was melting.

Looking at Suzuki Seito, he suddenly understood why Suzuki had advised him to refuse—TV Tokyo had used many methods to suppress TV Kanto back then, and now allowing TV Kanto to revive would be tantamount to "raising a tiger to cause trouble." Once TV Kanto rises, it will definitely compete with TV Tokyo for resources and viewers.

"Mr. Suzuki, are you worried that if Kanto TV really recovers, it will become a rival to TV Tokyo?" Hiroshi put down his chopsticks and asked seriously.

Suzuki Seito looked up, a hint of surprise in his eyes, then nodded: "You really are smart. Right now, TV Tokyo's variety show division has taken first place in annual ratings with 'Super Transformation'; in the drama division, your 'Tales of the Unusual' and 'Midnight Diner' occupy half of the prime-time slot; in the film division, your two movies have grossed over 20 billion yen—if TV Kanto rises up, and does a local variety show to grab ratings, or shoots a rural drama to share advertising revenue, do you think those departments at TV Tokyo would be willing?"

He picked up his glass, took another sip, and spoke with an air of experience: "Last year, when Asano Kita was filming 'Warm Family,' the ratings barely reached 15%, and people were already saying it was 'stealing viewers from Kanto TV's local dramas.' Asano even had a fight with a veteran director from Kanto TV. Now that you're trying to revive Kanto TV, those people will only be more dissatisfied—at that point, you'll not only have to fight the old fogies of Kanto TV, but also your own people from TV Tokyo. What's the point?"

Hiroshi fell silent.

He was only thinking about how to make good programs and how to revive TV Kanto, but he didn't consider the internal power struggles within TV Tokyo.

Just as Suzuki said, television stations are not just about "making programs," but also about factions, interests, and personal relationships, which are much more complicated than making a movie or producing a variety show.

"Then why do you think Director Sakata asked me to do this?" Hiroshi suddenly asked.

He didn't believe that Nobuhiko Sakata couldn't see these problems. Since he dared to entrust this matter to him, he must have had deeper considerations.

Suzuki Kiyoto put down his glass, his eyes sharpening as if he had seen through the crux of the matter: "Because the city station—Tanaka Mikami—approved a 1 billion yen 'development fund' for the city station and even had Takahashi Kazuo poach our people. It's obvious they want to take market share from TV Tokyo. The Kanto region has 30 million viewers, accounting for one-third of the Greater Tokyo Area. If the city station takes this market, TV Tokyo will become a 'TV station within Tokyo,' no longer the 'leader in the Greater Tokyo Area.'"

He drew a circle on the table with his finger: "Sakata's idea is to 'use one station to control another'—to revitalize the Kanto station and make it a 'local shield' for the Tokyo station, blocking the city station's attacks. The Kanto station is familiar with the local market, can produce local programs that the city station can't, and can attract local advertisers that the city station can't take away. Once the city station is suppressed, the Kanto station and the Tokyo station can be gradually integrated to create a 'Greater Tokyo Area Program Belt'—for example, the Tokyo station can produce national variety shows, and the Kanto station can produce local news and cultural programs, with a clear division of labor and no conflict between them."

"But it's not that easy to implement, is it?" Hiroshi pressed.

He knew that Sakata's idea was good, but his subordinates might not be willing to cooperate—the long-time employees of TV Tokyo didn't want to share resources, and the long-time employees of TV Kanto didn't want to be managed; there were too many conflicts in between.

"Of course it's not easy."

Suzuki Kiyoto sighed, picked up a piece of sukiyaki beef and put it in his mouth. "Take Matsui Yuichi, the head of the production department at Kanto TV. He used to work with me at Kanto TV. He's as stubborn as a mule. He feels that TV Tokyo owes Kanto TV something. Now, if we ask him to cooperate with the reforms, he definitely won't be happy. And then there's TV Tokyo's variety department. Your 'Super Transformation' is his pride and joy. If Kanto TV makes a similar local variety show, even if you create another variety show, he'll still run to Sakata's office and slam his fist on the table."

Hiroshi picked up his sake glass, took a sip of sake, and the cool liquid slid down his throat, making his mind clearer.

