I, Hiroshi Nohara, the star of Japanese cinema

Chapter 254 Ryuichi Koike's Approval! Seito Suzuki's Reflections! An Invitation to the Roundtable!
In mid-November, the floor-to-ceiling windows of the rooftop office in the Tokyo Metropolitan Government Building offer panoramic views of the city.

Sunlight streamed through the glass, falling on the mahogany desk and casting a warm glow on a set of exquisite ceramic teaware.

Ryuichi Koike personally carried the silver teapot and slowly poured the warm tea into the teacup, his movements slow and steady, displaying the composure of an old-school politician.

Yoshihiro Shimazu sat on the leather sofa opposite him, his gaze fixed on the tea leaves floating in the teacup—it was sencha, a new tea produced this year in tea fields under the jurisdiction of Tokyo, with tender leaves and a clear, bright liquor.

He picked up the teacup, first bringing it close to his nose to sniff lightly, then taking a small sip. His brows relaxed slightly, and his tone carried the meticulousness of a professional tea connoisseur: "Your Excellency Xiaochi, the aroma of this tea is very clean, with a faint chestnut fragrance on the palate and a savory aftertaste. It must be tender buds picked before Qingming Festival, right? Most of the new teas available on the market now have a bitter taste, but your tea is a rare find that is refreshing."

Ryuichi Koike put down the silver teapot, smiled and nodded: "Shimazu-kun certainly knows tea. This is a special supply from the Chichibu tea field in Saitama Prefecture. The high altitude and large temperature difference between day and night there allow the tea leaves to accumulate a richer flavor. I specially asked someone to reserve two catties. I invited you here today for two reasons: first, I wanted to share this fine tea with you, and second, there is an important matter I need to finalize with you."

He paused, tapped his fingers lightly on the table, and his tone became serious: "The election committee has confirmed that the Tokyo mayoral election will be held on December 1st, lasting three days. The list of candidates will be published starting next Monday. You need to prepare in advance and make sure there are no oversights."

Yoshihiro Shimazu paused slightly in his teacup, a hint of surprise flashing in his eyes before he quickly regained his composure.

He put down his teacup, leaned forward slightly, and bowed deeply to Ryuichi Koike: "Thank you for informing us, Mr. Koike! With a clear date, our team can more accurately plan the publicity schedule, instead of feeling our way forward like before."

"You're welcome. This is the election committee's procedure."

Ryuichi Koike waved his hand, picked up his teacup and took a sip. "But I have to ask you, how are the preparations going? Last week, Tadashi Hattori mentioned to me that your approval rating has surpassed that of Mikami Tanaka. What are the specific figures? Don't try to fool me, I want concrete numbers."

Yoshihiro Shimazu pulled a neatly folded opinion poll report from his briefcase and handed it to Ryuichi Koike: "Sir, this is the latest data that just came out yesterday. The overall approval rating is 53%, while Tanaka Mikami's is 47%, giving us a 6-point lead. Looking at the breakdown by group, the approval rating among young people is 62%, and among traditional craftspeople it's 58%, these two groups are our core support. The middle-aged and elderly group had been lagging behind, but after recently adding promotional material for retirement benefits, the approval rating has risen to 55%, which is a good sign."

Ryuichi Koike opened the report, his finger sliding across the data table, his gaze lingering on the "swing voters" column.

He frowned slightly and began, “There are still 12% of undecided voters. Most of these people are small business owners and office workers in the suburbs. What they care about most is whether the policies can be implemented. Do you have a specific timetable for the ‘community cultural centers’ and ‘return-to-hometown entrepreneurship subsidies’ that you promised before? These people don’t buy into ‘pie-in-the-sky’ promises.”

"A detailed plan is already being developed."

Yoshihiro Shimazu immediately replied with certainty, "For small businesses, we plan to launch 'small, low-interest loans' in the first month after being elected, in conjunction with the Tokyo Metropolitan Government's credit union, to help them alleviate financial pressure; for suburban commuters, we will launch 'rapid commuter buses from the suburbs to the city center,' with four trips each morning and evening, and fares 30% cheaper than the subway. These plans have already been drafted by the team and are just waiting to be submitted to the Tokyo Metropolitan Government for approval after the election."

Ryuichi Koike looked up at him, his eyes scrutinizing: "Mitsukami Tanaka has recently been attacking you for 'relying on television for publicity and lacking governing experience.' How do you plan to deal with that? He has been in the Tokyo City Council for ten years and, with the support of real estate developers, has won over many councilors. If he seizes on your 'lack of experience' as leverage, you could easily be attacked in return."

"We were prepared for this."

Yoshihiro Shimazu took out another document from his briefcase. “We have compiled case studies from my work over the past twenty years—when I was a councilor in Gunma Prefecture, I promoted the ‘Rice Paddy Water-Saving Irrigation Project,’ which helped farmers save 30% of their water usage; when I was the branch office chief in Chiba Prefecture, I upgraded the cold chain system in the fishing port, reducing the fishermen’s catch loss rate from 20% to 5%. These are all based on concrete data and testimonies from the public. We will make them into brochures and distribute them to residents in every community to refute his attacks with facts.”

