Pathway to Japanese Literature

Shiitake and Eloquence

The stage used a plain black curtain as its consistent backdrop, with minimal props arranged suggestively to define the characters' movements.

Scene transitions employed blackouts, with no alterations made to the set, thereby avoiding meaningless temporal disjunctions.

Fantastical accompaniment music may be used.

The characters’ costumes should be as stylized as possible.

Act 1, Scene 1

The president's office of Showa Agricultural Industries.

Akahara enters deep in thought.
He paces around the room.

Akahara: We've got to change every last method!
Politics and education—up until now, it’s as if they’ve been doing everything completely backwards.
Business is the same way—if you only think about immediate profits, what can you actually achieve?
However,the problem is when the opportunity to lose in order to gain will come.
Loss here,gain over there doesn't help a damn thing.
Showa Agricultural Industries was founded twenty years ago—and I'll be fifty-nine next year.
This isn't the age to carelessly wear down shoe heels.
Though my city council election dream remains unfulfilled,having resolved to become local industry's foundation stone,I must decide:pursue prestige or actual results?
If achieving both proves impossible,might we humbly prioritize substance over reputation?
No—that'd just maintain stagnant traditions unchanged.
Now regarding reforms—first comes staff reduction.
They've collected nothing but human dregs.
Production costs climb.
Sales channels get blocked.
Office efficiency crashes chaotically.
With this,could deficits not arise?
Compounding matters—ballooning entertainment expenses.
Henceforth,I'll absolutely cease groveling deals.

I'll conduct business negotiations over a single cup of tea.
The opinion from a certain quarter that there's no need to serve tea each and every time in the office was indeed perfectly sound.

“Hey! Production Manager! Sales Manager! Come here this instant.”

Noromi and Nabeta entered.

Akahara: “Fundamentally, you all lack the concept of treating shiitake fungus as living organisms.
What do you think defines a living organism?
Nabeta!”

Nabeta: “Would it be the need for nutrients?”

Akahara: “That’s obvious.
They propagate naturally.
They multiply on their own, you see.
Do you understand?
That’s one.”

Nabeta: “I see.”

Akahara: “And the next one?
Noromi!”

Noromi: “Well, there’s also the aspect of sensing something, I suppose.”

Akahara: “That’s not it. It’s that when they die, it’s over. Understand? If you kill them, you lose everything.”

Noromi: “I completely agree…”

Akahara: “That’s precisely what I’ve been telling you!”
“Do any of you actually understand anything?”
“Huh? Isn’t that right?”
“Why do we even cultivate shiitake fungus?”
“The proper storage conditions for cultured mycelium and essential shipping precautions—these are basic principles every single employee should know!”
“Our patented Wedge Method—”
“—makes handling a hundred times simpler than that damned sawdust technique!”
“So what’s the result?”
“You’ve all heard the complaints—our mycelium spreads slower in logs than theirs!”
“I’ll ask again: Is Production giving its all to improve these fungal strains?”

Nabeta: “President, I fully understand your words, but it’s just that... given our current factory facilities and research budget...”

Akahara: “What are you saying? Are you claiming good products can be made just by throwing money at it? Huh? So you think no one better than you would come for the same salary?”

Noromi: “I certainly don’t think it’s a matter of money, but President—the greatest obstacle to this venture lies in the short-term stubbornness of this region’s farmers. They argue shiitake grows naturally in the mountains, so why pour effort and funds into cultivation if it barely turns a profit? They’re backing off entirely. As for why the sawdust method spread instead of ours—I believe our rivals first targeted local powerholders directly. Hence those massive orders of ten thousand to twenty thousand logs under individual names.”

“Hold it,” Akahara cut in. “That’s exactly why we’re taking the opposite approach—positioning this as a small-scale side job for ordinary farmers. Something anyone can manage for pocket money and a bit of fun.”
“Of course, we can’t let our existing bulk orders slip away.”
“But when it comes to new markets to develop, it’s got to be the farming masses.”
“Take this prefecture’s sixty-seven thousand farm households—you! Try succeeding at selling a hundred logs to each one every year.”