He looked at Suzuki Seito and suddenly smiled: "Mr. Suzuki, you're telling me all this not because you really want me to refuse, but because you want me to know the difficulties involved and be prepared, right?"

Suzuki Kiyoto paused for a moment, then smiled, his wrinkles crinkling at the corners of his eyes with a hint of relief: "You're still so smart, kid. If I really wanted to persuade you to refuse, I wouldn't have said all this to you—Kanto TV is a tough nut to crack, but it's also an opportunity. If you can revitalize it, you'll not only gain a foothold in the station, but you'll also let more people see the value of 'local programs,' which is more important than making a few movies."

He picked up his chopsticks, took a piece of grilled mackerel, and remarked with emotion, "When we were filming 'The Scenery of Northeast China,' we went to the countryside in Northeast China for interviews. An old lady said, 'I hope TV can show more about things happening around us.' Nowadays, TV stations are all thinking about making 'big productions' and 'national programs,' forgetting that local audiences also need to be seen. Your 'Midnight Diner' became popular precisely because it was close to the lives of ordinary people. The reform of the Northeast TV station is actually based on the same principle as 'Midnight Diner.' As long as we produce what the audience wants to see, there is hope."

Hiroshi's heart skipped a beat.

Suzuki is right. Whether in Tokyo or Kanto, what audiences want is never "big productions," but content that can make them feel "warmth"—like a bowl of cat food in "Midnight Diner" or a local story in "Kanto Folklore." These are the things that can keep audiences engaged.

“Mr. Suzuki, I’ve made up my mind.” Hiroshi put down his wine glass, his eyes firm. “Tomorrow I’ll go to Kanto TV for research. I’ll talk to Director Matsui and the young directors first, and see what they think. You’ve worked at Kanto TV before and know a lot of people. Could you help me make some connections? For example, Director Matsui, and that Honda director you mentioned before who wants to do ‘Old Street Exploration’.”

Looking at his determined eyes, Suzuki Kiyoto breathed a sigh of relief and nodded with a smile: "No problem! Matsui may be stubborn, but he understands programming. As long as you can come up with a good plan, he will definitely be willing to cooperate. I've talked to Honda, that girl. She has a lot of ideas, but she just needs an opportunity. If you can give her a chance, she will definitely be able to make a great program."

He raised his glass to Hiroshi again: "Then I'll toast you again! I wish you great success—if you encounter any difficulties, feel free to call me anytime. Although I can't be of much help, I have some old connections in Kanto Taiwan and can help you out."

Hiroshi raised his glass and clinked it with his: "Thank you, Mr. Suzuki. No matter what the final result is, I will do my best—not for anything else, but for the viewers who are still waiting for good programs from Kanto TV."

The crackling charcoal fire in the stove cast shadows of the two people.

The night outside the window grew darker, and the lights of Sakura Saki Izakaya shone through the windows onto the street like a string of warm pearls.

Looking at the dishes on the table, Hiroshi suddenly felt an appetite—the freshness of the grilled mackerel, the sweetness of the sukiyaki, the aroma of the pan-fried foie gras, mixed with the delicate fragrance of sake, all spread in his mouth. This was the taste of a Tokyo night, and also the taste of "beginning".

He knew that the road ahead would definitely not be easy.

He faced resistance from long-time employees, internal conflicts of interest, and competition from city-level stations, but he was not afraid.

Just like when he was making "Yamishibai," no one was optimistic about it, but he still persevered; when he was making "Seven Samurai," some people said that "samurai films are outdated," but he still made something different.

The reform of Kanto TV is just another "program" that needs to be done with care. As long as the right direction is found, it can always produce stories that the audience likes.

“By the way, Mr. Suzuki,” Hiroshi suddenly remembered something, “you mentioned before that Kanto TV is experiencing a serious loss of young directors and producers. I’m thinking of selecting ten young directors and producers from Kanto TV to come to my production department for a three-month training program. What do you think?”

Kiyoto Suzuki's eyes lit up: "That's a great idea! Young directors need to learn new production concepts. Your production team consists of people who have made good programs. They will definitely learn a lot from you. When they go back, they can lead the production team at Kanto TV. This is much easier than you teaching them yourself."