Ryuichi Koike took the document and flipped through a few pages. Seeing the newspaper reports from that year and thank-you letters signed by farmers and fishermen, a satisfied look appeared on his face: "Well done, more comprehensive than I expected. But you must remember, the public looks not only at past achievements, but also at future promises. How exactly will you implement the 'controlling the real estate bubble' you mentioned earlier? Don't just say 'restricting speculation,' you need to provide concrete solutions."

"We have consulted economic experts on this matter."

Yoshihiro Shimazu sat up straight, his tone serious. "The first step is to raise the down payment ratio for second homes from the current 30% to 50% to curb speculative buying. The second step is to increase the supply of affordable housing, with plans to build 20,000 units in the suburbs of Tokyo over the next three years, prioritizing allocation to young people who have worked in Tokyo for five years. The third step is to strictly investigate real estate developers who hoard properties, and if discovered, revoke their development licenses in Tokyo. These measures have already been discussed with the Tokyo Metropolitan Government's Housing and Construction Department, and they have indicated they will fully cooperate."

After listening, Koike Ryuichi nodded slightly, tapping his fingers lightly on the table: "The idea is correct, but we need to be careful. Real estate developers are getting close to Tanaka Mikami now. If you push them too hard, they might cause some trouble. It's best to take action against a few small developers who have violated regulations first, to make an example of them, and not to go straight to the big groups to avoid escalating the conflict."

"I see."

Yoshihiro Shimazu nodded in agreement. "Our team has also considered this point. We plan to start with small developers who are illegally renovating old houses without proper qualifications. This is in accordance with regulations and will not cause too much of a stir. Once we have a firm foothold, we will gradually regulate the behavior of large groups."

Upon hearing this, Ryuichi Koike put down his documents, picked up his teacup, took a sip, and his eyes deepened: "Shimazu-kun, you must understand that this election is not just a contest between you and Tanaka Mikami, but also a game between us reformers and the real estate interest groups. Tokyo is the economic center of Japan, but now it is tied up by real estate—young people can't afford to buy houses, small and medium-sized enterprises can't afford to rent offices, and even ordinary families' savings are tied up in housing prices. If this continues, Tokyo's economy will collapse before the bubble bursts."

He paused, his tone becoming somewhat heavy:

“What we need to do is pull Tokyo out of its ‘real estate dependence.’ After you are elected, you should focus on promoting ‘the revival of traditional crafts’ and ‘cultural and tourism cooperation,’ just like the ‘A Bite of China’ documentary filmed by Hiroshi Nohara, to develop the distinctive industries around Tokyo. This will not only create new jobs but also reduce the economy’s dependence on real estate, and that is the future of Tokyo.”

Yoshihiro Shimazu clenched his fist, his tone firm: "Don't worry, Mr. Koike! I will definitely do it in this direction! The good publicity results this time are also thanks to Mr. Nohara's 'information cocoon' strategy - he helped us customize content for different groups, without shouting any empty slogans, but made the public truly feel the sincerity of our policies. Without him, our approval rating would probably still be hovering around 40%."

"Hiroshi Nohara..."

Ryuichi Koike repeated the name, a hint of admiration flashing in his eyes. "This young man is indeed remarkable. Last time I talked to him about 'information cocoons,' he had even come up with a publicity strategy for 'controlling the real estate bubble,' taking into account both the anxieties of young people and the concerns of middle-aged and elderly people. He is more thorough than many seasoned publicity consultants."

He suddenly lowered his voice, his tone tinged with mystery: "And you might not know this, but someone in the cabinet has already taken notice of him. The Prime Minister's secretary called me last week, asking if 'information cocoons' could be used in the nationwide 'Rural Revitalization Plan' publicity, and also asked me to send over a copy of the materials compiled by Hiroshi Nohara. This young man has unlimited potential."

Yoshihiro Shimazu's eyes sharpened, and he quickly said, "I've already had someone contact Nohara-kun and meticulously document the 'information cocoon' publicity process, channel selection, and content design, compiling them into a report. Once the election is over, it can be submitted to the cabinet for reference. Nohara-kun has been very cooperative and even proactively suggested several ideas for promoting 'rural revitalization,' such as using the stories of rural artisans featured in 'A Bite of China' as a vehicle to attract young people back to their hometowns."

Koike Takashi nodded, tapping his fingers lightly on the table, his tone suddenly becoming heavy: "However, we can't be too optimistic. You know, although the Liberal Democratic Party still holds a majority of seats in the Diet, they've started to get dissatisfied because we refused to cooperate with the US's follow-up policies on the Plaza Accord. Last week, the counselor from the US Embassy in Japan spoke with me, saying, both openly and covertly, that we should 'support political forces that are more in line with US interests.' To put it bluntly, they want to support a puppet like Tanaka Mikami."

