Pathway to Japanese Literature

Burnt Ruins of Ginza

Splendid One-Tsubo Hall!

What was this One-Tsubo Hall?

What was so splendid about it?

I wanted to tell you about that quickly, but wait—when I thought it through properly, it seemed best to start this story from One-Tsubo Hall's very birth.

Now, regarding its beginnings—this was Ginza.
Yet none of that lively Ginza remained visible anywhere.
As far as one could see stretched a scorched wilderness.

Ash, roof tiles, and still hissing-and-sputtering burnt timbers—this was Ginza.
A Ginza all too tragically transformed.
The truth was, last night this Ginza had been caught in a rain of incendiary bombs and instantly devoured by raging crimson flames, reduced to this state.

There was absolutely no pedestrian traffic.
They had all fled far away.

The police box had also burned down, leaving only the outer shell of the sentry box behind, with no police officer inside.
The bell and magnet of a burnt telephone lay scattered below.

Just then, unusually, an engine sound began echoing through that area, and before one knew it, it gradually drew closer and stopped before the burnt ruins of the police box.
It was what they called an auto rickshaw—that contraption with a motorcycle up front and a cargo box at the rear for hauling goods.

The one straddling the front seat and driving was a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old boy wearing goggles against the wind. His cheeks were jet black. The boy's right arm was tightly bound with a triangular bandage, blood seeping through above it.

“Madam Yaguchi. The police box has burned down like this too, you see. Your house was in this alley—shall we go in?”

The boy looked back over his shoulder in a spirited voice. On top of the cargo box clung an old woman wearing an air raid hood over multiple layered futons.

“Oh, please go in and look, Gen-chan. We’ve come all this way—I must at least see the ashes, or I’ll have no way to face my ancestors.”

“Yeah, got it. Madam, there’s a wire hanging down from above—please lower your head.”

“Alright now, I’m fine. You watch out, Gen-chan.”
“Gen-chan, you watch yourself now.”

The vehicle slid from the burnt ruins of the police box into Ginza Alley.
And it stopped immediately.
It was a crossroads in the back alley right there.

“Madam, that’s where your house used to be.”

“My, it’s completely burned to nothing.”

The voice was cheerful, but a tear glistened in the old woman’s small eyes.

One tsubo of land

“Madam, that’s so unfortunate.”

Gen-chan—to be precise, Tobishima Gen'ichi—spoke considerate words to the old woman crouching in the cargo box.

“It can’t be helped.
It’s not just the Yaguchi house alone—everyone else is in the same situation, you see.”

“That’s true, but…”

“I’m actually one of the lucky ones.
After all, thanks to you letting me ride in the auto rickshaw, Gen-chan, my life was saved—and what’s more, my ancestors’ tablets, important documents, and change of clothes are all safely wrapped up in this futon under me here.
So I’m quite fortunate.”

“We were truly fortunate, weren’t we? Our path kept getting blocked by walls of flame—I thought we’d burn to death four separate times.”

“It’s all your doing, Gen-chan. You kept your head and did what you thought was right—that’s how we escaped each crisis. But poor you—saving me meant all your belongings burned up instead, didn’t they?”

“Yes, that’s right. I’ve been left with nothing but the clothes on my back. Though I did manage to save this one vehicle for the shop’s sake, I can’t stop worrying because none of the shop’s people are anywhere to be seen—I haven’t spotted a single one.”

“What happened? Could it be that the escape route was poorly chosen? They say quite a lot have died in the moat, you know.”

The two remained silent for a while.

"Oh right, Madam—what are you going to do now?"

“Well, I think I’ll head back to Karafuto where my younger brother is. Forgive me, Gen-chan, but could you take me to Ueno Station in this auto rickshaw?”

“Understood. But Karafuto? That’s quite far away, isn’t it?”

"But when it comes to family, I only have my brother who runs a shop in Karafuto," Madam Yaguchi said forlornly.

“Now that I think of it, Gen-chan—I want to give you something as thanks. What would be good?”

Madam Yaguchi, wanting to give Gen’ichi something as thanks for having her life saved, kept pressing him about what he might want.
Gen’ichi repeatedly declined, but when the madam insisted, he suddenly conceived an idea,

“In that case, would you be willing to transfer to me a one-tsubo plot at this corner from your shop’s burnt site?”

he said.

Madam readily agreed, writing out a deed of transfer on the spot and even attaching a request letter to the Yaguchi family’s lawyer regarding the land registration.
This was how Gen'ichi came to be the owner of one tsubo of land.

Burnt Ruins Cleanup

Tobishima Gen'ichi, who had finally made a one-tsubo plot of land in Ginza's burnt ruins his own, was filled with joy that soared to the heavens.

Now, here is where I'll begin my splendid work.
After all, looking around like this, there's not a single shop open yet.

Gen'ichi stood on the one tsubo of scorched earth that had become his property that day and surveyed his surroundings.
As far as the eye could see, everywhere was a burnt wasteland.
No—there were still buildings smoldering here and there with smoke rising from them.

Not a single person was in sight.
Where had everyone gone?

"Hmm. If I open a shop here now, I'd be the first to pioneer postwar reconstruction."
"Alright, I'll open the shop today."

Gen'ichi grew increasingly delighted at how wonderfully fitting it would be for a boy to undertake Ginza's first reconstruction-era shop opening.

"Then what on earth should I open for a shop?"

Now, what should I do?
Gen'ichi walked around the one-tsubo plot of scorched earth in a square pattern, considering various possibilities.

When he had received this land, he had intended to open a tobacco shop here.
Since there had long been a tobacco shop at that corner that had thrived, he thought a tobacco shop would still be best.

But now, he wondered if opening a tobacco shop was really the right move.
Being the first shop to open in the burnt wasteland didn’t seem very appealing for a tobacco shop.
He wanted to sell goods that better represented being a pioneer of reconstruction.

"What should I set out to sell?"

Gen'ichi crossed his arms and walked around and around the one-tsubo plot.
Then an idea occurred to him.

(That’s it.
If someone comes by I’ll stop them and ask for advice)

Even though it was burnt ruins since this was Ginza-dori someone would surely pass by before long.
There must be people who come to see what has become of Ginza out of concern.
I just need to call out to them.

Gen'ichi looked around.
It was still seven in the morning, but no figures were visible at all.
Had everyone forgotten about Ginza?

After drinking a little water from the canteen, Gen'ichi bent down and began tidying up the one-tsubo burnt plot.
He intended to separate the stones from the ash and then reveal the original hard ground.
While he was doing that, someone would surely pass by that street.

Gen'ichi continued working earnestly.
It was backbreaking work.
But it was also interesting.
From the burnt ruins emerged not just stones and ash, but also pieces of wire, ceramic shards, and all sorts of things.

“Hey there, boy.”

Gen’ichi was suddenly called out to by someone.

The sashiko-clad old man

Contrary to expectations, it was Gen'ichi who found himself being called out to by someone.
Gen'ichi looked up in surprise.
There stood the caller on Ginza's main thoroughfare, gazing his way.
The figure wore a sashiko-patterned happi coat with matching hood, wrapped gaiters below the knees, and sturdy shoes.
Only two small eyes peered from beneath the hood - whether those of youth or age remained unclear.
Yet the voice carried the timbre of an elderly man.

“Hey, boy. Isn’t this spot where you’re standing the Nanachome Police Box?”

Gen’ichi had read in some book that firefighter attire like this had been popular from Edo through Meiji times.

“That’s right. It’s the Nanachome Police Box.”

“Whoa! Just what I thought!”
“Almost got myself turned around lookin’ for that door.”
“Can’t make heads nor tails of anything when everything’s burnt flat like this.”
“Right then – I’m off!”

As he turned away with a wave of his sashiko sleeve, hands shot out grabbing air where his arm had been – someone was scrambling after him before his second step landed.

“Hey, wait up, old man!”

“What’s this about telling me to wait…”

“I want to get your opinion for a moment. I’m going to open a shop here—what kind of shop do you think I should start?”

“What’s that?”