He added with a smile, "I'll talk to the personnel department of Kanto TV tomorrow and have them compile a list of young directors so you can choose when you do your research. By the way, are Hashimoto and Ito coming with you? One of them understands animation, and the other understands local programs; they can be of a lot of help to you."

“Yes, I’ve already told them.” Hiroshi nodded. “Hashimoto is in charge of looking at animation-related materials, and Ito is in charge of discussing ideas for livelihood-related programs. With them there, the research will go more smoothly.”

The two then discussed the specifics of the Kanto region.

Mr. Matsumoto came in and refilled the wine twice. Seeing that the two were chatting happily, he smiled and didn't disturb them.

Around nine o'clock, Hiroshi glanced at his watch, stood up and said, "Mr. Suzuki, it's getting late. You have to go to work tomorrow. Let me take you home."

Kiyoto Suzuki also stood up, smiling and shaking his head: "No need, my house isn't far from here, it's only a ten-minute walk. You should go home early, Misae-san is still waiting for you at home—don't keep her waiting."

Hiroshi recalled Misae's message on his pager and couldn't help but smile: "Then I'll see you to the door."

The two men walked out of the private room and downstairs. Mr. Matsumoto was standing behind the counter calculating the bill. Seeing them come out, he smiled and said, "Take care, gentlemen! Come again next time!"

Hiroshi nodded his thanks and accompanied Suzuki Seito to the entrance of the izakaya.

The streetlights cast long shadows on Suzuki Seito.

“Hiroshi-kun, remember this.” Suzuki Kiyoto suddenly stopped and looked at him seriously. “The reform of Kanto TV is not about ‘moving TV Tokyo’s programs to Kanto TV,’ but about ‘making programs that Kanto viewers want to watch.’ Don’t let the station’s internal conflicts of interest hold you back, and don’t let other people’s doubts influence you. Follow your own ideas—that’s what you’ve always done, haven’t you?”

Hiroshi felt a warmth in his heart and nodded: "I'll remember, Mr. Suzuki."

Kiyoto Suzuki patted him on the shoulder and turned to walk into the night.

Hiroshi watched his figure disappear around the street corner before turning around and starting the Toyota Crown.

The car drove onto the streets of Ginza, and the neon lights outside the window flashed by.

Hiroshi gripped the steering wheel, but his mind was calm—the problems of Kanto TV were complex, but as long as the core issue of "the audience" was grasped, there would always be a solution.

Just like the owner of "Midnight Diner," no matter what stories the customers have, he can always give them a warm meal; what he wants to do is to give the viewers of Kanto TV a program that can make them feel warm.

……

It was already 9:30 p.m. when the Toyota Crown pulled up in front of the apartment building.

Hiroshi turned off the engine and picked up the bag of desserts he had specially bought by taking a detour from the passenger seat—the cheese omelet from Marina's dessert shop in Ginza was still warm, and the strawberry cake wrapped in an ice pack in the paper bag, with pale pink cream and bright red strawberry pieces visible through the packaging. This was something Misae had mentioned wanting to eat several times last week.

As soon as he reached the apartment door, he heard the scratching sound of a pencil scraping through paper coming from inside.

Pushing open the door, warm yellow light spilled out from the living room. Misae was lying on the coffee table, clutching a colored pencil in her hand, her nose almost touching the drawing paper. She was so focused that she didn't even notice him coming in.

The coffee table was covered with design sketches of Kumamon: some depicted Kumamon running at the foot of Mount Aso with a strawberry daifuku in hand, others showed him wearing a kimono and attending a festival at Kumamoto Castle, and the top one even had some chocolate stains on it, obviously from when she was eating snacks earlier.

"Still not asleep?" Hiroshi changed his shoes, put the bag of desserts on the entryway cabinet, and deliberately walked over quietly.

Misae looked up abruptly, saw it was him, and her eyes lit up instantly. The pencil in her hand fell to the coffee table with a "thud".

She pounced on him like a little bunny, wrapping her arms around his waist and pressing her cheek against his suit jacket. Her voice was still soft and sleepy: "Hiroshi-kun! You're back! I've been waiting for you for so long. I thought you were going to chat until late!"