Yoshihiro Shimazu's face instantly darkened, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fist, and he muttered under his breath, "Damn it! What right do those American bastards have to interfere in our internal affairs? Japan is a sovereign nation, not their colony! They want us to continue inflating the real estate bubble so they can reap the rewards, but we won't!"

Do you think they can't?

Ryuichi Koike sighed, his tone tinged with helplessness. "From the day we were defeated, they've tied our hands and feet. Their military presence, economic aid, propaganda... they're watching everything. The real estate group behind Tanaka Mikami has half its funds coming from American investment companies. Why do you think he dares to acquire land so aggressively? It's because he has American backing."

He paused, his gaze drifting to the Tokyo Tower outside the window, a hint of weariness in his voice: "The reforms led by General MacArthur back then, seemingly giving us a democratic system, actually put our economic lifeline in their hands. When we wanted to develop manufacturing, they forced us to sign 'voluntary export restrictions'; when we wanted to support domestic companies, they launched 'anti-dumping investigations.' Now that we want to control the real estate bubble, they're causing trouble again. That's what they call 'allies.'"

Yoshihiro Shimazu was silent for a moment, then suddenly raised his head, his eyes shining with unyielding determination: "Even so, we cannot compromise! Lord Koike, my campaign this time is not just about defeating Tanaka Mikami, but also about fighting for a way to survive for the people of Tokyo. If Tanaka Mikami is elected, he will definitely continue to indulge real estate developers. When the bubble bursts, countless families will go bankrupt, and Tokyo will truly be finished. I will stop him even if it costs me my life!"

Looking at his determined expression, Takashi Koike smiled with relief: "Good! I'm relieved to hear that. But remember, determination alone isn't enough; you also need strategy. Although the Americans support Tanaka Mikami, they're also afraid of inciting public discontent. As long as our propaganda firmly addresses the pain points of people's livelihoods and gets the public to support us spontaneously, even if the Americans want to interfere, they won't find an excuse."

He picked up his teacup and raised it to Yoshihiro Shimazu: "Here, have another sip of tea. This tea is light, but it can be steeped for a long time, just like the path of us reformers. It looks difficult, but as long as we persevere, we will eventually taste the sweetness."

Yoshihiro Shimazu picked up his teacup, clinked it against Ryuichi Koike's, and tilted his head back to drink the tea in one gulp.

The fragrant aroma of the tea spread in his mouth, but it couldn't suppress the fighting spirit in his heart—he knew that the next two weeks would be a crucial battle that would determine the future of Tokyo, and he couldn't afford to lose.

The two chatted for another half hour, discussing everything from publicity details to winning over legislators, from livelihood policies to economic planning, with each aspect discussed in great detail.

As Yoshihiro Shimazu stood up to leave, Ryuichi Koike suddenly called him back, his voice tinged with emotion: "Shimazu-kun, we're all getting old. This election might be the last time we give our all for reform. The future of Japan depends on the young people."

Yoshihiro Shimazu paused for a moment, then understood what Ryuichi Koike meant. He turned to look at Koike, his tone serious: "You mean Hiroshi Nohara? Indeed, although he is young, his vision and ability far surpass those of his peers. The success of this 'information cocoon' project, as well as his understanding of policy communication, have impressed me greatly. If there is an opportunity in the future, I would like to invite him to join our team to promote reforms in Tokyo."

Ryuichi Koike smiled and nodded: "That's what I think too. This young man is not only talented, but also empathetic—he made 'A Bite of China' not to earn ratings, but to record crafts that are about to disappear; he designed 'information cocoons' not to help you win elections, but to help the public truly understand policies. People like this are much more reliable than those politicians who only know how to scheme."

He paused, a hint of expectation in his eyes: "But don't be too hasty in trying to win him over. Hiroshi Nohara is more focused on his writing right now. Forcing him into politics will only bury his talent. What we can do is create a better environment for him, so that his works can continue to convey the right values ​​and influence more people. When the time is right in the future, he will naturally understand that his talent can do more for this country."

Yoshihiro Shimazu nodded in agreement: "You're right, I was too hasty. I will maintain a good working relationship with Nohara-kun and not put any extra pressure on him. After this election, I also want to commission him to make a documentary about 'Tokyo's economic transformation,' using real stories to show the public that Tokyo, free from its dependence on real estate, can have a better future."

“That’s a great idea.” Ryuichi Koike nodded in satisfaction. “The Metropolitan Government can provide funding so he won’t have any worries. By the way, when you get back, tell Nohara-kun that I’d like to invite him to the Metropolitan Government for tea sometime and discuss the documentary ideas with him.”

Yoshihiro Shimazu agreed, bowed to Ryuichi Koike again, and then turned and left the office.

As he reached the elevator, he took out his phone and dialed Hiroshi Nohara's number. The call was answered after two rings, and Hiroshi Nohara's calm voice came through the receiver: "Shimazu-senpai, what's the matter?"