Noromi: “That’s an astronomical figure.”

Akahara: “Exactly! See? When you’re busy serving tea and plucking nose hairs all day, nothing gets done!”

Noromi: “The nose hairs aside—President—we’ll face problems unless you properly consider that aspect too. Prefectural assembly members and Agriculture Ministry section chiefs are one thing... But spending ten thousand yen on PR campaigns for sectors completely unrelated to our core business...”

Akahara: “Silence.”
“The company’s high-level policies are not something a mere employee like you should meddle in.”

The young male receptionist entered.

Receptionist: “President, a visitor is here to see you.”
(Presents a business card.)

Akahara: “Hmm, a name I’ve never heard before.”
“Did you ask what their business is?”

The receptionist said, “Ah, regarding the shiitake mushroom cultivation business—he states that he would very much like to hear your opinion, President.”

Akahara: “Although I am extremely busy, since he’s gone to the trouble, tell him I’ll meet him for about five minutes.”
“You need not serve tea until I say to do so.”

The receptionist man left.

Nabeta: "Then I'll give it some thought."

Akahara: "Ah, think about it..."
"Huh?"
"What are you thinking about?"

Nabeta: "Whether we can continue operating this way or not."

Akahara: "Hmm, that's something we need to consider here, but well, I'll hear your thoughts first."

As Nabeta left, the man with tinted glasses hesitantly entered.

“Now, please…”
“I’ll hear your account briefly.”

“As my card states, I research edible mushrooms. Recently I’ve focused on shiitake—expanding into their history, global distribution, and flavor analysis through testing. But well… sufficient financial resources elude me.”

“In this age, who possesses ‘sufficient financial resources’?”

“No—what I meant to say is that before even financial resources, I have to worry about living expenses. So that’s when I came up with this idea.”

Akahara: “Hold on… We’ll get to that idea later—first, what exactly do you do now? What’s your current occupation?”

The Lecturer: “Up to now, I’ve been a schoolteacher… written biographies like one about a mine owner’s predecessor…”

Akahara: Fine.
"So how does your future work relate to shiitake mushrooms?"
"Ah—so you mean to try cultivating them yourself?"

The Lecturer: "Not at all."
"That level of interest escapes me."
"I don’t mind traveling, and if I may boast—public speaking happens to be my forte."
"So I thought of touring this region under the banner of lecture tours—but then came the question: What should I speak about?"
"Ideological topics aren’t entirely beyond my reach."
"But for an immediately universal subject—something anyone would bite at—it inevitably circles back to personal economics; in short, profitable schemes."
"Thus I resolved to deliver lectures promoting shiitake cultivation—a venture that would leverage my research, aid rural revitalization, and at least secure me daily bed and board along the way."

Akahara: “I see. You’d do well to set your lecture fees properly from the start. But when it comes to shiitake cultivation—book knowledge alone won’t steady your hand. Do you have any real experience? I assume you’re at least aware that the wedge method handles better for amateurs and fails less than sawdust.”

The Lecturer: “Hmm… First I’ve heard of that. My plan’s to recommend the sawdust method overall. Your company handles both, I presume?”

Akahara: “Nonsense! It doesn’t matter either way. However, based on our experience, the sawdust method is all theory—its actual results can’t hold a candle to the wedge method.”

The Lecturer: “As a scholar through and through, I intend to speak impartially from a purely theoretical standpoint. I’ll thoroughly review all reference materials too, but I don’t wish to promote specific shiitake strains from a commercial standpoint. That might happen circumstantially, but it’s better not to do it consciously or blatantly. Just one thing—I’d like some assistance for this work of mine, purely from the national enterprise perspective of export industries. Frankly, it’d suit me best if you could unconditionally provide travel funds that let me move freely.”

Akahara: “Your moral justification is perfectly clear, and there’s no reason to voice opposition in a word. But if that’s the case, you ought rather to take this matter up with the prefectural authorities.”