Hiroshi smiled and ruffled her hair, smelling a faint scent of orange shampoo in her hair: "I chatted with Mr. Suzuki for a while. I bought you some dessert on the way, the strawberry cake you said you wanted to eat last time."

"Strawberry cake?!" Misae immediately let go of her hand, her eyes fixed on the paper bag on the entryway cabinet. She quickly ran over, opened it, and carefully took out the strawberry cake.

Seeing the strawberries covered in icing on the cake, she couldn't help but swallow hard. She turned to Hiroshi with a fawning smile and said, "Hiroshi-kun, can I have a piece first? Just a small piece, and then I'll finish the rest of the sketch."

Hiroshi shook his head helplessly and went over to help her open the cake box: "Eat it, just don't get it on your drawing paper. I put the cheese omelet in the kitchen, heat it up later before eating, it won't taste good if it's cold."

"Yay!" Misae cheered, picked up a small fork, and put a piece of cake in her mouth. The sweetness of the cream and the sweet and sourness of the strawberries spread in her mouth. She squinted her eyes in satisfaction, like a cat that had just eaten a dried fish: "Wow! It's so delicious! It's even better than the honey cake I had in Kumamoto last time! Hiroshi-kun, you should have a piece too!"

She forked a piece and held it to Hiroshi's lips, her eyes sparkling.

Hiroshi opened his mouth to take it, the sweet taste melting on his tongue, and the weariness in his heart also dissipated a lot. He sat on the sofa, watching Misae eat the cake in small bites, his fingers unconsciously brushing over the sketches on the coffee table, when he suddenly noticed the two small characters "Hiroshi" embroidered on the Kumamon scarf on the bottom sheet of paper. The characters were crooked, but it was clear that a lot of effort had been put into them.

"Is this the final draft to be submitted to the county government?" Hiroshi picked up the sketch and pointed to the words on the scarf.

Misae's cheeks flushed slightly as she reached out to snatch the drawing paper back: "No! It's just a random doodle... I thought Kumamon was something we came up with together, so adding a name would be nice. If the county government doesn't like it, I can just change it."

Hiroshi handed the drawing back to her, his tone earnest: "No need to change it, it looks great. Governor Muto will definitely like it if he sees it—this is a design with warmth, much better than those cold commercial illustrations."

Misae took the drawing paper, murmured an "Mmm," and sat back down at the coffee table, but didn't pick up a pen again.

She stole a glance at Hiroshi and found him leaning back on the sofa, his fingertips gently pressing his brow, his eyes filled with undisguised fatigue, quite different from his usual calm and composed demeanor.

"Hiroshi-kun, is something on your mind?" Misae put down her pencil, sat down next to him, and gently placed her small hand on his knee. "You said on the pager earlier that you were talking to Mr. Suzuki about work. Is the matter with Kanto TV difficult?"

Hiroshi opened his eyes, looked at Misae's worried eyes, and sighed softly in his heart.

He didn't want her to worry about these workplace matters, but although Misae was carefree, she was also very perceptive and could always sense changes in his emotions.

“Yes, it’s a bit of a problem.” Hiroshi held her hand, feeling the warmth of her palm with his fingertips. “Kanto TV is not doing well right now. The older employees are resistant to reforms, and most of the young people have left. We can’t even get advertising. Director Takada and Managing Director Asumi asked me to take on the role of content director for Kanto TV. I have to revitalize it within three months, otherwise not only will they be punished, but the station’s status will also be affected.”

He briefly explained the predicament of the Kwantung government, without mentioning the factional struggles and conflicts of interest, for fear of worrying her.

But Misae frowned after hearing this, and tightly gripped his hand with her little hand: "Then...then won't it be very hard? You already have to manage the production department, and now you have to add work for Kanto TV. Won't you have no time to rest?"

Hiroshi felt a warmth in his heart and shook his head with a smile: "Fortunately, Hashimoto and the others in the production department are all capable of handling things on their own, so I don't have to worry too much. And Mr. Suzuki will also help me. He has been in Kanto TV for more than 20 years and is familiar with the situation there."