The man walked from the main street to where Gen'ichi stood.
Then he took off his hood and slung it over his back.
Now it became clear he was a ruddy-faced old man over sixty with close-cropped white hair.
With kind-looking small eyes and decisive lips framing his face, Gen'ichi laid out his situation frankly before this man.

“Ha ha ha ha, that’s a difficult matter.”
The old man shook his head vigorously from side to side.

“But you know, doing what makes logical sense is best—in other words, you shouldn’t go doing random nonsense. Look at this sashiko hood and happi coat I’m wearing. This was something people of old devised and made—soak this thoroughly in water, and you could leap into any flames without worry. Things that make logical sense in that way still don’t become obsolete even now. So boy, you think about it—when something seems logically sound, you go ahead and put it into action without hesitation. If it were me, what would I sell? Right! How about selling flowers?”

“Flowers?
“Flowers? You mean those beautiful ones?”

“That’s right—those very flowers.”
“Cut stems would do.”
“Potted ones would do too.”
“This follows sound logic, I tell you.”

“Huh? Where’s the logic in that?”

“But isn’t it plain? Look at this burnt-out field.”
“Nothing bleaker under heaven.”
“Our citizens’ hearts gazing on this have grown as rough as scorched soil.”
“Try selling flowers there.”
“They’ll come swarming!”
“Do it and see…… Must be moving on—later, boy.”

The sashiko-hooded old man turned and marched briskly away.

“Sell flowers? I see.”

Gen’ichi muttered as if impressed.

To the outskirts

Gen’ichi had finally decided to sell flowers.
However, Gen’ichi tilted his head in puzzlement, wondering whether something like flowers even existed in Tokyo—no, in all of Japan.

Tokyo had been burnt to ashes like this, and no matter where you looked, not a single flower could be found.
Even setting that aside, due to food shortages, people had been endlessly told to plant vegetables in every scrap of land available—so while vegetables sprouted everywhere, flowers were nowhere to be seen.
If you dared plant flowers where there should be none, you’d be scolded: “Uproot those things this instant and plant even a single scallion instead!”

“Flowers?
“Flowers or anything like that—there’s nowhere to find them.”

Gen’ichi squatted down dejectedly in the burnt ruins.
Before long fatigue set in and he dozed off.

Not knowing how long he had slept, Gen'ichi suddenly opened his eyes.

“That’s right.
The flowers must be blooming.
That sashiko-clad old man would never suggest something impossible.—And oh, I had been running through a spring field filled with flowers in my dream.
Chinese milk vetch, dandelions, clovers—all sorts of things were blooming.
That’s right—if I go to the fields, flowers must be blooming there.”

In his dream, Gen'ichi had found a place with flowers.

He perked up and rose to his feet.
He nimbly mounted the auto rickshaw and revved the engine loudly before setting off.

Swirling up burnt ash in billowing clouds like smoke, the car carrying Gen'ichi sped steadily toward the outskirts.

Passing through Akasaka and Aoyama-dori—the entire area there was nothing but desolate burnt ruins—he then emerged into Shibuya.
Shibuya had also been completely burned out, but a police officer stood at the intersection.
There, Gen'ichi got out of the car and asked the officer.

“Officer, I want to go to a field where flowers are blooming in abundance. Where should I head?”

“Huh? Flowers?”
“In this age of empty bellies, looking at flowers won’t fill your stomach.”
“Or do you plan to eat flowers as a substitute for staple food?”

The police officer was surprised but nevertheless kindly explained that a field where flowers were likely blooming would probably be found starting from a spot a little past Sangenjaya about two kilometers ahead and continuing until reaching the banks of the Tama River.

“Thank you very much.”

Gen'ichi excitedly thanked him in a loud voice, then got back into the auto rickshaw and sped off.
However, no matter how far he went, the landscape remained an unbroken stretch of terrible burnt ruins, and he gradually grew more anxious.

He began to feel like the world’s biggest fool for driving around searching for flowers during such times.

Chinese milk vetch

“Is Sangenjaya still ahead?”

Gen'ichi stopped his auto rickshaw along the way and called out to an adult slumped exhaustedly by the roadside.

"As for Sangenjaya—you passed that already."
"This here's Nakazato."

"Oh! I passed it?"
The Sangenjaya Gen'ichi remembered had been a bustling town lined with large buildings, but since it too had burned down into a pancake-flat ash plain, he apparently hadn't realized he'd passed through.
"Is this the way to Tama River?"

“Tama River, eh? For Tama River, just keep going straight along this single road and you’ll reach Futako Bridge.”

“Thank you.”

“You heading out to buy goods? Those folks over there drive a hard bargain—they’ll quote high prices and won’t sell easily.”

“I see, that sounds difficult.”

Gen’ichi sped his auto rickshaw along the streetcar tracks devoid of streetcars.
Though still burned, with only scattered patches of burnt ruins here and there, most of the town remained intact.
When Gen'ichi noticed this—somehow—as if he had been saved, his chest suddenly expanded.

"Ah, that’s Tama River!"

Before he knew it, he came to where the Tama River came into view.
He crossed Futako Bridge.
The current flowed beautifully.
The riverbank stood crisply colored with eye-awakening green trees and grasses.

"How wonderful."

It was as if he had come to a dreamland. He hadn't realized such a beautiful world still remained in Japan. After crossing the bridge, he turned left and proceeded along the embankment following the river's course.

"Ah! They're blooming, they're blooming! Flowers. So many Chinese milk vetch..."

Gen'ichi stopped the engine and jumped down from the auto rickshaw. He rushed into the field of red Chinese milk vetch blooming across the embankment below.

"Wow, this is amazing... Amazing..."

Gen'ichi ran about the Chinese milk vetch field like someone possessed—leaping across blossoms one moment, rolling through them the next. Then, as if abruptly regaining his senses, he settled back down atop the flowers with a light thud.

“Wait. If I take these Chinese milk vetch to my shop in Ginza and put them out, will they actually sell?”
"I know tulips and hyacinths would sell well, but there’s nothing like that here…"

He hesitated briefly, but to Gen’ichi these red Chinese milk vetch flowers appeared more beautiful than anything else could be, so he soon resolved himself and began digging them up from the roots.

And packed them tightly into the canvas that had been loaded onto the back of the vehicle.

“Now then, who should I pay for these flowers?... Ha ha ha ha! Since they’re Chinese milk vetch, these are free!”

Gen'ichi, now in high spirits, boarded his flower-laden auto rickshaw and set off for Ginza once more.

Fifty sen per plant.

When Gen'ichi returned to the burnt ruins of Ginza, he promptly began selling Chinese milk vetch.

“Beautiful flowers here, cheap cheap!
“Just fifty sen for both hands full!”

Chinese milk vetch roots—skillfully bundled in newspaper with soil and wrapped with straw—were put on sale at fifty sen per plant.
Before settling on this price, Gen'ichi had thought long and hard.

At first he’d considered setting it at ten sen.
After all, if you went to Tama River embankment, you could take as much as you wanted for free—so even ten sen might seem high.

However, to drive the auto rickshaw all the way there, he needed money for gasoline and had to anticipate tire puncture repairs.

He needed to buy a shovel for digging up Chinese milk vetch and water the plants to keep them from withering—which meant purchasing a watering can too. If he could get his hands on them, he wanted to stock up on a small hoe and wooden planters. Then he would plant these Chinese milk vetch. If he did that, they would surely make a splendid display.

Moreover, Gen'ichi had to eat three times a day.
At night, he had to borrow a place where he could stretch out his limbs to sleep.
When he considered all this, even if they were just free Chinese milk vetch, unless he sold them for at least fifty sen apiece, his business wouldn’t be viable—and Gen'ichi wouldn’t be able to eat.

“Come on, please buy.”
“Beautiful flowers here, fifty sen per plant!”

Whenever someone passed through the burnt ruins of Ginza, Gen'ichi would call out while holding up one plant of Chinese milk vetch high.
However, the passersby would only turn toward Gen'ichi with a smile, and no one came to his shop to make a purchase.
Gen'ichi was gradually losing confidence.

Why weren't they selling?
Whoever came by would smile when they saw the Chinese milk vetch.
Seeing that made clear people didn't dislike the flowers.
If they didn't dislike them, why wouldn't they buy any?