"Hiroshi-kun, the election date has been set, starting on December 1st." There was a hint of barely perceptible excitement in Shimazu Yoshihiro's voice. "Also, Lord Koike admires you very much and said he would like to invite you for tea to talk about the documentary. We really owe a lot to you this time. Without the 'information cocoon,' we wouldn't be where we are today."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, followed by Hiroshi Nohara's calm voice: "Congratulations to Shimazu-senpai on getting a definite date. I'm available anytime regarding the documentary. But you don't need to thank me; I was just doing what I was supposed to do—good policies need good publicity, and it's meaningful in itself to help the public understand and support policies that benefit them."

As Yoshihiro Shimazu held his phone, a warm feeling suddenly welled up inside him.

Looking at his reflection in the elevator door, he recalled Ryuichi Koike's words that "the future depends on young people," and suddenly felt that no matter how many difficulties this election encountered, no matter how troublesome the interference from the United States was, as long as there were young people like Hiroshi Nohara, there was still hope for the future of Japan.

The elevator doors slowly opened, and Yoshihiro Shimazu took a deep breath and stepped inside.

The next two weeks will be a tough battle, but he is prepared—for the people of Tokyo, for a future free from dependence on real estate, and to live up to the trustworthy partners around him.

……

In an old bakery in Chichibu City, Saitama Prefecture, the aroma of roasting ovens mingled with the scent of wheat filling the air.

Hiroshi Nohara hung up the phone from Yoshihiro Shimazu, the coolness of the phone still lingering on his fingertips, a complex expression flashing across his face.

He looked at Kosuke Sato kneading dough in the camera lens—the old man's calloused hands repeatedly folded the dough, his movements so skillful it seemed he had lived with flour for most of his life, but he couldn't help but feel a little uneasy.

Ryuichi Koike's expectations, Yoshihiro Shimazu's reliance on him, and Tadashi Hattori's occasional hints of "mentoring juniors"—these high-ranking Japanese officials all seem to regard themselves as young people worthy of trust.

But he knew in his heart that he was still the soul of the Chinese people on Earth. Even though he had been in this world for some time, he had never thought about really planning anything for the future of Japan.

"Hiroshi-san, what's wrong?" The young assistant in charge of lighting asked in a low voice when he saw him standing there in a daze.

Hiroshi Nohara snapped out of his reverie, shook his head, and said in a calm tone, "It's nothing, let's continue filming. Pay attention to capturing the lines on Sato-san's hands, and the close-ups of the bread puffing up in the oven; these details are very important."

The assistant quickly responded, and the faint sounds of the machines running resumed on set.

Hiroshi Nohara sat down next to the monitor, looked at the screen, and chatted with the staff next to him about the progress of "A Bite of China": "The fourth episode is about Saitama carp streamer dorayaki, focusing on how Hyakusawa Ryusō makes dorayaki using his family's traditional yeast; the fifth episode is about Gunma Prefecture's tamagoyaki, and in addition to the process of choosing eggs and cream, we also added the folk scenes of the local 'festival'; the sixth episode is about cream of mushroom soup, and we filmed it with a professional chef for three days, and we filmed everything very thoroughly."

He paused, his gaze falling on the bread being placed on the baking tray:

"As for the seventh episode we're currently filming, it focuses on the 'Christmas limited edition bread' from this old bakery—Mr. Sato only makes this kind of bread with chestnut puree every December to commemorate his deceased wife. We want to capture this sentiment in the film so that viewers can taste the warmth of human kindness in the sweetness of the bread."

The staff around listened attentively, and one of them couldn't help but exclaim, "Hiroshi-san, the subjects you choose are all so heartwarming, much more interesting than those documentaries that only show how to cook food."

Hiroshi Nohara smiled but didn't say anything more.

He knew perfectly well that these “warm” designs were simply inspired by the ideas in a documentary about Earth in 2025—more than just showcasing skills, audiences cared about the people and stories behind the food.

The filming of the old bakery was successfully completed in the evening.

Just as Hiroshi Nohara finished packing up his equipment, Shigeru Saito, who was in charge of post-production, rushed over: "Hiroshi-san, the footage for episodes four through six has been compiled. The technical department colleagues said that you still need to personally handle the editing, as they are afraid that they won't be able to control the pacing."

"Let's go to the editing room."

Hiroshi Nohara nodded and followed Shigeru Saito toward the Kanto TV's temporary editing room.

On the way, he encountered many young directors from Kanto TV, as well as a few newcomers from Tokyo TV who came to learn. They all greeted him warmly, their eyes full of anticipation.

In the editing room, several editing machines were placed side by side, and the screens were still displaying footage shot during the day.

Hiroshi Nohara sat down, put on his headphones, and moved his fingers quickly across the control panel, roughly piecing together the footage from episode seven.

The young people around him gathered around, watching his movements with bated breath, and every now and then someone would take out a notebook to take notes.

"The most important thing in editing documentaries is not 'editing beautifully,' but 'editing with understanding.'"

While adjusting the order of the shots, Hiroshi Nohara explained, “For example, in this shot of Mr. Sato kneading dough, we can’t just show him kneading the dough. We also need to add a close-up of him looking up at his wife’s photo on the wall, along with the sound of him softly saying ‘This year’s chestnut harvest is good.’ This way, the emotions will be coherent.”