The Lecturer: “Is it truly impossible? Then what if I were to take full charge of your company’s promotions and, when needed, put effort into selling fungal strains as part of the deal?”

Akahara: “If we could afford that kind of expense, we would’ve done it by now. Moreover, I regard such methods as not very effective. In other words, just getting people motivated to try growing shiitake won’t amount to anything. Continuing to do it is what’s crucial. For that, seeing even a single person achieve success—that’s the best advertisement there is. To secure that one person, we’re going through hell. Well, that’s enough. The exit is this way…”

The Lecturer: “Thank you for your time. However, someday I fully intend to present results that will bring you satisfaction as well.”

Akahara: “Now, now—rather than concerning yourself with our affairs, you should make your own circumstances your primary focus.”

The Lecturer exited.

Noromi: “He’s quite a piece of work.”
“Gathering people with talks about shiitake mushrooms is reportedly difficult even when sponsored by the Ministry of Agriculture, so…”

Akahara: “School teachers—they all think people should pay money just to hear them talk.”

Noromi: “However, President—there’s something that’s been on my mind since earlier—if that lecturer realizes he can’t get anywhere here, won’t he go to Toa Industries and say the same things all over again? President Aogasaki has something of a bold streak and—if I may say so—is more tactful than our President here.”

Akahara: “What possible tactic works for that windblown charlatan except driving him out?”

Noromi: “But if he goes to them and they point out flaws in the wedge method...”
“If they start crowing about their precious sawdust technique, what then?”
“I nearly spoke up myself back there.”
“You gave him a firm warning, President, but that half-measure leaves us exposed.”
“Why didn’t you lay out—concretely, meticulously—the wedge method’s unshakable merits versus the sawdust method’s theory-practice gap? That’s where your approach stays too vague.”

Akahara: “That loofah husk wouldn’t grasp a word you said.”
“Let him go if he wants.”
“How much would they pay for that sawdust method—a weasel’s trick?”
“At best, they’ll toss him cigarette money.”
“Once he tastes easy cash, he’ll keep coming.”
“President Sawdust will rot from cancer in the end.”
“Just watch—staying calm will pay off better.”
“Ah—forgot.”
“Time to attend my wife’s surgery.”
“Call me a cab.”
“No—walking’s faster.”

Noromi: “Umm… your wife—which wife are we talking about here?”
Akahara: “Shut up.”
“The one who looks like a shiitake.”

The two men exit.

Act 1, Scene 2

Inside the factory.

The man with tinted glasses appeared alongside Aogasaki, president of Toa Industries.

“Aogasaki, I’ve largely grasped your position.”
“Now then—please inspect my factory.”
“Any specialist would immediately recognize that cultivating premium mycelium demands modern facilities of this scale.”
“While sawdust’s wood composition naturally restricts us to broadleaf varieties, complete sterilization remains our foremost challenge.”
“Our company’s sawdust-method fungal strains were researched entirely under accredited authorities from inception—rendering them fundamentally different from those irresponsible primitive techniques of old.”

The Lecturer: “Indeed, seeing facilities like these puts my mind at ease.”
“After all, when enlightening farmers, I believe it’s far more effective to present concrete economic figures and explain profits in clear terms rather than appealing to scientific interest.”
“I’ve read a few experts’ books, but scholars in agriculture are utterly ignorant of farmers’ habits and psychology.”
“Therefore, no matter how much you promote shiitake mushrooms as a profitable side job, as long as you miscalculate their intelligence and motivation—what they’re actually capable of—it’ll all be for nothing.”
“From my somewhat limited experience interacting with farmers, I’ve devised a highly practical way of structuring my talks—one that immediately resonates with people’s personal concerns.”

Aogasaki: “An astute observation.”
“Please make every effort to elevate this prefecture to the top of shiitake production.”
“Shiitake mushrooms have already moved beyond being mere ventures for certain profit-seeking enterprises.”
“While government authorities have lately awakened considerably to calls for export promotion, their bureaucrats’ grand pronouncements only yield temporary results.”
“We businesses approach our advertising with a certain degree of seriousness, but to be frank—even when we identify effective promotional methods through our sales channels—achieving balanced management through them proves utterly impossible. This is precisely where our dilemma lies.”
“The emergence of a philanthropist like yourself is an auspicious sign for which the shiitake industry should be grateful.”
“May I ask your age, if you’ll pardon the impertinence?”

