(Translated from Japanese)
“Why am I even here...”
Hibiki Hada muttered to himself, gazing vaguely at the snow-covered landscape outside the train window.
The majestic mountains of Hakuba spread out before him. The sky was crystal clear, and even the distant snowy scenery stood out in sharp relief. Normally, he was a sales rep for a Tokyo radio station, constantly rushing around the city. So why was he here in a place like this?
The answer was simple.
“Local station sponsorship sales.”
Head office had assigned him to strengthen partnerships with a local radio station in Nagano, which meant a business trip to Hakuba Village.
“Honestly, handling just the Tokyo clients already has me swamped. Why do I have to come all the way to Nagano? Well, I get it’s for ski-season tourism promotion, but still...”
As he walked through the snowy station plaza, Hada let out a deep sigh. The cold pierced all the way into his lungs.
His mission was to pitch radio ads and program tie-ins to local businesses in Nagano. But whether the clients would be interested was another matter. Rural companies tend to be cautious and rarely jump on new advertising methods.
“I wonder what kind of person the company president is.”
While checking the documents sent to his phone, Hada climbed into a taxi waiting outside the station. His destination was the headquarters of a tourism company operating in Hakuba. The president he would be meeting today was waiting there.
The taxi made its way along the snowy roads of Hakuba, and eventually a wooden office building came into view. It belonged to Hakuba Tourism Development, a company that collaborated with local resorts and ski facilities to promote regional revitalization.
As he stepped inside, a warm breeze from a wood-burning stove greeted him. The rustic office exuded a mountain-town charm, and a faint scent of wood lingered in the air.
“Good afternoon. I’m Hada from UBS Radio.”
After giving his name at reception, he was promptly shown to a meeting room. Inside sat Yoshikawa, the president of Hakuba Tourism Development and today’s business contact.
“Thank you for coming all this way. I’m Yoshikawa.”
A man in his mid-fifties with a calm demeanor. He wore a cardigan over a ski jacket—more laid-back than your typical city businessman.
“Thank you for taking the time. Today, I’d like to propose using our radio programs to help promote Hakuba tourism.”
They exchanged business cards, and Hada pulled out the proposal materials.
“Radio promotion for tourism, huh?”
Yoshikawa looked down at the papers, speaking slowly.
“These days it’s all about social media. Honestly, I’m a little skeptical about how much influence radio still has.”
“True, SNS is powerful. But radio has a relatively stable listener base. It’s also a medium that people absorb naturally—while driving, working, or commuting.”
Yoshikawa nodded thoughtfully.
“We get a lot of tourists driving in, and if the programs play during lift lines at the ski resorts, people might hear them.”
“Exactly. If we blend in local food and hot spring info, we can create a show that catches visitors’ interest.”
“I see... It might be worth trying once.”
Yoshikawa gave the proposal another look.
“Alright, let’s go over the concrete plan—”
Just then, there was a knock at the door.
“President, do you have a moment?”
A staff member entered hurriedly. Yoshikawa stepped out to deal with the matter, and the meeting paused. Hada turned his gaze to the snowy landscape outside the window.
The snow continued to fall gently in Hakuba.
“Since I’m here, maybe I should go out for a drink tonight...”
He hadn’t made plans yet, but having come all the way to Hakuba, now seemed like the perfect time to stumble into a cozy little place.
Yoshikawa returned after finishing his conversation.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.”
“No problem at all,” Hada replied, though his mind was already wandering toward Hakuba’s nightlife.
(Now, where should I go drink...? A bar attached to an onsen inn might be nice, or maybe a local izakaya. A quiet café in a pension could be good too...)
He had completely switched into bar-hunting mode.
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“Well then, back to the earlier discussion—”
As Yoshikawa tried to return to the business talk, Hada subtly picked up the pace.
“Yes! So, I suggest we introduce local tourism content weekly in the radio program’s special feature segment. We can also run commercials as part of the sponsor slot, and perhaps collaborate with local restaurants to offer perks for listeners!”
“I see... But what about production costs for the radio ads?”
“Of course, I’ll send you a quote right away! For this scale, we can offer some very reasonable plans. And we’re flexible with tie-ins, too!”
“Ah, I see. Well then—”
“Yes! Let’s iron out the details later, but how about proceeding in this direction for now?”
With a beaming sales smile, Hada pressed forward, while internally shouting, (I need to wrap this up and get to a bar!)
Yoshikawa looked a bit surprised, but nodded. “Hmm, well, let’s give it a try.”
“Thank you very much! I’ll be on my way then!”
Hada stood up with the speed of a near-decision, shook hands, and quickly left the office.
Yoshikawa was left standing, somewhat stunned.
“Alright, time for some sake!”
The moment he stepped out of the office, Hada involuntarily gasped.
Hakuba’s night was quiet and clear. The frigid air pricked at his cheeks, but it wasn’t an unpleasant cold.
“The temperature must be way lower than Tokyo, but somehow it doesn’t feel like a bad kind of cold.”
Tokyo winters brought bone-chilling wind through the buildings and stale air that made it hard to breathe. In contrast, Hakuba’s cold was oddly refreshing—maybe because the air was so clean.
“I get it now. I can see why ski tourists come all the way out here.”
Thinking that, Hada pulled his hand from his pocket and shrugged his shoulders as he stepped into the street.
“Now... where should I drink?”
He walked toward the station, searching “Hakuba izakaya” on his phone. But all the results were geared toward tourists.
“It’s not that touristy places are bad... but I want somewhere more local, you know?”
He wandered the lively streets lined with ski tourists, peeking into a few places as he went.