"Hiroshi-san, if there's too much material, how do you decide which ones to keep?" asked Honda Sakurako, a young director from Kanto TV, her notebook already more than half full.

Hiroshi Nohara stopped operating the camera and pointed to the screen, explaining: "Remember three principles: First, include 'information-rich' scenes—such as the volume changes of bread during fermentation, which lets the audience know the production process; second, include 'emotionally resonant' details—like the old towel that Sato-san used to wipe his sweat, which conveys his perseverance better than any narration; third, include 'rhythmic' segments—the 'whoosh' sound of the oven door opening, the steam when the bread comes out of the oven, these make the film feel more alive."

He paused, then pulled up footage of buckwheat noodles from episode five: "Look at this scene. The shot of cooking buckwheat noodles is only ten seconds long, but it includes a three-second close-up of the water boiling, followed by a five-second slow-motion shot of the noodles being scooped out, along with the 'bubbling' sound of the noodles cooking. This allows the audience to feel the chewiness of the noodles. This is a 'sensory editing technique,' using visuals and sound to engage the audience's sense of taste and touch, which is more effective than simple narration."

The young people listened and nodded repeatedly, some even trying it out themselves. Hiroshi Nohara patiently provided guidance, explaining everything in detail, from transitions to background music selection.

Even as night deepened, the editing room was still filled with the sounds of discussion, and everyone wore an expression of sudden enlightenment.

"You're all studying very hard." A familiar voice came from the doorway, and Suzuki Seito walked in, leaning on his cane, with a gentle smile on his face.

He had just come from TV Tokyo and wanted to say hello to Hiroshi Nohara, but he saw a room full of young people gathered around the editing machine, their eyes full of focus.

Hiroshi Nohara stood up: "Suzuki-senpai, what brings you here?"

"I have some good news for you." Suzuki Kiyoto handed over a ratings report. "The ratings for the sixth episode of Chiba Seafood Donburi have exceeded 42%, which is higher than the ratings for 'Super Transformation' last week. Who would have thought that a documentary could beat a variety show? This was something we never dared to imagine before."

Hiroshi Nohara took the report, glanced at the data, and wasn't surprised.

He knew that this was because he used the documentary style of Earth in 2025—it had both suspense, such as when Nomizu Masataka encountered storms at sea, making the audience worry about whether he could catch fish, and educational value, explaining the best ways to eat different types of fish, and also interspersed the life stories of fishermen, making it more in-depth than traditional variety shows.

"Hiroshi-san, will you stay with Kanto TV in the future?" a young director suddenly asked, his tone filled with anticipation. Everyone around looked at Hiroshi Nohara, their eyes full of longing—they all hoped to continue learning from him.

Upon hearing this, Suzuki Kiyoto's smile faded slightly, and his tone became complicated: "Hiroshi-kun doesn't belong to the Kanto Dai. He's an eagle, and he needs to fly higher. What we in the Kanto Dai can do is to learn more real skills while he's still willing to stay."

The moment those words were spoken, the editing room fell silent.

The young people were stunned for a few seconds, then realized that Hiroshi Nohara's talent had long exceeded the scope of Kanto TV. Whether it was the attention from Tokyo TV or the focus of higher-ups, it was destined that he would not stay on a local TV station forever.

"Mr. Suzuki is exaggerating," Hiroshi Nohara said with a smile, trying to smooth things over. "I'm just doing what I love, and I hope to make good films no matter where I am. With so many promising young people on Kanto TV, we're sure to make documentaries even better than 'A Bite of China' in the future."

He paused, then looked at the young people surrounding him: "It's getting late, everyone should go back and rest. I believe you will all be able to handle things on your own when the Kanto TV station starts preparing for the new documentary."

The young people responded enthusiastically, and while packing up their things, they were still quietly discussing the editing techniques they had just learned, their eyes filled with even greater admiration than before.

Until the last person left, only Hiroshi Nohara and Kiyoto Suzuki remained in the editing room.

“You’re quite open-minded.” Suzuki Kiyoto sat down in the chair next to Nohara Hiroshi, his tone tinged with emotion. “If it were anyone else, being admired by so many young people, they would have gotten arrogant long ago.”

"Admiration won't put food on the table; making good films is what matters." Hiroshi Nohara turned off the editing machine. "By the way, Suzuki-senpai, you came all this way for more than just to deliver the ratings report, didn't you?"

Kiyoto Suzuki smiled and pulled an invitation from his pocket: "It's from Tokyo Broadcasting System (NHK). They want to invite you to the 'Documentary Creation Symposium' at the beginning of next month. They also specifically told me that this symposium is of a very high level. In addition to people from the TV station, there will be officials from the Ministry of Education, Culture, Sports, Science and Technology, and there may even be people from the Cabinet who will come to listen in."

Hiroshi Nohara took the invitation, looked at the signature on it, and was slightly taken aback: "Why would NHK suddenly contact me?"