“Ah, maybe people don’t have any money?”

That couldn’t be it.
It was only fifty sen.

“Or maybe the location isn’t good enough?
Since this shop is set back a bit from Ginza’s main street, maybe folks find it too much trouble to come all the way here?”

He supposed that was probably the case. But there was nothing he could do about this. This was where the shop stood—there was no changing that.

"I’ll keep at it there for now—until customers start coming." Gen'ichi resolved to do just that. And even if they didn’t sell, he opened the shop every day.

Then, one day, three young men—quite unusually—approached his shop.
The three peered at the items displayed in Gen'ichi’s shop and burst out laughing in unison.

The trio.

“What the hell? If you’re selling flowers—it’s just Chinese milk vetch!” jeered one of the young men. “Tryin’ to make fools of us?”

“Who’d buy that crap?” another snorted.

“Yeah, yeah,” joined the third. “Everyone’s starvin’ their guts out here. We’d buy grub if you had any, but flowers? Nobody wants that junk.” He jabbed a finger at Gen'ichi’s forehead. “You’re cracked in the head, kid!” The trio roared with laughter that echoed across the ashen street.

Gen'ichi felt heat surge up from his belly. (Damn idiots! What I sell’s my own business!) He wanted to scream at them—(Mind your own damn business!)—but clenched his jaw until it ached.

After we all got burned out and left with nothing... What good’s fighting now? he thought bitterly. We gotta stick together. Help each other out. Keep smilin’ no matter what.

“Ha ha ha, how funny!” Gen’ichi laughed, forcing a cheerful tone.

“Huh?! He’s the one calling it funny, this brat...”

“If no one’s buying—you guys should buy some!”

“All guts and no brains, Horsefly Boy. Go wash your face with miso soup and come back when you’ve got sense.”

“Ah, I could really go for some miso soup.”

“See? That’s why everyone wants to buy food.”
“Flowers won’t work.”
“You’ll just lose money keeping the shop open.”

“But I will sell Chinese milk vetch.”
“I’ll definitely make them sell!”

“You’re so stubborn…”

“You’re an idiot…”

“It’s a loss.
You’ll be crying any minute now.”

The three young men, each having spat out the words they wanted to say to Gen'ichi, left the spot.
As Gen'ichi watched, the trio opened the load they had brought on their bicycles and set up their stall on the main street.

“Come and get your delicious sweet potatoes!”
“Dried sweet potatoes!”

“We’ve got steamed sweet potatoes too! Step right up, step right up!”

“You can’t go hungry now. Come and buy these sweet, sweet dried sweet potatoes!”

When the three young men began taking turns hawking their dried and steamed sweet potatoes, passersby immediately clustered around their stall. A crowd kept forming in front of their potato stand, and their wares flew off like winged things. Within about two hours, they had completely sold out.

The trio beamed like all three Ebisu deities assembled in one place. Then they approached Gen’ichi and taunted:

“Hey, Horsefly Boy.
“Haven’t sold out that field of Chinese milk vetch yet?”
“Heh.”
“Not a single one’s sold yet, has it?”
“What’re you gonna do, stuck like this…”

“I’ll definitely sell flowers.”
“No matter what anyone says, I’ll sell them.”

Gen'ichi shouted in a voice that seemed to strain every fiber.

Painter Inuyama
After the trio sold out their sweet potatoes and departed, Gen'ichi kept guarding his one-tsubo stall, resolved to sell even a single plant of Chinese milk vetch or dandelions, and persisted.
Yet ultimately not a single plant sold, and soon the day began sinking into desolate dusk.

All day long covered in burnt ruins' dust, smelling foul odors and going hungry while being showered with insults from the trio and ignored by people passing on the opposite street—Gen'ichi had completely lost his vigor and become utterly exhausted; when his eyes caught sight of crimson sunset light falling over a burnt chimney among the ruins he could bear it no longer—large teardrops fell drop by drop onto burnt ashes.

"Should I just die..."

Gen'ichi bit his lips.
I'm so pathetic.
Tokyo's miserable.
Japan's miserable.
I can't find any joy or hope in the future.

Just then.
Two legs wrapped in gaiters came to a stop before Gen'ichi.
Who is it?

“Well, well! This is impressive.
“Chinese milk vetch and dandelions, eh?”

A gravelly voice boomed above Gen’ichi’s head.
He had been crying with his face down, tears streaking his cheeks.
He scrubbed at them with his sleeves folded on his lap before lifting his face.

Before Gen'ichi stood a man who looked kind at first glance. It was unclear whether he was young or not, but it later turned out he was still a twenty-year-old youth. The difficulty in discerning his age likely stemmed from his pumpkin-like face and tangled hair—resembling a sparrow’s nest that had been vigorously stirred—fluttering in the evening breeze, giving him the comical appearance of a scarecrow that had just leapt from a field. He carried a drawing board and paint box slung over his shoulders, with a folded easel gripped in his right hand. Anyone seeing this would have immediately recognized him as a painter, but Gen'ichi failed to notice it right away.

“You’re looking awfully down.”
“Oh! You’ve got black smudges all around your eyes.”
“Oh, so you were crying.”
“Ha ha ha ha! No guts for a kid like you.”
“What on earth happened?”

Then the conversation began, and Inuyama Nekosuke, the painter, listened thoroughly to everything from Gen'ichi's personal circumstances to how he had opened this stall without selling a single item.

“Then there’s no need to mope about anything, is there?
"The idea of selling flowers is good, so you should be more patient and keep at it until the day they sell."
“However, if you don’t make it more eye-catching, people will just walk right by without noticing.”
“Very well.”
“I’ll paint a signboard for you.”

With those words, Inuyama Nekosuke opened his sketchboard and then and there smoothly painted a beautiful floral signboard for him.
Gen'ichi received the signboard and, beaming from ear to ear, forgot even to say thank you.

Naming

Gen'ichi fastened the beautiful floral signboard that Painter Inuyama Nekosuke had painted for him to the end of a pole and hoisted it high above his one-tsubo stall.

This proved remarkably effective.

“Oh! Flowers.”
“They’re selling flowers here!”

And pedestrians came rushing over from the street.

“Chinese milk vetch, huh? These are nice.”
“Fifty sen per plant.”
“Hmm.”
“It’s not cheap... but compared to other things, I guess this is about the right price.”
“All right, I’ll take ten plants.”
“I’ll plant these in our burnt ruins and turn our yard into a Chinese milk vetch field.”

Saying so, customers continued coming in an unbroken stream—happily making their purchases and leaving—in what seemed a wondrous succession.

“Mr. Inuyama.”
“The flowers are selling like mad today!”
“It’s all thanks to Mr. Inuyama.”
“It’s all thanks to this flower signboard you painted for me yesterday.”
“Thank you! Thank you!”

Gen'ichi shouted loudly from his one-tsubo stall toward the street.

Inuyama Nekosuke opened a caricature sketch shop on Ginza Street that morning. He suggested to Gen'ichi that moving out to this main street would be advisable too, but Gen'ichi had no intention of abandoning the one-tsubo plot in the back alley transferred to him by Madam Yaguchi.

With Mr. Inuyama having opened a shop nearby and offering constant encouragement, Gen'ichi stopped shedding tears altogether.

Painter Inuyama created another floral signboard for him that day. They erected a pole on the main street and fastened it to the top. "The newly opened florist lies further within," read the guiding text. "Please do stop by for a moment," it continued.

When this promotional signboard went up, passersby began noticing Gen'ichi's shop far more than before.

“You there, Gen-chan.
You ought to give this shop a proper name.”

With that declaration, Painter Inuyama approached the front of Gen’ichi’s stall and rapped his knuckles against the signboard.
The boy suddenly understood—this enterprise required nomenclature.

“What would you suggest we call it, Mr. Inuyama?”

“Hmm.”
“What’s wanted here is something crisp and uncluttered.”

“Ah! I’ve got it.
How about naming it One-Tsubo Flower Shop?”

“One-Tsubo Flower Shop? Now what might that—”

“Because our plot here measures precisely one tsubo! That’s why One-Tsubo Flower Shop fits perfectly.”