“I’ve turned thirty-two.”

Aogasaki: “And your family?”

The Lecturer: “I’ve only just taken a wife.”
Suddenly, the two men’s mouths seemed to go dry.

Aogasaki: “You jest.”
“Truly good work can’t be done by relying on someone else’s loincloth.”
“A phrase like ‘staking one’s personal fortune’ must never be employed for profit-driven ventures.”

“If only there were transportation costs that would let me move about freely…”

Aogasaki: “Honestly, these days one can’t even afford to casually take a train.”
“We’ve significantly tightened restrictions on employee business trips starting this fiscal year.”

The Lecturer: “As for lecture fees, I can hardly demand payment myself…”

Aogasaki: “Take whatever they offer in full.”

The Lecturer: “Even if I travel on my own dime…”

Aogasaki: “That’s certainly true… Lodging fees aren’t negligible either.”
“The organizers will certainly handle those concerns somehow…”

The Lecturer: “As a precaution against contingencies, at least some...”

Aogasaki: “Most kind, most kind… But even in the countryside, one mustn’t let their guard down while traveling. While I was engrossed in conversation at a village cooperative, someone made off with my shoes and raincoat. Your valuables must always be divided between two separate places…”

The Lecturer: “That may be so, but couldn’t we manage one of those two divided portions here?”

Aogasaki: “To be clear, my company’s external relations are managed by qualified personnel, so I see no need to extend our involvement further. From our earlier conversation, I’ve determined your experience with shiitake mushrooms remains somewhat lacking. We have more than enough cultivation instructors—from agricultural Ph.D.s at the top to technicians honed through practical experience. Well, there are one or two other companies in this industry, so it makes no difference which you visit. Then, I’ll see you to the entrance. Careful—don’t touch the machinery…”

Act 2, Scene 1

Before the man with tinted glasses, seven or eight men gathered.
All were middle-aged or older, mountain village residents wearing varied clothing.

“If I may ask,” Kama began, “I’ve been trying my hand at shiitake these past five or six years now, but the results never match what they claim they should.”
“I’ve tried all sorts of tweaks, but I keep thinking maybe the spawn itself is no good.”

The Lecturer adjusted his tinted glasses. “What cultivation method are you using for the spawn?”

“Don’t know any fancy names,” Kama grumbled. “Just bought whatever my buddies were buying.”

Kin scratched his stubble. “Same as mine, so that’d be the wedge method.” His calloused finger jabbed the air. “But from your talk earlier—sounds like there’s another way out there called the sawdust method. What’s that about?”
“Wouldn’t that one work better?”

“Well, as for that point, I can’t really say either way,” said the Lecturer. “Each has its own characteristics and flaws, being influenced by various conditions. There’s no approach except for all of you to fully digest this land’s nature and inoculation techniques, then work toward bringing things to the most suitable state.” He adjusted his tinted glasses. “What I’ve shown are calculations indicating that whichever current fungal strain you use, profits should at least reach this baseline.”

“I’ve also been thinking for a while now that I’d like to try growing shiitake mushrooms, but…”
“In this area, indeed, they still haven’t cultivated much at all.”
“They haven’t heard any success stories either.”
“But I think you can see it’s a fairly viable business depending on the method—after all, such ventures have taken root in other regions.”
“So unlike the folks here who’d say ‘Just go for it since it’s fine!’, I’m not about to immediately jump into it.”
“Take up the abacus properly—calculate the required land area, the mushroom cultivation log costs, labor fees, fungal strain and inoculation tool expenses, tally all that up. Then compare the shiitake’s average yield with market prices, and only when it all adds up would I be ready to take action.”