"It's all because of the popularity of 'A Bite of China'," Suzuki Seito explained. "The whole of Japan is talking about this documentary. NHK, as a public broadcaster, wants to take this opportunity to discuss the future direction of documentaries. They think your idea of ​​'humanities + craftsmanship' is very valuable and want you to talk more about it at the meeting."

Hiroshi Nohara pondered for a moment, then nodded in agreement: "Okay, I'll go. But I might need to prepare what I'll be saying in advance."

“Don’t be too nervous, just talk like you usually do when you teach young people.” Suzuki Kiyoto patted him on the shoulder. “By the way, NHK also mentioned that they want to collaborate with you on a documentary series about the preservation of traditional Japanese crafts. They have a generous budget. If you’re interested, you can talk to them about it.”

Hiroshi Nohara had a sudden thought—this was an opportunity to record more crafts. Even if it wasn't for the future of Japan, preserving these soon-to-disappear skills would be a meaningful thing.

He nodded and said, "After the meeting, I will talk to them about my specific ideas."

As night deepened, the two walked out of the editing room, leaving only a few scattered lights in the Kanto TV office building.

Looking at the young man beside him, who wasn't much shorter than himself, Suzuki Kiyoto suddenly spoke up: "Hiroshi-kun, have you ever thought about what you want to do in the future? Will you keep making documentaries, or... aim for something higher?"

Hiroshi Nohara paused, looking up at the night sky—the moon was obscured by clouds, only a faint light shining through.

He recalled Ryuichi Koike's expectations, Yoshihiro Shimazu's reliance on him, and the admiring gazes of those young people, and said softly, "I haven't thought that far ahead yet. I'll just focus on doing what's in front of me well. But I know that whatever I do, I have to be worthy of every shot I take and worthy of the people who trust me."

Suzuki Seito looked at his serious profile, nodded gently, and didn't ask any further questions.

He knew in his heart that this young man's future would not be confined to the small editing room. Just as an eagle will eventually fly to a wider sky, Hiroshi Nohara was destined to leave his own mark on this world.

The two walked side by side down the quiet corridor, their footsteps echoing in the empty space, as if silently foreshadowing the upcoming symposium and Hiroshi Nohara's unknown yet destined extraordinary future.

……

In the Tokyo TV station's office area, the buzzing of the printers still echoed, but Kazuo Takahashi felt a throbbing pain in his temples.

He had just hung up the phone with NHK, and the note in his hand contained only one line: "Participation in the symposium is limited to invited organizations; Tokyo TV is not included." This line felt like a stone, making it hard for him to breathe.

"Deputy Director Takahashi!" The office door was suddenly pushed open, and Shunsuke Kamiki walked in, his shiny leather shoes gleaming. His white suit was stained with a faint scent of perfume, which clashed with the smell of ink in the office.

He held an entertainment newspaper in his hand, the front page prominently featuring the headline "Hiroshi Nohara Invited to Attend NHK High-End Documentary Symposium." His tone was full of urgency, "Did you see the news? Hiroshi Nohara is going to attend an NHK symposium! Why didn't our station receive an invitation? Please help me get a spot, I want to go too!"

Kazuo Takahashi rubbed his temples, trying to keep his tone calm: "Kamiki-kun, calm down. I just checked with NHK, and this symposium only invited designated organizations. Our Tokyo TV station is not on the invitation list, so we don't have any extra seats."

"No spots available?" Kamiki Shunsuke's voice rose instantly, the newspaper in his hand crumpled. "How could there be no spots? Hiroshi Nohara is just a director, while I'm our station's star performer! Why does NHK only invite him and not me? This is clearly looking down on Tokyo TV, and even more so, looking down on me!"

He stepped forward, his chest heaving slightly, his face full of arrogance: "Vice Director Takahashi, could you please talk to NHK again and tell them that I, Shunsuke Kamiki, am willing to attend, which will help them increase their exposure? You know, our station's ratings have been entirely dependent on me lately. If I can go to this forum, it will be a boost to our station's image!"

Looking at his self-righteous demeanor, Kazuo Takahashi felt a surge of powerlessness.

He took a deep breath and patiently explained, "Kamiki-kun, the theme of this symposium is 'Documentary Creation and Cultural Heritage,' and the invited guests are directors, screenwriters, and experts in the cultural field. It has nothing to do with celebrity exposure. NHK has its own selection criteria, which I can't easily influence."

"Standards? What standards could be more important than me?" Kamiki Shunsuke sneered, his eyes filled with disdain. "Nohara Hiroshi's 'A Bite of China' is just a bunch of cooking clips, what's so great about it? My starring role in 'Tokyo Love Story' also had decent ratings, why can he go but I can't?"

He became increasingly agitated as he spoke, slamming his hand on the table: "I don't care! You have to get me a spot! If you don't, I won't participate in next week's variety show recording! If the station's ratings drop, don't come looking for me!"

Kazuo Takahashi's face darkened, and his fingers gripped the corner of the table tightly.