“Ah! Capital notion.
Splendid choice indeed!”

Mr. Inuyama wielded a brush and inscribed the name "One-Tsubo Flower Shop" onto this signboard.

Gen'ichi, now thoroughly delighted, sat down on an empty crate and continued his business while basking in the warm sunlight.
The customers kept coming in such a steady stream—astonishingly so—that a crowd formed in front of the shop.

A little before noon, the street suddenly grew noisy.
That was the usual trio arriving.
When they laid out dried sweet potatoes and steamed sweet potatoes, the three used megaphones and began shouting boisterously.
Then all the customers got pulled toward the trio.
The trio's voices grew increasingly carried away.

Gen'ichi felt a little lonely again.

Half a year later.

Here, the story leapt forward about half a year.

Ginza too, though reconstructed with barracks-style buildings, had made considerable progress in its revival.

Occupation forces officers and soldiers walked through the bustling crowd with lively expressions, parting the sea of people as they went.

On the paving stones of Ginza’s streets, street stalls stood lined up in rows, packing the long nine-chō stretch between Kyōbashi and Shinbashi.

The power lines that had been hanging down the middle of the road were neatly cleared away, and trams now ran there.

The passersby’s attire had changed considerably—monpe-clad figures had become fewer，and cloth gaiters were scarcely seen.

The war had ended, and the day of peace had come.

However, the misery of defeat covered everything and every place, and the Japanese people had to feel pain with every breath they took.

But the war had ended, and peace had come.
The air raid alarms no longer wailed.
They no longer had to dart between incendiary bombs and explosives.
Though harsh now, day by day the return of joy grew more certain.

How far had that joy returned?
What form had it taken as it appeared before their eyes?
People gathered on Ginza's streets seeking it.
Thus formed an immense human tide.

In the past, standing on Shinbashi Bridge would let you know exactly where Gen'ichi's shop was located.
But now it had become completely impossible.
Houses had been built, blocking the view entirely.

Even from Ginza's streets, Gen'ichi's shop wasn't visible. This was because barracks-style buildings had mostly been erected along the streets as well. When reaching the intersection with the familiar police box, Gen'ichi's One-Tsubo Shop would begin to come into view—there in the depths beyond...

Gen'ichi's shop had not yet become a proper building. It remained a tent-roofed stall. However, its interior bustled with activity.

Chinese milk vetch and dandelions were no longer lined up.

Chrysanthemums, daffodils, gentians, cosmos, along with plum look-alikes and kariyasu grass were arranged in thick bamboo tubes.
It had completely turned into a high-class flower shop.

The protagonist Gen-chan, his sun-tanned face beaming cheerfully, attended to the customers’ needs.
Somehow having mastered the skill, he would deftly arrange several flowers into bouquets that only needed to be tossed into a vase to take shape.

“Well, you see, the wholesale price of flowers is quite high.”
“I’m sorry for asking such high prices.”

Gen’ichi even uttered lines unbefitting his face.

“That’s quite expensive.”

The customers would sigh, yet still buy the flowers with a bright smile.

Flowers.
Flowers.
It had been such a long time since I'd last seen you.

Defeat Boulevard

Although tent-roofed, Gen'ichi's one-tsubo shop was thriving.

However, the trio of young men who had mocked Gen'ichi as "Horsefly Boy" were nowhere to be seen in the area.
While they had been selling sweet potatoes, things were still manageable, but later when sweet potatoes became regulated goods, they were prohibited from selling them.
Even so, they sold.
This was because if they didn't sell those, they would have no income and couldn't eat.
In the end, their goods were completely seized—some were confiscated outright, while others were forcibly purchased at absurdly low prices.

When the three were released from detention, they had no work and struggled to eat.
As a result, they finally descended into a life of crime and committed robbery.

If they had possessed righteous hearts and believed in God, they might not have fallen into such evil ways. However, they had been unfortunate enough to lack any teacher who might guide them toward that better path, nor did they have good friends; after their factory burned in an air raid and they lost their jobs, they were crushed by miserable living conditions until their hearts had sunk completely into the gutter. —And now those three were living inside prison. That was why the trio no longer showed their faces in Ginza.

Gen'ichi knew nothing of such matters.
Though they were hateful, when they remained absent so long, he began to worry about what had happened to them.

Mr. Inuyama too had not shown his face around lately.
However, Mr. Inuyama was not living in prison.
He had never been particularly robust to begin with, and standing on the bustling Ginza streets while inhaling swirling sand and dust into his lungs seemed to have taken its toll—by evening he would develop fevers and suffer violent coughing fits.
That was why he had quit working in Ginza three months prior.

However, he had improved considerably.
He was now working indoors as well.
He painted silk-mounted Japanese artworks at home—the kind Occupation Forces soldiers bought as souvenirs.
This was a far better job than standing on public streets doing portrait sketches.
So Mr. Inuyama could buy eggs and meat on the black market—thanks to that, his health returned.
And he would occasionally appear in Ginza to visit Gen'ichi’s one-tsubo shop.

He had already redrawn the shop sign five or six times for him.
Gen'ichi tried to pay him for it, but Mr. Inuyama always—

“Don’t be ridiculous! Even without receiving such things from Gen-chan, I can manage to eat just fine.”

With that, he absolutely refused to accept it.

“But even I have been making quite a profit lately.”
“Please take this.”

“When I put on an exhibition someday, I’ll have you buy them then, Gen-chan.”

While Mr. Inuyama prefaced that this was a joke, even so, his eyes sparkled...
What had become of that painter?

Those Left Behind

Before long, Ginza began its reconstruction with tremendous momentum.
As the first step in this effort, they decided to line the main street of Ginza Hatcho with shops, leaving not a single vacant lot.

The construction was begun with great fanfare.
Although they were cheap wooden buildings, an astonishing amount of money was spent.
However, as the burnt ruins disappeared one by one and shops redolent of fresh timber rose up, this undeniable liveliness made everyone genuinely happy.

As construction progressed along the main streets, now construction on Ginza's back streets began. If the main streets were becoming lively, people would surely come to the back streets as well; therefore, the aim became to erect commercial buildings without falling behind the main streets.

These property owners would lament "At these prices, just building a house leaves your wallet empty," yet while grumbling such things, they kept rapidly erecting buildings one after another—all while having ample funds to begin with.

Day by day, Ginza’s main street visibly grew livelier as buildings rose up in orderly rows.
In competition with this, the back streets' townscape also changed day by day, with new shops putting up lively grand opening banners here and there.
“Ginza’s been rebuilt.”
“It’s gotten so lively.”

“So I’ve heard.”
“I was just thinking of going there today—has it really been rebuilt that much?”

“You still haven’t gone yet? Then go take a look right away—you’ll be amazed. All sorts of goods are lined up too. On the other hand, they’re eye-poppingly expensive, though.”

Even when told the goods were said to be expensive, there was no one who would therefore decide against going to Ginza; wanting to see what items were lined up and what high price tags were attached, young people naturally, but even elderly folks too pushed their way into Ginza in boisterous droves.

And as it became a fresh topic of conversation, spreading rapidly from person to person, those who heard these reports would all come flocking to Ginza.

“So expensive, so expensive! With prices like this, you can’t buy anything at all!”

Even as they said this, at first it seemed people were only going there to look around, but those very people gradually grew accustomed to the high prices as they strolled through Ginza time and again, and upon seeing bags, matches, lighters—things they’d always felt they lacked—they’d end up wanting them and making purchases.
And so in Ginza, goods began selling tremendously.
What had become of Gen'ichi’s tent shop?

Pitifully, his tent shop had been battered by rain into a dirty hue and become shabby; what’s more, with both neighboring shops and those across the street having all become proper buildings, Gen'ichi’s tent shop had grown even more dilapidated. What was going through Gen'ichi’s mind?

Avenue of Dawn

The rebuilt shops along Ginza’s main street had all been completed and now stood splendidly, so Gen'ichi’s shop could no longer be seen from anywhere along the main street as it once had been. Moreover, with even the area around Gen'ichi’s shabby tent shop now filled with proper buildings, the shabbiness of his shop stood out all the more. Consequently, the number of customers buying flowers gradually decreased.