“Grilled Woodfire & Craft Beer Bar.”
“Looks stylish, but not the mood I’m in.”
“Genghis Khan Specialty Restaurant.”
“Eh, not in the mood for heavy meat right now.”
“A bar? Nah, I want food too, not just drinks.”
Each time he stopped, something inside him said no.
(What am I even looking for right now...?)
What he wanted was a place to relax, without putting on a front. A quiet space where he could enjoy a drink away from the city buzz. Ideally, somewhere offering a taste unique to this unfamiliar land.
Before long, he had wandered far from the station.
Then, deep in a shadowy alley, he spotted a sign: “Café & Light Meals.”
“A café...? Wait—‘light meals’ means they serve food, right?”
Just when he was about to give up, the perfect little place appeared. It looked like it was part of a pension, with a warm glow reflecting off the snow.
“This... might be it.”
Hada stopped and observed it for a moment.
Then, quietly, he pushed the door open.
“Welcome.”
The soft chime of a bell rang out, and warm air wrapped around him.
A small café & light meal restaurant tucked into a pension: “FULL HOUSE.”
Unlike flashy restaurants aimed at tourists, it had a calm, homely atmosphere.
At the counter stood a man wiping a glass—probably in his late 60s. He looked quiet but had a dignified air, like someone who’d run the place for years.
Jazz played softly in the background. He didn’t recognize the musician, but the slow piano notes filled the room comfortably.
(Nice vibe.)
Hada took a seat at the counter.
“Would you like something to drink?”
The master asked in a calm tone.
“Let’s see... I’ll have a glass of red wine, please.”
“Certainly.”
The master brought out a bottle with steady hands and poured it into a glass.
“This is a Pinot Noir from Hokushin. Fruity, but smooth and easy to drink.”
Hada took a sip. The soft acidity and fruitiness spread gently across his tongue and down his throat.
“I like this place,” he murmured, visibly relaxed.
“If you’d like a starter, here’s a green salad—locally grown vegetables.”
“Oh, thank you. I’ll dig in.”
The salad was colorful and fresh. He picked up a fork. The first bite offered a crisp texture and surprising sweetness.
(The flavor’s strong...)
A simple dressing allowed the ingredients to shine.
“Delicious. The vegetables really taste different out here, huh?”
“The altitude here brings big temperature shifts between day and night. That helps concentrate the sweetness.”
“I see...”
As he sipped his wine, Hada slowly took in the taste.
After finishing the salad and waiting for the pizza, he looked around the store.
Behind the counter, a shelf displayed a lineup of records—mostly jazz classics, though many were unfamiliar.
(Huh, some pretty deep cuts in here.)
His eyes wandered to the wall where an old pair of skis hung.
(They even have these.)
They looked well-maintained despite their age—probably used in the past, not just decorative.
Then he noticed a small wooden box in the corner of the counter.
“What’s this...?”
He reached out to touch it, but then—
“Pizza’s ready.”
“Oh, right.”
He quickly retracted his hand and returned to his seat.
The master placed a piping-hot Margherita pizza in front of him, its fragrant cheese aroma whetting his appetite.
“The dough is homemade.”
“Oh, nice.”
He tore off a piece and took a bite.
(Oh... this is good.)
The chewy crust, tangy tomato, and rich cheese combined into a simple yet deep flavor. Perfect with wine.
“This pizza’s great. The texture of the dough is amazing.”
“We let it rise slowly. The cold weather in Hakuba helps it ferment just right.”
“I see...”
He took another sip of wine, enjoying the lingering flavor.
Finally, the penne arrabbiata arrived.
“I kept the spice mild, but you can add chili if you’d like.”
“No, this is fine.”
He wound the steaming penne onto his fork and took a bite. Sweetness from the tomatoes and a touch of heat spread across his tongue. The gentle burn that followed paired wonderfully with the red wine.
(This place... they take food seriously.)
He’d assumed it was a typical tourist café, but every dish showed care and quality.
“Everything’s been delicious.”
Only a bit of wine remained in his glass.
Hada glanced at the records behind the counter again.
“So, the name ‘FULL HOUSE’—is that from Wes Montgomery?”
The master, still wiping a glass, smiled quietly.
“Yes. Do you like jazz?”
“Not super well-versed, but I used to play guitar. And I work in radio, so I know a bit.”
“Then let’s put on some Wes.”
The master selected a record from behind the counter and placed it on the player.
The needle dropped with a soft click, and the intro to “Full House” began to play. The nimble guitar lines filled the space, playful yet relaxed.
(...What a night.)
Hada raised his glass and savored the last sip.
“Thank you. This is a wonderful place.”
“Thank you. Please come again if you’re ever in Hakuba.”
Hada gave a small bow and stepped out into the night.
Hakuba’s quiet evening stretched out before him. Snow continued to fall gently, and the streets were nearly empty.
(Guess I’ll head back to the hotel...)
Just as he pulled out his phone to check the time—
Brrr... Brrr...
His ringtone echoed. The screen showed his boss’s name.
(This late...? Did something happen?)
“Hello, Hada speaking.”
“Oh, Hada? Sorry for the late call. Were you still awake?”
“Yes, I’m fine. What’s up?”
“Sorry to spring this on you, but we’ve got an important client meeting tomorrow at 9 a.m. in Omiya. It’s an account you handle, so I thought I should check with you.”
“Omiya...?”
“Yeah. I know it’s sudden, and I won’t force you, but if you can make it by 9, that’d really help.”
Hada looked up at the sky and let out a slow breath.
(If I catch the first train, I can just make it...)
“Got it. I’ll be there.”