“Now then, when it comes to shiitake mushroom yields, I just can’t get a clear estimate.”
“This summer, there was what they called a workshop in town. When I went, some prefectural technician or the like presented several examples he’d studied from actual cultivators, then wrote down an average figure for shiitake yields on the blackboard.”
“However, just now—there’s a considerable gap from the figures you quoted.”
“I believe my ears are reliable, but didn’t you say fresh shiitake mushrooms yield ten percent of the cultivation log’s weight as the total harvest over six years?”

“I did indeed say that.”

“But according to what I heard this summer, you get a hundred momme of fresh shiitake per kan of cultivation logs in one year—meaning your six-year yield comes out in just one!”
“Well, who knows what’s true? If we go by ten percent over six years, your abacus doesn’t balance.”
“A thousand kan of logs barely makes ten thousand yen a year.”
“By your numbers, subtract costs and there’s no profit left.”
“Around here, even with low cost estimates, we can’t waste effort on such work.”

Nobu: “That’s right.”
“I’ve been hearing and seeing things here and there, but this lecturer’s story sure seems fishy.”

Den: “What the hell, you bastards.”
“Hey, what’s so fishy about that?”
“It’s what a properly educated person says.”
“When someone’s teaching you the unerring truth right here, you bastards go listening with your greed all puffed up—so when you see there’s no meager profit like you imagined, sure enough, you start scowling.”

The Lecturer: “In reality, these ventures often involve exaggerated advertising campaigns that end up hindering their own development. As a farmer’s side job, if you keep capital investments low, it can certainly yield favorable returns. Let’s be clear—there’s no such thing as quick-and-dirty profits in agricultural work.”

Kin: “A farmer’s true capital is sweat equity. All this fuss about ‘maintain this temperature’ and ‘adjust that humidity’—that kind of precision work will dizzy you unless you make it your sole occupation.”

The Lecturer: “That itself is the root cause of rural backwardness.”
“You work your bodies from morning till night yet life never gets easier because you let some part of yourselves stay idle.”
“In other words, it becomes a logic where you appear diligent on the surface but are actually indulging in idleness.”

Kin: “That’s a tale I’ve heard often—you’re saying farmers don’t use their heads, eh?”
“Then what other business out there makes balanced use of both body and mind?”
“To put it bluntly—what about you?”
“You may craft your elaborate arguments, but once learned, aren’t you just repeating the same things a million times over?”

Den: “Hey, hey, ain’t you gonna quit it already? This Lecturer ain’t come here to pick a fight with you lot.”

Kin: "Then what did you come here for?"

Nobu: "That's what I don't understand either."

Sata: "It's about rapid cultivation methods for shiitake mushrooms and their profit margins. I've washed my hands of shiitake."

Den: "What's your take on this, Mr. Lecturer? Let's all have an honest talk about where you'll be staying tonight... Truth is, folks—y'all know my place is packed with brats. No decent spot for proper sleep..."

“Folks, I haven’t finished chopping firewood yet, so I’ll be excusing myself first.”

(Exits.)

Nobu: Oh no.
I’d left the goat out and completely forgotten about it.
(Exits.)

Kin: My old lady’s gone a bit off her rocker—when she sees a guest, she comes at ’em with a sickle.

(Exits.)

Gen: “Tonight, I’ll just take care of the lice…”
He walked around on the tatami mats making rustling noises…
(Exits slowly.)

Iga: “Just when I thought my mother’s asthma had gotten worse, now my daughter-in-law’s gone into labor. Good grief—can’t catch a moment’s rest around here.”
(Exits slowly.)

Kama: “Well, I wonder what tomorrow’s weather’ll be like.”
(Attempts to exit.)

Den: “I’ll handle worrying about the weather, so you host Mr. Lecturer at your house.”

Kama: My house?
"But my house—it's just me and my wife—we've only got two futon sets."

Den: You bastard—if even you're okay with it，get someone to fix up a room.

Kama: A room，huh?
"Well，no need to push it．Why don't you take Mr．Lecturer to Tsunoya Inn yourself?"
Darn it，they told me not to stay out late...
(Exits.)