Gen'ichi wore a sullen face and remained motionless as a stone in the center of his shop.
(I want to build a proper building too, but I still haven't saved up enough money.)
Ah, ah... When will I ever be able to build a proper shop, I wonder.

Gen'ichi's lament was profound.

(I'm working as hard as I can, but the money just isn't coming in like I hoped.)
I'm putting my all into customer service too, but the customers just won't come like I hoped.
(How can I get my hands on a lot of money, I wonder)

Around that time, newspapers were reporting robbery incidents daily.
Overnight, the amounts that fell into the robbers' hands reached hundreds of thousands, even millions of yen.
Gen'ichi certainly never entertained the idea of becoming a robber.
However, I couldn’t help but marvel at how such large sums of money were just lying around in people’s houses.
Couldn't someone lend me a bit of that money?
If only there were someone who would spend even 100,000 yen for me—even if we used flimsy boards—we could at least build something resembling a proper house. But this wish of mine remained nothing more than a dream.
No one offered to lend him such money.

That day in the early morning, Gen'ichi sped down the highway in his auto rickshaw, slicing through the wind.
He needed to reach the opposite bank of the Tama River to procure flowers.
The sun had just risen, and not a soul could be seen even in the fields.

At that moment, a car came speeding toward him from far ahead on the same road.
It was a small vehicle called a Jeep used by the U.S. military.
Appearing to be moving at high speed, it raised a billowing cloud of dust behind it.

Anticipating the moment when he would pass the Jeep, Gen'ichi began slowing down.
The Jeep gradually drew closer along the single-lane road.
When they were about three hundred meters apart, the vehicle suddenly jerked its head leftward, lifted into midair as it veered off the road, plunged into a rice field, and flipped over.

“Oh no, this is bad!”

Gen'ichi, who had witnessed this, was startled. Revving the three-wheeler’s engine to full throttle and rushing to the scene, he found braking too cumbersome and leaped from the vehicle to peer into the rice field.

The Jeep lay embedded upside-down in the rice field with its wheels pointing skyward.
When he looked to see what had become of its occupant，they lay sprawled five meters from the wreckage.
There was no telling whether they were alive or dead.
Their face glowed crimson with blood.
This spelled disaster.

Gendon

Gen'ichi leaped into the muddy rice field at full speed.
He passed by the overturned Jeep and approached the fallen American.

Blood was still trickling steadily from the man’s face; he was alive, but his eyes remained closed.

Beside him lay his fallen hat.
It was an officer's hat.

“Stay with me! Hey, hello.
“Hello.”
“Stay with me!”

Gen'ichi deeply regretted not knowing how to say "Stay with me" in English.

Even so, the man showed no signs of regaining consciousness.

“...I have to get him to the hospital quickly—”

Gen'ichi suddenly hoisted the man up.
The body was quite heavy.
However, because Gen'ichi was strong, he carried him across the rice field and reached the road.
Then he placed the man into the cargo area at the back of the three-wheeler and started driving.

While driving, the man seemed to regain consciousness.

The man said something.
However, Gen'ichi didn't quite understand; while giving a vague reply, he pressed onward.

He brought the vehicle to a stop at the hospital entrance.
Gen'ichi jumped down from the vehicle and called out loudly for a nurse.
From the back, a nurse in a white uniform appeared with clattering footsteps.

“An American officer has been seriously injured in a car accident.
I loaded him into the back of my vehicle and brought him here.
Please bring a stretcher quickly.
The director is here, right?
Please tend to him quickly.”
Gen'ichi spoke rapidly.
The nurses hurriedly rushed into the back and immediately came out carrying a stretcher.

Then they stepped down to the entrance and went around to the back of Gen'ichi's three-wheeler.

"I don't need a stretcher."
The American waved his hand upon seeing the stretcher and said this.
He stepped down from the three-wheeler and stood up.
The blood-caked face looked lively and was smiling.
The nurses were so shocked they were at a loss for words.

“Where is the doctor?”
The American repeated in Japanese.

“Nurses. Quickly take this gentleman to the operating room. Quickly, quickly!” Because Gen'ichi had said this, the nurses finally came to their senses and guided the American inside. The American, who had started to enter, executed an about-face and came back out to the entrance. And he strode briskly toward Gen'ichi and requested a handshake.

“Thank you very much. ...Oh! You’re Gendon, aren’t you?” The American opened his eyes wide and stared at Gen’ichi’s face; Gen’ichi had been called “Gendon” at the shop where he worked. Who on earth was this American officer who knew the name “Gendon”?

Major Hei

Gen'ichi—from the American officer he had rescued and brought to this hospital—

“Oh! You’re Gendon, aren’t you?” came the call—and he widened his eyes in surprise.
Who could this officer who knew his name be?
“Oh! So that’s it.
“So you’re Mr. Hei!”
Gen'ichi turned bright red and shouted.

“That’s right—I’m Mr. Hei.”
“You remembered, didn’t you?”

The officer’s large body came lurching toward Gen’ichi, dragging his feet—and in the next moment, Gen’ichi’s hand was enveloped within the other man’s large hands and shaken vigorously.

“So it was Mr. Hei! To think we’d meet again in a place like this…”

“Because I liked Japan, I volunteered to come here.”

“You’re an officer, right? I didn’t recognize you at all.”

“I bet. After all, my uniform now looks a bit different from when I was that drunkard Mr. Hei who used to bang on your shop late at night and get you to bring out alcohol and canned goods after hours. But hey, Gendon, deep down I’m still the same Mr. Hei from back then. Feel at ease with me. There are loads of interesting stories to tell.”

After saying this, Major Hei laughed boisterously—but suddenly,

"Agh—ow-ow-ow—"

He grimaced.
His boisterous laughter had aggravated his wounds.

Had the nurses not urged Major Hei to go inside for treatment then, he would have kept reminiscing with Gendon endlessly.

Major Hei then entered the hospital.
And he received treatment in the operating room.

Contact was made with his unit, and it was decided that after three hours had passed, he would be transported by ambulance back to the unit.
Until then, it was decided that Major Hei would sleep quietly in the hospital room.

When Gen'ichi parted with the Major, he talked about the small shop in Ginza.
Then the Major said he would visit Gendon’s shop to express his gratitude one day.

Gen'ichi was escorted by the nurses and left the hospital cheerfully.
And mounting the auto rickshaw, he sped off once again down the suburban road to procure flowers.

Gen'ichi gripped the steering wheel and drove the vehicle, his thoughts having flown back seven or eight years before he knew it.

It was Mr. Hei, the drunkard who often came to the shop back then.
Mr. Hei was an architect who had quite a good income, yet he disliked putting on airs and lived in a rented two-story house in the neighborhood.
And late at night, he would often pound on the front door of the shop where Gen'ichi worked as if to break it, demanding they sell him whiskey and canned goods.
Everyone resented it, but only young Gen-don, the smallest among them, would get up to open the door and sell him goods whenever Mr. Hei called out.
That Mr. Hei had become a major and come to Japan.
It was a happy event.

The Sluggish Shop

Major Hei appeared in front of Gendon’s tent-covered shop as promised.

It was three weeks after that incident had occurred.

“Oh, Gendon, you’re selling cute flowers.”
“Are they selling well?”

With those words, Major Hei entered with a beaming face and surveyed the shop’s interior.

Gen'ichi, since customers rarely came into this shabby tent-covered shop these days, was leaning back in his chair reading a novel titled Mars Exploration. How wonderful it would be if Mars exploration could truly be achieved just like in this novel—riding a rocket equipped with a nuclear engine, cutting through the vast pitch-black universe, gradually approaching Mars... Ah, how wonderful, he thought. What a marvelous feeling. How delightful that must be—Gen'ichi had become thoroughly immersed as a Mars explorer when Major Hei called out to him.

Gen'ichi hurriedly closed the book and stood up to greet the Major.

“Ah, welcome. Thank you for coming.”

Gen’ichi bowed repeatedly.
Major Hei followed suit and bowed.
Major Hei was proficient in Japanese.
He had been in Japan as a boy too, and after graduating from middle school had returned to America, received his education, graduated from university, and while working as an architectural engineer, had come back again to this Japan.