“But…” Misae bit her lip, then suddenly looked up at him with a determined gaze. “I believe Hiroshi-kun can definitely do it! When you were making ‘Yamishibai’, everyone said no one watched ‘urban ghost stories,’ but you made it a hit; when you were making ‘Seven Samurai,’ some people said samurai films were outdated, but the box office was so good. Kanto TV may be difficult, but you can definitely find a way!”

She paused, then pulled a small Kumamon keychain from her pocket—a sample she had just finished making yesterday, sewn from fabric, with a small sun embroidered on its belly.

She slipped the keychain into Hiroshi's hand: "Here you go! Consider it a lucky charm. Take it with you when you go to Kanto-dai, and it will surely bring you good luck!"

Hiroshi held the soft keychain, his heart feeling as if it were filled with something.

Seeing Misae's earnest expression, he couldn't help but lean down and gently kiss her forehead: "Thank you, Misae. With your words, I'm confident I can do even the most difficult things well."

Misae's cheeks flushed instantly. She quickly lowered her head, twisting the hem of her clothes with her fingers, and whispered, "Then... are you going to Kanto-dai tomorrow? Do you want me to make you a bento in the morning? I recently learned how to make plum rice balls from my mom, and they're really delicious!"

“Okay.” Hiroshi nodded with a smile. “But I need to go to the station to meet with Director Takada and the others tomorrow, so I might have to leave early. You don’t need to get up too early; I can just buy breakfast at the convenience store downstairs.”

"No way!" Misae immediately looked up, her eyes serious. "I'm going to make you a bento! I'll set my alarm for six, so it won't be too late for you to leave!"

Hiroshi knew her temperament; once she made a decision, she wouldn't change it, so he had no choice but to nod in agreement.

The two chatted for a while about the manga club—Misae said that Kobayashi-san's design drafts for Kumamon merchandise were almost finished and would be sent to the Kumamoto Prefectural Government next week. She wanted to invite Hiroshi to go with her, and Hiroshi smiled and agreed, saying he would go with her whenever he was free.

It wasn't until almost 11 o'clock that Misae yawned and went back to her room to sleep. Before leaving, she reminded him, "Hiroshi-kun, you should go to sleep early too. Don't think about work anymore. You have to get up early tomorrow!"

Hiroshi watched her figure disappear through the bedroom door before picking up the Kanto TV operations report from the coffee table and leaning back on the sofa to read it.

The warm yellow light shone on the paper, and the dense data and questions didn't seem so daunting anymore.

He touched the Kumamon keychain in his pocket; its soft texture made him feel incredibly at ease. With Misae's support, the team's help, and Mr. Suzuki's assistance, he could overcome any obstacle, no matter how difficult.

At 6:30 the next morning, Hiroshi was awakened by noises coming from the kitchen.

He walked out of the bedroom and saw Misae standing in front of the stove, wearing his apron and holding a spatula, carefully frying eggs.

There were two bento boxes on the stove. One contained plum rice balls, and the other contained sliced ​​tamagoyaki and cherry tomatoes. Next to it was a bottle of his favorite green tea.

"Hiroshi-kun, you're awake!" Misae smiled and waved the spatula when she saw him. "The eggs will be ready soon. Just wait five more minutes, and we can have breakfast!"

Hiroshi walked over and gently hugged her from behind, resting his chin on the top of her head: "Why are you up so early? You have dark circles under your eyes."

"No way!" Misae pouted, but still snuggled closer to him. "I set an alarm, I'm not sleepy at all. Let go of me, the eggs are going to burn!"

Hiroshi smiled and let go of her hand, helping her tighten the straps of her apron.

Watching Misae carefully frying eggs, he suddenly realized that this is probably what "peace of mind" means—waking up to a hot breakfast, having people around you who are willing to care about you, and having the motivation to persevere even with the most difficult work.

At 7:30, Hiroshi, carrying the bento box made by Misae, left home on time.

A Toyota Crown drove through the streets of Tokyo in the early morning. There weren't many pedestrians on the road yet, only a few office workers in suits hurried by, carrying rice balls and coffee from convenience stores. This was the norm for every workday in Tokyo during the bubble economy era.