“In that case, Mr. Lecturer,” said Den. “Well, seein’ as how things stand, please just... manage somehow for tonight…”

The Lecturer: “Make do? You’re leaving me here alone…?”

Den: “It’s tough bein’ alone, ain’t it? If you like, there’s really no need to hold back—why don’t you get a room at an inn? Depending on how you negotiate, they can make it cheaper. Well then, take your time restin’.”

Den exited.

The Lecturer collapsed onto his side.

Act II, Scene II

Noromi and Abuta entered, guided by a pale-faced police officer.

Noromi: “Phew, phew—we made it in time.”
“Thank you very much.”
“I was worried what might happen if we’d lost him here.”

Police Officer: “Shall we settle this matter here?”
“If you’re cold without a fire, you’re welcome at the station.”

Noromi: “No, I don’t believe we’ll need to trouble you. But as a formality, would you kindly observe our discussion?”

Police Officer: (shaking the tinted glasses) “You there—this gentleman wants a word with you.”

The Lecturer: (sitting up) “First time I’ve seen a place like this.”
“Not one person lifted a finger to help—astonishing.”

Noromi: “Do you recall me?”

The Lecturer: “Ah… Toa Industries’—”

Noromi: “No—Noromi, Sales Manager at Showa Agricultural Industries.”
“This is Abuta, handling publicity under my direction.”

The Lecturer: “What is this about?”

Noromi: “Actually, under the president’s orders, I came here determined to meet you and discuss various matters—but given your considerable activities since then…”

The Lecturer: “I’ve been steadily working on it.”
The Lecturer: “I’ve been keenly feeling the gravity and difficulty of my mission.”

Noromi: “Quite right.”
Noromi: “So let’s get straight to it—it’s been over a month since then, but I’ll have you know the company has been quietly taking an interest in your work.”
Noromi: “We’ve been keeping close tabs on the reactions too—but recently, certain points have emerged that strike us as rather questionable…”

The Lecturer: “Is this about my lecture content?”

Abuta: “I believe so, but… Are you actually encouraging shiitake cultivation, or are you sabotaging it? Of course, I mean in terms of results—I can’t help feeling there’s something unclear about it all…”

The Lecturer: “So my lectures’ effectiveness is considered inadequate from your corporate perspective? Ha! You can’t expect visible results overnight, you know. Let me make this clear—while I do advocate shiitake cultivation’s benefits, I absolutely refuse to peddle any single company’s propaganda.”

Noromi: “I am already well aware of that.”
“However, in every region where your lectures have been held, the shiitake fever has been cooling off as if by prior agreement.”

The tinted glasses may indeed have such an aspect.
After all, there must be some temporary backlash from exaggerated advertising.
It's not my responsibility.

Abuta: “Even if we tentatively accept that premise—”
“For instance, even taking a specific region’s case—the numbers you cite in your lectures…”

The Lecturer: “Regarding those numbers—on my scientific honor—there are absolutely no errors.”

Abuta: “But presenting such sloppy figures for the critical average yield—numbers anyone with minimal experience would immediately question—is…”

The Lecturer: “What’s ‘sloppy’?”
“Do you think that brain of yours can actually pinpoint flaws?”

Noromi: “If you say so, then I must respond…”

The Lecturer: “Ah, say whatever you please.
“You see… Fundamentally, this sawdust method is antiquated.”

Noromi: “The sawd… sawdust method, you say…
“I understand. When phrased that way, I’ve no rebuttal.”
“Yet…”

The Lecturer: “However? There’s no ‘however’ here. You see—it’s precisely because you put blind faith in that sawdust method from the outset that even after one or two years, the mycelium still doesn’t fully spread. And on top of that, its resistance to contaminants is pathetically weak—”

Noromi: “No—I understand. We’re fully aware of the sawdust method’s flaws. But the real issue isn’t there—even if we used the wedge method with relatively superior fungal strains, reigniting the cooled-off shiitake cultivation fervor among farmers would be nigh impossible. That’s the crux of it.”