“How is your leg? Does it still hurt?”

“It’s completely healed.”
“Because you rushed over then and immediately took me to the hospital, the bad bacteria didn’t get in.”
“That’s why it healed so quickly.”
“Thank you, thank you.”

“That’s good to hear. Anyway, I believe it was God who brought me together with Mr. Hei, and I’m grateful.”

“That’s true. It’s a strange fate we share, Gendon.”

“I’d like to offer you a drink of your favorite alcohol, Mr. Hei, but there’s nothing available right now.”

“No need, no need. I’ve got plenty of liquor on my end. I could bring you some.”

“I don’t drink alcohol.”

“Ah, I see.”
Major Hei made a look of disappointment, then asked in a formal tone, “Is this shop doing good business?”

Gen'ichi honestly explained that sales had recently become completely poor.
He said that even if he lowered the prices, buyers didn’t come.

Major Hei listened to that and nodded.

“To sell flowers, you need to make the shop more beautiful.
The shop’s tent mustn’t be dirty.
Why don’t you build a house like the neighboring ones?”

Major Hei said this and inquired.
Thereupon Gen’ichi explained that building a house on this one tsubo would cost ten thousand yen, but that he certainly didn’t possess such funds himself.
Then Major Hei,

“In that case, there’s good news. I’ll come again next Saturday. Just wait until then,” he said with a comforting look as he departed.

A wonderful story

Gen’ichi, having been left with Major Hei’s cryptic words of “In that case, I have good news,” waited eagerly, wondering what it could possibly be.

The following Saturday, Major Hei duly appeared at Gen'ichi’s shop.
Ducking his head, Major Hei entered.
And then he spread out the rolled paper he had been carrying in front of Gen'ichi.

“Gendon, wouldn’t you like a shop like this?”

Major Hei drew a circle around the blueprint with his long white fingers.

“Wh-what did you say…?”

Gen’ichi was completely bewildered.
On the blueprint Major Hei had spread out was drawn a tower-like house.
It was a three-story structure.
No—with the basement, it was actually four stories.

The first floor was designed as a shop open to the street, with numerous flower pots arranged inside, and even depicted plants like orchids hanging from above.

“Wouldn’t you like to have a shop like this?”

The major watched Gen’ichi—eyes wide like saucers, chest heaving with excitement as he stared transfixed at the blueprint—and said this with a laugh.

“I’d like to have it, but…”
“I’d like to have it, but given my current circumstances, it’s as impossible as a Martian expedition—something I can’t manage on my own,” Gen’ichi concluded with a resigned look.

“Well then, as per this plan, I’ll build this shop there.”

“Wh-what did you say…?”

Gen'ichi involuntarily let out a loud cry and stared at Major Hei's face.

Major Hei laughed cheerfully, revealing his perfectly aligned teeth.

"This is a building I designed."
"I'll construct it myself."
"I'll reside on the third floor."
"You may use the remaining second floor, first floor, and basement for your shop or place beds there."
"If you accept these terms, I'll erect this building."
"How about it, Gendon?"

Hearing this, Gen'ichi found himself speechless and released two deep sighs in succession.
Then he gave his own cheek a firm pinch.

“Ah, it hurts.”
“It’s not a dream,” Gen’ichi muttered to himself.

Major Hei took out his pipe, lit it, and laughed.

“Do you consent, Gendon?”

“Thank you.
Please do,” Gen’ichi finally managed to say.
It was completely unexpected.
However, was it really acceptable to presume upon Major Hei’s kindness?

“There’s no need to worry.
“I’ll build the house,and you'll keep watch over it.”

“Are you really going to live on the third floor, Major Hei?”

“I want to put one bed there.”

“That’s fine, but it’s only one tsubo total.”
“With your tall frame, Major Hei—could a bed that fits you even be placed here?”

“There’s no need to worry, you...”

Grand Opening of One-Tsubo Hall

A splendid square building resembling a tower stood.

The neighbors were astonished.
After all, their houses were mostly single-story, with only the occasional two-story home having low ceilings.

However, Gen'ichi's newly constructed building was so high it seemed to tower into the clouds.
Though it was a three-story structure from ground level, each floor had such high ceilings that the building stood remarkably tall.
Therefore, when viewed from outside, it inevitably appeared as a tower.
The tower completely towered over the neighboring houses.
Or rather, it would be more accurate to say it towered over the entire Ginza district.

The entire structure had been brightly finished in cream color. Green roof tiles were laid across its top. Everyone passing through Ginza turned their eyes toward this new tower-like building. When they embedded a single red rose mosaic near the roofline, the structure transformed into something resembling a bride arrayed in full ceremonial splendor.

“They created a magnificent tower.”
“What is that tower?”

“Well, what could it be?”
“Someone’s done something awfully bold these days.”
“Let’s go have a proper look.”

Everyone gathered beneath this tower.

At that moment, they saw.
In front of the first-floor shopfront, beautiful flowers of various colors were potted and lined up in full display.
“Ah, it’s a flower shop!”

“Oh, how beautiful!”
“Were flowers ever this beautiful?”

“How delightful!”
“Driven out by incendiary bombs, I’d completely forgotten that such beautiful flowers even existed.”
“I’ll buy a pot.”
“I’ll show them to my wife and kids and make them happy.”

The people who had come near to see the tower now became captivated by the beauty of the flowers and vied with each other to buy potted plants from Gen'ichi’s shop.

Gen’ichi was drenched in sweat and let out a cry of joy.

This new Ginza landmark was named "One-Tsubo Hall". That a mere one tsubo of land had been utilized so efficiently was something that had probably never been seen before.

The shop’s goods were selling too well—by around one in the afternoon, items were nearly gone from the shelves. Finding himself at a loss, Gen'ichi considered whether to hire someone to procure flowers. Yet at that moment, what came to mind was Mr. Inuyama the painter, who had always lifted his spirits.

Right—I’ll ask Mr. Inuyama to help at the shop for a while.

Having resolved this, he visited Mr. Inuyama’s residence that night.

The painter was away from home—rumor had it he’d gone to the countryside with no return date in sight. Gen'ichi returned to One-Tsubo Hall steeped in disappointment.

He had another worry.
Tomorrow was Saturday, and Major Hei would come.
And now that they were finally going to move the bed up to the third floor, he worried whether it would fit properly into such a cramped space, and whether Major Hei would be able to sleep comfortably there on Saturday night.

Moving the Bed to the Third Floor

Major Hei drove his jeep himself and arrived at One-Tsubo Hall on Saturday afternoon.

“Hoh. What a thriving business!”

Major Hei was so overjoyed that he let out a sharp whistle. Truly, there was such a crowd in front of One-Tsubo Hall that even Gen'ichi’s face—who should have been working inside—wasn’t visible.

Major Hei entered the shop.
When he saw Gen'ichi's face, he extended his large hand and shook hands.

“Congratulations on this splendid success!”

“Thank you, Major Hei. Everything is thanks to you.”

“Oh, I’ve only done a small token of thanks for you. I intend to put in even more effort for your sake.”

“Thank you.”

Gen'ichi firmly shook the Major's hand in return.

Major Hei - who never forgot that liquor store clerk who'd once shown him kindness long ago.

Major Hei - who held gratitude for being helped through quick thinking when caught in unexpected calamity.
And Major Hei - who had built this splendid One-Tsubo Hall.
Gen'ichi found himself speechless before such depth of human kindness from the Major.

"When will you move the bed to the third floor?" Gen'ichi asked Major Hei.

“I’ll move it up now.”

“Ah, right. Have you already brought the bed by truck?”

“No, I loaded it onto the jeep.”

“Huh? In a jeep? No way—can a bed even fit in a jeep?”
“And how are you going to get it up to the third floor?”
“You’ll need to gather about ten laborers, I suppose?”

“No, I can handle it alone.”

“You’re saying such things.
“You’re such a joker, aren’t you?”

“I’m not lying.
“Come along and see for yourself.”

Having said that, Major Hei headed toward the jeep that had been left waiting outside.

Gen’ichi also dashed outside with the intent of contributing triple the effort.
Then Major Hei leaned his upper body into the jeep and rummaged around inside before eventually pulling out a bundled cloth contraption.