It was just past eight o'clock when I arrived at the Tokyo TV underground parking lot.

As soon as Hiroshi opened the car door, he saw Hashimoto and Ito standing at the elevator entrance, both carrying briefcases, indicating that they had arrived long ago.

"Minister!" Hashimoto greeted him immediately, clutching a folder in his hand. "This is the information you asked me to compile about the Kanto TV animation team, along with the resumes of the two young animators selected yesterday. Please take a look."

Ito also handed over a document: "Minister, this is the progress report on the renovation of Mr. Mizukami's canteen. I went to see it yesterday afternoon. The old photos on the wall have been hung up, and the counter has been set up according to the appearance in the drama. It will be completed next week."

Hiroshi took the document, glanced through it briefly, and nodded to the two of them: "Thank you for your hard work. Go to the conference room first, and we'll have a short meeting with the other section chiefs later. After we've finished handing over the work, we'll head to Kanto Station."

"Yes, Minister!" the two replied in unison.

Stepping into the 12th-floor office area, it was already bustling with activity.

Yamamoto was on the phone discussing script revisions for "Tales of the Unusual" with the screenwriter, his tone patient and meticulous.
Tanaka then took the list of contestants from "Super Transformation" and discussed the revival competition process with the variety show staff.

Kitagawa Yao was sitting at her desk, organizing the list of personnel accompanying the Kanto TV team. When she saw Hiroshi enter, she immediately stood up: "Minister, you've arrived! Director Takada just called and asked you to go directly to his office after you arrive. Managing Director Asumi is also there."

"Okay." Hiroshi nodded and handed the lunchbox to Kitagawa Yao. "Put it in the refrigerator in my office. I'll eat it when I'm hungry."

"Okay, Minister!" Kitagawa Yao took the bento box, looked at the Kumamon pattern printed on it, and couldn't help but smile. "This was made by Misae-san, right? It looks delicious."

Hiroshi smiled, said nothing, and turned to walk towards the elevator.

Hashimoto and Ito followed behind him, exchanging a glance and seeing expectation in each other's eyes—they had followed Hiroshi for so long and knew that Hiroshi always managed to achieve surprising results whenever he took on a new mission, and this reform of the Kanto Station would certainly be no exception.

The atmosphere in Toshihide Takada's office was more serious than yesterday.

Takada sat behind his desk, holding an advertising report from Kanto TV, his brow furrowed.

Asumi stood by the window, a cigarette between his fingers, the ash already quite long, clearly indicating he had been thinking for a long time.

Upon seeing Hiroshi enter, Takada immediately put down the report, a smile appearing on his face, though the seriousness in his eyes was still undeniable: "Hiroshi, you're here. Sit down, Miyazawa just brewed some matcha, it's still warm."

Hiroshi sat down, took the teacup Miyazawa handed him, and asked directly, "Director, is there any new information from the Kanto TV station?"

Takada sighed and pushed the advertising report in front of him: "Take a look. This is the advertising revenue of the Kanto TV station last month. It's down 45% compared to the same period last year. Even Marui Soy Sauce, a long-time client we've been working with for ten years, has shifted this year's budget to the city TV station. Kazuo Takahashi called me yesterday and said that the city TV station's 'Exploring the Tokyo Area' has started filming tourist attractions in the Kanto region and even hired Shunsuke Kamiki as the host. They're clearly trying to steal our viewers."

Asuka stubbed out her cigarette, walked to the coffee table and sat down, her tone turning somber: "What's more troublesome is that several veteran directors from Kanto TV wrote a joint letter to Director Sakata yesterday, saying they 'don't accept being told what to do by people from Tokyo TV.' If we send people from Tokyo TV, they'll all take leave. So this time, we can only bring people from Kanto TV to Kanto TV, which will reduce the resistance."

Hiroshi picked up the report and quickly glanced at it; the densely packed red numbers on it were particularly glaring.

He raised his head, his eyes calm but firm: "I understand. I talked to Mr. Suzuki yesterday, and he will help me connect with Yuichi Matsui, the head of the production department at Kanto TV. Although Matsui is stubborn, he is also someone who understands programs. As long as we come up with a good plan, he should cooperate."