The Lecturer: “The problem is you people rush things.”
“Well, why do you not just be a bit more patient and watch what I am doing?”

Noromi: “The reason I say it cannot proceed that way is that two or three villages which had placed large orders for fungal strains have recently asked to hold off for a while.”
“It was immediately after your lecture.”
“Therefore—and I do apologize for this—after consulting with the president, we have decided to place our trust in your generous goodwill. Going forward, we earnestly request that you exercise appropriate discretion regarding the content of your lectures—specifically, the numbers pertaining to yields—ensuring they are presented in a manner generally acceptable to the public. This is what we have come to urgently discuss with you.”

The Lecturer: “So where exactly are you telling me to make changes?”

Abuta: “It’s difficult to specify precisely how, but at minimum, the figure of ten kan of fresh shiitake per year per hundred kan of cultivation logs must remain fixed—not just for us in the industry, but also for specialists in the field…”

The Lecturer: “Regarding a hundred kan of logs—ten percent yield over six years, totaling ten kan. This is the impartial figure I’ve calculated as an expert.”

Noromi: “That may be so, but if you could just… make some adjustments there…”

The Lecturer: “What exactly am I supposed to do?”

Noromi: “If you could just… add some flexibility…”

The Lecturer: “Shall I present it as ‘limited to the wedge method, annual yields reach up to ten kan per hundred kan of logs’?”

Noromi: “Well, it needn’t be limited to the wedge method, you know…”

Abuta: “Professor, you’re not one to act as a cheerleader for either side on that point…”

The Lecturer: “Shall we proceed with this discussion in a businesslike manner? Then—assuming I were to concede up to a certain point—how precisely would you cooperate with my work? Let’s make that clear.”

Abuta: “Well, as for that matter…”

Noromi: “We are not proposing any concessions or compromises.”

Abuta: “We intend this as a legitimate demand—no, rather, a request—but…”

The Lecturer: “In that case, I too shall refuse to acknowledge any obligation to compromise my own position.”
“I’ve started to get a handle on your tactics.”
“Making people work for free and sucking up all the sweet profits yourselves—is that how it goes?”

Noromi: “That’s outrageous! Since matters have reached this point, I must be frank: regarding the content of your lectures—though this may simply stem from your own misunderstanding—you must clearly correct the inaccuracies we’ve repeatedly brought to your attention, so as not to cause harm to others. If not, then henceforth, you will kindly refrain from all lectures concerning shiitake cultivation, or any similar activities. That, in essence, is our position.”

Abuta: “After all, for us in the industry, this is utterly preposterous—to state it plainly, this amounts to clear-cut obstruction of business—”

Noromi: “Now now—that’s an excessive characterization. While we fully recognize you harbor no such intent whatsoever, in terms of practical outcomes…”

The Lecturer: “Obstruction of business? Very well. I shall battle profit-driven, unscrupulous commercialism to the bitter end! Your methods—preying on farmers’ ignorance, brandishing irresponsible figures, recklessly stoking public greed—are beyond endurance! Yet I maintain full confidence in shiitake cultivation’s profitability and future prospects. Let doubters doubt! Let waverers waver! To be scientific—to be empirical—these truths won’t always ring sweetly in your ears.” His glasses flashed coldly. “For they speak with harshness—the unyielding voice of fact.”

Noromi: “What do the police think about this?”

Police Officer: “I didn’t find anything particularly suspicious, but…”

Abuta: “More importantly, how does the police intend to adjudicate between our legitimate demands and the other party’s dismissive refusal to accept them?”

Police Officer: “I don’t know much about shiitake mushrooms. Just settle it amicably among yourselves, will you?”

The Lecturer: “Exactly—this isn’t a matter requiring police intervention.”
“Even if this were to become a legal matter, witnesses other than authorities on shiitake cultivation would be useless.”
“Authority A and Authority B—well now, when two authorities face off, neither side would be willing to compromise, would they?”

Police Officer: “That’s probably how it is.”

Noromi: “We are fully prepared to substantiate the facts of business obstruction.”