He knew that Shunsuke Kamiki was telling the truth—since the establishment of Tokyo Television, it had relied entirely on Shunsuke Kamiki's popularity. Whether it was variety shows or dramas, as long as he appeared on screen, the ratings would rise by several percentage points. If Shunsuke Kamiki really went on strike, the station's situation would only become more difficult.

But he also knew that NHK would never budge. This symposium was spearheaded by the Ministry of Education, and the invitation list had been finalized long ago. Even TV Tokyo only got two spots, let alone their local station, which had been supported by Tanaka Mikami.

"Kamiki-kun, it's not that I don't want to help you, it's just that there's really nothing I can do." Kazuo Takahashi's voice was tinged with exhaustion. "NHK has made it clear that the number of spots cannot be increased or replaced. If you really want to participate, I will definitely give you priority in trying to get a spot for you next time there is a similar event."

"Next time? Who knows when next time will be!" Kamiki Shunsuke suddenly took a step back, his face full of anger. "I think you just don't want to help me! Do you think Nohara Hiroshi is better than me? Let me tell you, he's just lucky! If I had his resources, my work would definitely be better than his!"

He glared at Takahashi Kazuo, then turned and walked towards the door: "If you won't help me, someone else will! I'll go find President Sato; he'll definitely have a way to get a spot! You'll regret it later!"

The office door slammed shut, leaving Kazuo Takahashi sitting alone in his chair, his face extremely grim.

He looked at the crumpled newspaper on the table, with Hiroshi Nohara's photo printed on it. His eyes were calm and composed, a stark contrast to the arrogant demeanor of Shunsuke Kamiki just now.

Kazuo Takahashi stood up, walked to the window, and watched as Shunsuke Kamiki got into a black sedan and drove away.

An indescribable anger welled up inside him—Shunsuke Kamiki was just an idol star who, with the backing of Tokugawa Sato, was becoming increasingly arrogant in the station, not only disregarding the staff but also daring to threaten him, the deputy director.

"This is outrageous!" Kazuo Takahashi muttered under his breath, his fists clenched tightly.

He recalled his original intention when he set up Tokyo TV—to create some in-depth programs and change the cultural atmosphere of Tokyo. But now it has become a propaganda tool for Tanaka Mikami and is only surviving on Kamiki Shunsuke's popularity.

He walked to his desk and opened the station's ratings report—the variety show "Tokyo Star Show," starring Shunsuke Kamiki, had a rating of 18%, making it the station's highest-rated program; while other programs, whether news or documentaries, had ratings below 5%.

If Shinki Shunsuke really quits recording, the station's ratings will probably plummet, and Tanaka Mikami will definitely blame him, making his position as deputy station manager in jeopardy.

"An idol star, really taking himself too seriously." Kazuo Takahashi sneered, his eyes full of disdain. "The NHK roundtable is for discussing documentary creation, not a fan meeting. What can he do there? Besides throwing tantrums and showing his displeasure, what insightful things can he say?"

He recalled his previous experience working with Shunsuke Kamiki—during the filming of a variety show, Kamiki was not only late and left early, but also bossed around the staff and couldn't even remember simple lines, which had to be pieced together in post-production editing.

For someone like that to think he can be compared to Hiroshi Nohara, and even think he's better than Hiroshi Nohara, is simply a huge joke.

Despite his anger, Kazuo Takahashi was powerless to do anything about it.

Tokyo TV's funding mostly came from Tokugawa Sato's real estate company, and Shunsuke Kamiki was Tokugawa Sato's "canary," so no one in the station dared to offend him.

If Sato Tokugawa really intervenes to secure a spot for Kamiki Shunsuke, even if NHK is unwilling, they would probably have to give him some face.

"Never mind, let them be." Kazuo Takahashi sighed and sat back down in his chair.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number in the secret book that Tanaka Masao had sent—regardless of whether Kamiki Shunsuke could get a spot or not, he had to report it in advance to avoid taking responsibility for any problems that might arise later.

After the call connected, Kazuo Takahashi's tone became respectful: "Hello, this is Kazuo Takahashi. There's something I'd like to report to Mayor Tanaka..."

The black sedan stopped in front of the Kirin Group building. Shunsuke Kamiki quickly stepped into the elevator, his fingers swiping rapidly across his phone screen as he looked at online reports about Hiroshi Nohara, his expression growing increasingly grim.

He couldn't accept that Hiroshi Nohara was more valued than him, and he couldn't accept that he wasn't even qualified to participate in the symposium.

The elevator doors opened, and Kamiki Shunsuke headed straight for Sato Tokugawa's office. His secretary tried to stop him, but he shoved her aside: "Is President Sato inside? I need to speak with him urgently!"

In the office, Sato Tokugawa was sitting on the sofa, holding a real estate report. When Kamiki Shunsuke barged in, he looked impatient: "What's the rush? Can't you see I'm busy?"

"President Sato, you have to help me!" Kamiki Shunsuke walked up to Sato Tokugawa, his eyes slightly red, his tone filled with grievance. "NHK is holding a documentary panel discussion and invited Hiroshi Nohara, but not me! Deputy Director Takahashi said he couldn't get a spot. Please help me think of a way, I really have to go!"