"That's good." Takada breathed a sigh of relief, leaned forward slightly, and said earnestly, "Hiroshi, the station has placed all its hopes on you for this reform of Kanto TV. Director Sakata told me yesterday that if you can raise Kanto TV's ratings within three months, he will promote you to second-level director and add a billion yen to your production budget."

Hiroshi was taken aback. A second-level director was a position many people strived for their entire lives to reach, and he was only 23. If he were to be promoted exceptionally, his position at TV Tokyo would be even more secure. But...
He didn't show much excitement on his face, but calmly said, "Thank you for your trust, Director and Station Chief. I will do my best, not for any other reason than to ensure that everyone's efforts are not in vain."

Looking at his composed demeanor, Takada was even more pleased—this young man was not only talented but also humble, far superior to those juniors who became arrogant as soon as they achieved something.

He nodded: "Okay! The car is ready downstairs. It's a bus. Asumi has already arranged the people who will accompany us. They are all former employees of Kanto TV who now work for Tokyo TV. They are familiar with the people at Kanto TV, so it will be easy to coordinate."

Asumi stood up and picked up her coat from the back of the chair: "Let's set off now and try to get to Kanto TV before 10 o'clock to have a meeting with Matsui and the others to get a better understanding of the production department's situation."

Hiroshi nodded and followed the two out of the office. In the elevator, Asumi suddenly patted him on the shoulder and whispered, "I was too embarrassed to say this earlier, but you had dinner with Mr. Suzuki yesterday. Why didn't you invite me? I've known Suzuki for over ten years. We could have chatted about Kanto TV."

Hiroshi couldn't help but laugh: "I made an appointment with Mr. Suzuki yesterday at the last minute, so I didn't have time to tell you. Next time, I'll invite you and Mr. Suzuki for a drink."

“That’s more like it.” Asumi’s lips curled into a smile, his previous seriousness dissipating considerably. “By the way, Suzuki called me yesterday and said he has to go to the ‘Asakusa’ ramen shop in Kanto this morning to discuss advertising. He won’t be back at Kanto TV until noon, and he’ll come directly to the conference room to find us then.”

"Asakusa Ramen?" Hiroshi sighed, remembering what Suzuki had said yesterday about how difficult it was to get advertising. "Mr. Suzuki must be working really hard, running around like this at his age."

“That’s right.” Asumi sighed as well. “Suzuki had back surgery last year. The doctor told him to rest more, but he’s worried about Kanto TV and is still running commercials every day. If you can revitalize Kanto TV this time, it will be a relief for Suzuki.”

The elevator doors opened, and the bus was already waiting downstairs.

The car body was marked with the Tokyo TV logo, and several familiar figures could be seen in the windows—all former employees of Kanto TV, now working in the variety and drama departments of Tokyo TV. Hiroshi had previously worked with them on the filming of "Tales of the Unusual," and one of the directors, Sato, had also been in charge of filming the "Old Postman" segment.

"Chief Nohara!" Upon seeing Hiroshi and the others arrive, the people on the bus immediately stood up, their faces beaming with respect, and nodded in greeting.

Hiroshi boarded the bus and greeted them with a smile: "Sato-san, Watanabe-san, it's been a long time. Thank you all for coming with me to Kanto-tai this time. It's been a lot of work."

Sato quickly waved his hand, his tone filled with admiration: "Minister, you're too kind! It's our honor to work with you. I still remember how you guided me in filming the 'Old Postman' segment and taught me how to capture the details!"

Watanabe chimed in, "Yes, Minister! I took my whole family to see your film 'Seven Samurai,' and my father said that this is the real samurai film, even more to his liking than Akira Kurosawa's!"

Hiroshi smiled and chatted with them for a few minutes before finding a seat by the window. Asumi sat next to him, watching the people on the train chatting warmly with Hiroshi, and whispered, "Look, these people are all from the Kanto region. They have an affection for Kanto and admire your talent. If you go with them, Matsui won't be too resistant. If it were people from the Tokyo faction, they might start arguing before even reaching Kanto."

Hiroshi nodded and looked out the window.