“This is it, Gendon.
“This is the bed.”

“Huh? That’s it?
“Oh...
“That’s a hammock, isn’t it?”

“Exactly.
“It’s a hammock.
“For us soldiers, hammocks make perfectly adequate beds.”

Having said that, Major Hei shouldered the hammock and went up to the third floor.

“I’m so surprised... So it was a hammock after all?”

While marveling at American servicemen’s simple lifestyles, Gen’ichi helped the Major hang his hammock. They suspended it diagonally across the room. Hung this way, it appeared even the Major’s tall frame would fit comfortably.

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Gen’ichi took a deep breath. Seeing this, the Major let out a hearty laugh.

A Major Success

The three-story One-Tsubo Hall stood conspicuously taller than the surrounding buildings, its head raised joyfully toward the sky.

“Wow, what an amazing shop you’ve built here.”
“Ah, it’s a flower shop.”

“Hey, there’s posters saying they’ve got a painting exhibition on the second floor!”

“Can they really hold an exhibition in such a cramped place?”
“How’d they manage that? Let’s go up and check.”

Ginza’s customers loved these oddities.
They scaled the narrow stairs like mountain climbers reaching the second floor.

“Whoa.”
“They pulled it off!”

“Hmm, they’ve covered every single wall with paintings.”
“I’ve never seen such an efficiently used exhibition space before.”

That was exactly right.
Every wall on all four sides was completely filled with Japanese paintings on silk fabric.
There were wildflower studies, charming children’s portraits, rural landscapes blooming with seasonal flowers.

“Ah, this is delightful!”
“Who knew paintings could be so beautiful and wonderful?”

“We were so consumed by the war that we’d completely forgotten this kind of world existed.”

"Looking at these paintings makes you forget the pain of defeat, doesn't it?"

"Hey now, just looking isn't fair. Unlike me, you must have money to spare. Go on, buy one."

"Listen to them talking. Even I don't have much... This painting isn't for sale. These works aren't being sold. Look—there's no price tag attached, see?"

"Well now, if you'd truly like one, we could arrange a sale... We do know the prices here..."

At that moment, a figure appeared. A man whose head resembled a pumpkin overgrown with wild hair, with clear, beautiful eyes—it was Painter Inuyama Nekosuke. This was Painter Inuyama himself—the very one who had painted these works.

“No, there’s no need for you to tell me the price today.”
“I’m sorry.”

The two customers, replaced by a new group clattering up from behind, went back downstairs laughing.

As this account makes clear, Gen'ichi had invited Painter Inuyama to this One-Tsubo Hall.
The painter and his wife were overjoyed.
Because Gen'ichi had lent them a splendid exhibition hall they could never have dreamed of, their joy soared to the heavens.

The second floor was fine as it was, but the third floor posed a problem.

The benefactor who built this One-Tsubo Hall, Major Hei, was a tall man measuring six shaku in stature.
The Major brought a hammock to the third floor and hung it diagonally.
Major Hei would occasionally come and sleep on it.
The Major had to adopt an extremely cramped sleeping position.
Since it was One-Tsubo Hall, both its height and width measured six shaku, but those were the exterior dimensions of the structure.
Because of the thick walls, the interior dimensions shrink when entering.

But Major Hei didn’t voice a single complaint, whistling a cheerful tune as he rested on the third floor.

Architectural Competition

“Even One-Tsubo Hall has three stories and a basement.”
“We cannot just sit around either.”

Spurred by the construction of One-Tsubo Hall, the merchants around Ginza also began new construction, having felt their previous single- and two-story buildings were inadequate—tearing down their existing shops entirely to start afresh.
And this time, three-story buildings became decidedly more common.

Of course, the attire of people walking through Ginza had also improved significantly.
People wearing gaiters and combat caps like in the old days could no longer be seen anywhere.
Monpe work pants had vanished from sight.
Women walked in skirts.
The creases in the men’s trousers were sharply pressed, and their shoes were polished to a shine.
They were worn-out shoes that had been repaired in various places, though...

The era was shifting swiftly indeed. With peace having arrived, people now advanced along the path of culture with peace of mind. And the Ginza area became beautiful before anywhere else, transformed into something splendid, and then an eye-catching marvel appeared.

When walking through Ginza, dust no longer clung to one's shoes. Even if someone polished their shoes at 1-chome and walked around Ginza 8-chome twice in circles, the shoes would still gleam brightly. The light of culture had finally begun to shine from Ginza.
"Hmm, it's stopped catching people's eyes."
"This way, there's no helping it."

Gen’ichi stood across from One-Tsubo Hall, gazing at it while heaving a deep sigh.

When first built, One-Tsubo Hall had been an exceptionally tall three-story structure that towered over its surroundings, but now that considerably splendid buildings had risen all around, it appeared to shrink low with its head bowed.

Major Hei had returned to America for official communications and was absent at that time.

“What should we do about this, Mr. Inuyama?”

Gen'ichi consulted Painter Inuyama, since there was no one else to turn to.

“There’s no need to worry. Good fortune will come your way before long.”

The painter said with a comforting expression.
But the painter realized that whatever one might build, the foremost requirements were funds and materials—and both Gen’ichi and he himself had sadly thought they were men with scant connections in such matters.

Four or five days later, an old woman was standing in front of the store, peering intently inside, when Gen’ichi came up from the basement and suddenly found himself face to face with her.
Gen'ichi gasped in surprise.

“Oh! Isn’t that Madam Yaguchi?”
“It’s me, Gen’ichi!”

“Oh my...”
The old woman also widened her eyes in surprise,

“So it was true after all. Gendon, you’d really gone and set up shop here for me after all,” she said through tears of joy.

A Sudden Brilliant Idea

The old woman whom Gen'ichi had welcomed with tears of joy was none other than Madam Yaguchi of the Yaguchi household—the very one who had transferred this one-tsubo shop to Gen'ichi and left Tokyo.
Before it burned down，Madam Yaguchi had been running a tobacco shop here．

“Madam．Why have you come back？ Weren’t you supposed to be in Karafuto？”

“No，Gen-don．I fell ill along the way，so I couldn’t make it to Karafuto and ended up staying at my sister’s place in Sendai until now．”

“Well, that actually turned out for the best, didn’t it? So, hasn’t it healed yet?”

“It’s already healed. Since I’ve been healthy enough to work these days, I’m perfectly fine. Not only that, but after my sister’s husband convinced me to buy a mountain—since it turned out to be cement material—I ended up making a killing! I’m anything but a patient now!”

“Wow, that’s really something. Then I’ll return this shop to you, Madam.”

Gen'ichi said this having made a snap decision.

“Wh-what’re you suggesting? Didn’t I clean give this shop to Gen-don? Taking it back? I don’t have such a petty notion! But more than that, Gen-don—the reason I’ve come back to Tokyo this time is partly to see how this shop’s been keeping, and partly because I wanted to start a business fit for the new era here in Tokyo again. That’s why I came back, see. I’ve got two or three million yen if it’s money you need, and cement enough to bury Ginza if that’s what’s wanted—but haven’t you any good business notions, Gen-don?”

“Ha ha ha! This is something else.” Gen’ichi scratched his head. “Still no match for Madam Yaguchi’s business sense, huh?”

“About that new business idea—actually, I’ve been considering something myself. Won’t you join me in this venture?”

“What sort of work are you planning…”

“I want to rebuild this One-Tsubo Hall and make it taller. Ten or twenty stories high. We’ll open all kinds of delightful shops on each floor. What do you think? Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

“But are you sure? Can we really build such a spindly tall building that looks like a chimney?”

“It will definitely work out. There’s no problem.”
“Just wait until the twenty-story One-Tsubo Hall is built.”
“It will become Ginza’s new attraction.”
“What do you think?”
“Why don’t we do this together?”

“It does sound interesting—but wouldn’t it get blown away if a typhoon came? I’m worried.”

“It should hold fine,” she replied firmly.
“I’ll make certain to investigate this thoroughly.”

Gen’ichi resolved to consult Major Hei upon his return to Japan—the major being versed in architectural engineering after all.