Sato Tokugawa put down the report and glanced at him: "It's just a symposium, what's so great about it? You should focus on filming your variety show and stop thinking about these useless things all day."

"This isn't useless!" Kamiki Shunsuke hurriedly said, "Nohara Hiroshi is getting more and more popular. If he steals the spotlight at the symposium, he'll definitely overshadow me in the future! Besides, officials from the Ministry of Education will be attending this symposium. If I can go, I might be able to get to know some high-ranking officials, which would be beneficial to my career development!"

He grabbed Sato Tokugawa's arm, his tone pleading: "President Sato, you love me the most, please help me this once, okay? Just put in a word with NHK, they'll definitely give you face."

Sato Tokugawa frowned, feeling somewhat hesitant.

He does have connections with some high-ranking officials at NHK, and if he were to ask, he might actually be able to secure a spot.

But he also knew that the theme of this symposium was documentary filmmaking, and if Kamiki Shunsuke went, he wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise and might even make a fool of himself.

“What can you do there?” Sato Tokugawa asked. “The symposium is to discuss documentaries. Do you even know what a documentary is? If they ask you questions and you can’t answer them, I’ll be the one who loses face.”

“I don’t need to know anything!” Kamiki Shunsuke said. “I just need to sit there and let everyone know that I was also invited, which is more prestigious than Hiroshi Nohara. And I can tell the reporters that I’m here to learn, so I won’t lose face and I can also gain a reputation for being a studious person.”

Looking at his anxious expression, Sato Tokugawa suddenly found it somewhat amusing.

He shook his head and picked up the phone on the table: "Alright, alright, I'll ask for you. But let me tell you, if NHK doesn't agree, don't cause any more trouble."

Kamiki Shunsuke immediately smiled and nodded repeatedly: "Thank you, President Sato! Don't worry, if you don't agree, I definitely won't make a fuss!"

Sato Tokugawa dialed the NHK chairman's number, his tone tinged with arrogance: "Hello, this is Sato Tokugawa. Could you reserve a spot for me at your documentary panel discussion? I have an artist here who would like to participate, which would also help boost your popularity."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the phone, followed by the chairman's polite yet firm voice: "President Sato, I'm truly sorry. The number of participants for this symposium was determined by the Ministry of Education and cannot be increased arbitrarily. Moreover, those invited are all professionals in their respective fields, and it is indeed inappropriate for celebrities to participate. I hope you understand."

Sato Tokugawa's face darkened: "Why is it inappropriate? My artist is a star performer at Tokyo TV. If he attends, your symposium will definitely get more attention. You should talk to the Ministry of Education again and tell them that it was my request."

"There's really no way around it, President Sato." The chairman's tone remained polite. "The Ministry of Education specifically emphasized that this symposium should focus on professional matters and not include too many entertainment elements. If your artists would like to attend, we will definitely give them priority invitations for future entertainment-related events."

Sato Tokugawa hung up the phone, his face extremely grim.

He looked at the expectant Shunsuke Kamiki and said with a hint of impatience, "Don't wait anymore. NHK doesn't agree. They said the quota is set by the Ministry of Education and can't be increased."

Kamiki Shunsuke's smile froze on his face, his eyes filled with disbelief: "Why would they disagree? Aren't you very familiar with their higher-ups? Why aren't they giving you face?"

"Face?" Sato Tokugawa sneered. "What does my face matter in front of the Ministry of Education? They value expertise, not an idol like you who only knows how to throw tantrums!"

Kamiki Shunsuke's face turned pale. He took a step back, muttering to himself, "Impossible... They must have done it on purpose. They deliberately didn't invite me to save face for Nohara Hiroshi..."

He turned and stormed out of the office, his heart filled with anger and resentment.

Looking out at the Tokyo street scene, he secretly vowed: Hiroshi Nohara, you just wait, one day I will let you know that I am more powerful and more respected than you!

In the office, Sato Tokugawa watched Kamiki Shunsuke's retreating figure and shook his head helplessly.

He picked up the real estate report on the table and suddenly thought that instead of wasting time on these useless celebrities, he should pay more attention to the real estate market—recently, housing prices in Tokyo have been rising faster and faster, and if he could seize this opportunity, he could make much more money than promoting celebrities.

At the same time, Kazuo Takahashi received a call from Tokugawa Sato's secretary, who informed him that NHK had not agreed to increase the number of slots, and he finally breathed a sigh of relief.

He leaned back in his chair, looking at the ratings report on the table, and a strong sense of powerlessness suddenly welled up in his heart—if Tokyo TV continued to rely on entertainers like Shunsuke Kamiki, it would probably be eliminated by the market sooner or later.

He thought of Hiroshi Nohara's career at TV Tokyo and the influence of "A Bite of China," and suddenly felt a pang of envy—if only TV Tokyo had such talent, perhaps they wouldn't be in such a sorry state now.

(End of this chapter)