The bus slowly drove out of the Tokyo TV parking lot and headed towards the Kanto TV station.

The number of cars on the road gradually increased, and real estate agencies along the street had already opened their doors. The posters for "High-end Apartments in Minato Ward" pasted on the glass doors were particularly eye-catching. The fervor of the bubble economy was still strong on the streets of Tokyo in the early morning.

“By the way, Minister.” Sato, who was sitting in front, suddenly turned around, holding a notebook in his hand. “I spoke with a former colleague from Kanto TV yesterday. He said that Director Matsui has been having a conflict with a young director in the production department recently because a girl named Honda wanted to make a documentary called ‘Exploring Old Streets.’ Matsui felt that no one would want to watch it, so he rejected the proposal. Honda is still upset about it.”

Hiroshi's heart skipped a beat; Honda was the young director with ideas that Suzuki had mentioned yesterday.

He took out a pen and wrote "Honda - Old Street Visit Proposal" in his notebook. He looked up at Sato and said, "Thank you, Sato-san. When we get to Kanto TV later, please say hello to Honda for me and tell her that I want to talk to her about the proposal. Regardless of whether Matsui agrees or not, I want to hear her thoughts."

“Yes, Minister!” Sato nodded immediately, his face showing excitement—he had long thought Honda’s proposal was good, but Matsui was too stubborn. Now that Hiroshi was supporting him, they might actually be able to make this documentary.

The atmosphere on the bus gradually became lively, and everyone started talking about their past experiences at the Guandong TV station: some said that when they went to the countryside to interview people while filming "Guandong Folk Customs," the old ladies would cook sweet potatoes for them; some said that at the Guandong TV station's annual meeting, everyone would sing Guandong folk songs together, making it as lively as the Lunar New Year. As the conversation got more excited, someone even hummed the theme song of "Guandong Folk Customs," the familiar melody spreading throughout the bus with a touch of nostalgia.

Asumi watched this scene and sighed softly. She said to Hiroshi, "Look, these people still care about Kanto TV. Kanto TV used to be so lively. The production staff would often work overtime together until late at night, and then go to the izakaya downstairs to drink, talk about the programs, and talk about the future. Now, people's hearts have scattered, and there's not even anyone left to work overtime with."

Hiroshi was silent for a moment, then said softly, "Things will get better. As long as we make good shows and give people hope, people's hearts will naturally come together again. Just like the customers in 'Midnight Diner,' no matter how far they go, they will always return to the diner because there are things they want to eat and people they care about there."

Asumi looked at his determined eyes and nodded.

He suddenly realized that it was the right decision for Director Sakata to entrust this task to Hiroshi—this young man could always find that bit of "warmth" that allowed people to persevere in seemingly hopeless situations.

The bus traveled for more than an hour before finally arriving at Kanto TV Station.

The Kanto TV office building is much older than the Tokyo TV building. Some of the exterior tiles have fallen off, and the sign at the entrance is still the same style as it was ten years ago, making it look rather old.

Two employees in suits stood at the door. Seeing the bus arrive, they immediately came forward with slightly restrained smiles: "Are you from TV Tokyo? Our director asked us to wait for you here. The meeting room is ready."

As Hiroshi stepped off the bus, he looked up at the office building of Kanto TV and felt a pang of emotion. This building, which once held the dreams of countless people and produced classic programs like "Kanto Scenery," had now been reduced to barely surviving by rebroadcasting.

He took a deep breath and gripped the Kumamon keychain in his pocket—Misae's words seemed to echo in his ears again, "Hiroshi-kun can definitely do it." Yes, he could definitely do it and bring this old building back to life.

“Let’s go.” Hiroshi turned to the people behind him and said in a calm but powerful tone, “Let’s go in and have a good talk with Director Matsui.”

The group followed him into the office building of the Kwantung TV station.

The corridor was quiet, with only the occasional sound of a printer. The posters on the wall were from several years ago, covered with a thin layer of dust.

Seeing all this, Hiroshi's resolve hardened—no matter how difficult it was, he was determined to save Kanto TV, not only for the station's expectations, but also for the viewers who were still waiting for good programs, and for those who had once fought here.

(End of this chapter)