“Though considering it’s merely one tsubo,” Madam countered skeptically,
“even twenty floors wouldn’t amount to meaningful space.”

Her focus seemed gradually shifting toward Gen’ichi’s proposal nonetheless.

A Grand Proposition

The idea to make One-Tsubo Hall ten or twenty stories high was a plan Gen’ichi had suddenly conceived while talking with Madam Yaguchi.

Yet Gen’ichi found himself thoroughly enamored with this brainchild of his.
After all, Ginza at that time had no twenty-story buildings whatsoever.
He imagined that constructing such a high-rise structure—even on just one tsubo—and gazing down from its summit would prove tremendously exhilarating.
I absolutely must build this.

But was there really no way to devise some method for increasing the shop's size? If only the shop had at least four tsubo of space—one could scarcely imagine how convenient that would be. Thinking that perhaps the neighbors might be willing to sell their land, he decided to test this idea and immediately went around making inquiries.

“Out of the question! We absolutely have no intention of selling our land plot. Instead of that, why don’t you sell your land plot to us? We’ll pay top yen for it!”

Both the houses on either side and the one at the back all gave similar replies. Far from being willing to sell, they instead expressed a desire to purchase One-Tsubo Hall’s land plot. Some even immediately proposed the amount of 10,000 yen.

Under these circumstances, even Gen'ichi’s hope was doomed.

“Gen-don, I’ve come back.”
“I arrived in Tokyo this morning.”
“Gen-don, are you still in good health?”

Major Hei thrust his ruddy face into the shop.

“Oh, you’re back. I’ve been waiting for you!”

Gen’ichi leaped toward Major Hei and grasped his hand to shake it.

“Well now, a present for Gen-don.”
“You’ll like this book.”

As he spoke, Major Hei handed Gen’ichi an American edition of an impressive large-format volume.

“It’s an English book, isn’t it?”
“I’m ashamed to admit I can’t read English at all.”

“No need to worry.”
“Open the book and look.”

Gen’ichi did exactly as the major instructed.
Every page showed architectural diagrams and blueprints.
It was a magnificent art-quality collection of architectural designs.

“I see.”
“I can understand these diagrams.”

“Now, look at this.”
“Hahahaha.”

The four-hundred-page book contained various types of modern architectural structures.
Gen'ichi forgot even the Major standing beside him and began examining each page with fervor.

“This is interesting.
“Can things like this really be done?
“Hey, Major Hei.”

The blueprint Gen’ichi extended toward the Major showed a tower-shaped building that narrowed at the base and gradually widened upward.

“It can be done,” Major Hei explained. “We assemble iron beams and extend them horizontally. Many iron bridges and radio station towers use this method.” His finger tapped the open page. “See? It’s illustrated right here.”

Gen’ichi’s eyes lit up. “Let’s build One-Tsubo Hall like this!”

Gen'ichi grasped a hint.

Skyscraper

Gen'ichi consulted Major Hei and decided to build a twelve-story One-Tsubo Hall in the cantilevered style.

While up to the tenth floor each occupied one tsubo, the eleventh and twelfth floors extended horizontally.
To support this extension, steel beams (large brackets) were extended diagonally upward from around the eighth and ninth floors, with support provided from below.
It was truly a brilliant idea.

Through this structure, the eleventh and twelfth floors became about three times as spacious as the other floors.
With this arrangement, they could display quite a number of goods.
Gen'ichi was delighted that he could even prepare a spacious bed for Major Hei.

Major Hei once again lent his strength to Gen'ichi in various ways.

Madam Yaguchi, of course, enthusiastically poured in cement and money.

Thus did the new One-Tsubo Hall become a twelve-story skyscraper and present itself to the people passing through Ginza.

“Wow! They’ve built an incredible structure.”
“Just how many floors does it have?”

“The above-ground part has twelve floors, they say.”
“With five basement levels included, that makes seventeen total.”

“Amazing, simply amazing!”
“There used to be a twelve-story tower in Asakusa back in the day, but this here’s a modern twelve-story marvel.”
“Still looks risky though – too top-heavy if you ask me.”

“But they say its stability and structural integrity are solid.”
“All the proper tests were done – certified safe through and through.”

“You sure know your stuff.”

“I climbed up there yesterday.”
“On the twelfth floor, there are certificates and blueprints for what I was talking about on display.”
“Why don’t you try climbing to the top yourself?”

“Is it really okay to go up?”

“Sure thing. Every floor’s all shops. However, only the twelfth floor’s being used as an exhibition space right now.”

“I see. Then let’s go up now. If we don’t climb up quickly, we’ll fall behind the times.”

The twelve-story One-Tsubo Hall instantly became the talk of Tokyo. Therefore, the shops on each floor kept selling nonstop, everyone beaming with satisfaction.

When it came to Gen'ichi, the owner of this building, he continued smiling all day long like the god of good fortune.

Inuyama the painter was also delighted, but there was a commotion over the mounting of commissioned paintings not being ready in time.

Madam Yaguchi, having been persistently persuaded by Gen’ichi, reopened a tobacco shop on the first floor.
However, as the tobacco quickly sold out, she opened a magazine and book shop.

Gen'ichi's flower shop moved to the eleventh floor.

“Gendon. One-Tsubo Hall has become splendid. Are you satisfied now?”

One day, Major Hei came visiting and asked Gen'ichi with a laugh.

Then Gen'ichi shook his head.

“I’m still not satisfied,”
“I want to build something bigger still.”

“Whew!”
Major Hei whistled in exaggerated surprise.

“You really think you can build something bigger than this?”

Twenty years later

“Major Hei, I’ve drawn up my dream here as blueprints. Please look at this.”

Gen’ichi spread out the blueprint before Major Hei as he said this.

“Ha ha ha! What on earth is this?”

Major Hei, who was usually composed, became terribly surprised and shook his head before the blueprint.

That was only natural.
The blueprint depicted a massive airfield.

However, this airfield wasn’t built on solid ground—it was elevated.
In other words, beneath the airfield lay a modern city lined with large buildings.
The airfield was elevated and, according to Gen'ichi’s blueprint, supported by 144 pillars.

The pillars stood approximately fifty meters tall and were interconnected in a framework using beams.
On top of those 144 pillars rested a flat airfield.
Of course, iron plates were laid over the iron framework, with runway pavement materials smoothly spread on top.

Also drawn on the blueprint were several airplanes with their wings at rest.
They were all helicopters.
In other words, for Gin-bura, people would ride helicopters to this airfield to land, then descend below to enjoy their Gin-bura.

“Ah, I see. The single pillar visible here is One-Tsubo Hall.”
“That’s right.”

Major Hei pressed a single pillar with his thick finger.

“That’s correct.
Please take a closer look.
One-Tsubo Hall and a neon sign are there, you see?”

“Ha ha ha! How amusing.
Even with such a huge airfield being carried on top, One-Tsubo Hall still remains, doesn’t it?”

“Absolutely. I’ll show everyone this One-Tsubo Hall and then construct 143 more.
And then on top of that, I’ll build an airfield in this manner.”

“That’s a splendid idea.”

“If this turns a profit, next I want to expand the airfield even more so large passenger planes can take off and land. By that time, Ginza of course – from Kobikicho all the way to Akashicho – should end up entirely beneath the airfield. How about it? Interesting, don’t you think, Major Hei?”

“Won’t the people in the buildings below get angry? They might say sunlight doesn’t come in anymore because someone built an airfield above their heads.”

“By that time, buildings will have adopted an American style, becoming entirely windowless, so I don’t think there will be any need to worry about sunlight.”

“I see. Then what will you do if the buildings below say they’ll build a taller structure than the airfield and come threatening to punch holes through it?”

“Well, when that time comes, we’ll have you come again, Major Hei, and have you skillfully persuade them.”
“Ha ha ha!”

“Oh my, you still intend to use me, do you? When on earth will this blueprint actually become reality, I wonder?”

“Well, in about twenty years, I suppose.”

“Twenty years, huh. Very well. In twenty years, I will come flying to Gen-don’s place without fail. Ha ha ha!”

Major Hei and Gen'ichi laughed merrily.