The Lecturer: “Then I’ll expose your fraudulent practices and the facts of your human rights violations against me. The witnesses are right here, as you can see…”

Police Officer: “I can’t say for sure.”
“I don’t know a thing about shiitake mushrooms.”

The Lecturer: “You’ve been listening to this lot’s arguments about restricting my freedom of action all this time, haven’t you?”

Police Officer: “I see—so that’s what this is about… They made their position clear.”

Noromi: “In the event our demands are unreasonable…”
“Ah, very well then…”
“Let’s take this to the proper authorities.”

Police Officer: “So it’s been decided you’ll take this to the proper authorities?”

Noromi: “Depending on developments…we may have no alternative.”

The Lecturer: “What’s the problem? I’ll just present my shiitake cultivation theory properly in court. Even if the judge takes up growing them himself—well now—that’s not my doing.”
“You can handle distributing the spawn.”

Noromi and Abuta whispered furtively to each other.

Noromi: “The discussion has become rather tangled—we truly didn’t intend this outcome.”
“We had hoped you’d graciously accept our unreasonable request first…and then…well…tonight we planned to invite you for a leisurely drink…”

Abuta: “President Akahara also repeatedly instructed us to convey this, but well... we’re still young ones, so…”

The Lecturer: “I understand you’re young, but I can’t exactly claim youth myself.”

Noromi: “Oh, you’ve really struck a nerve there… Well then, let’s just say you’ll kindly overlook our self-serving arguments for now. For tonight, if you’ll pardon the presumption… please accept this…”

“No.”
“No—this isn’t meant to sway you in any way.”
“We could show you to a hot spring nearby, but figured our company might make you feel constrained… This is simply a small token for refreshments…”

The Lecturer: “This poses a problem. To resort to such measures… As I’ve repeatedly stated—” (Accepts it.)

Noromi: “No, no—we thoroughly understand that already. Had the company been slightly more… accommodating, why—managing one or two distinguished lecturers such as yourself—”

The Lecturer (stealthily extracting bills from the envelope): “While I appreciate the gesture—here, I’ll return this to you.”

Noromi: “Huh?”
“N-now, there’s no need to say such things…”

Abuta (pokes Noromi’s elbow)

“I’m in trouble here…”
“But—Professor—”

“You do understand why I’m returning this, don’t you?”

Noromi: “Huh?”
“Well, that’s a bit…”

Abuta: "Hey Manager, I'm fairly certain there's no mistake, but just to be safe, why don't you let me check the contents once?"

Noromi: "Ah, right."
"After all, we're traveling in troubled times."
"I must apologize for the impropriety, but there might just be..."
(Received the ceremonial envelope and made a show of examining its contents.)

The Lecturer: “Well, as long as there’s no discrepancy.”
“I’m methodical—I always provide receipts for monetary exchanges.”
“I’ll send a proper thank-you letter directly to your President stating exact figures. If there were any mismatch in amounts, I thought it might shame you people…”

Noromi: “Damn… No—really, you noticed at the perfect moment.”
This had been the miscalculation of his career.
He’d been certain he wrapped ten thousand properly.
“Hey—when exactly did this get swiped?”

Abuta: “Well, I don’t know about that. Wasn’t it back then?”

Noromi: “Hmm, yeah—it might’ve been back then.”

The Lecturer: “The audacity of leaving precisely two thousand yen out of ten thousand—why, even a pickpocket with seven priors couldn’t pull that off.”

Noromi: “There’s absolutely no room for carelessness or oversight.” (reinserted the bills and handed over the envelope) “This time it’s definitely…”

The Lecturer: “How terribly I’ve troubled you… Oh, will you be alright on your way back? I shall see you off that far. Anyway, I’ll be staying at an inn around here…”

The four exit.

Act 3, Scene 1

The Lecturer addressed the audience from the podium.
The audience remained motionless, like dolls.

The Lecturer: “With this, I have explained the history of shiitake mushrooms, their characteristics as edible fungi, their global distribution and varieties; next, the procedures and methods for how farmers can cultivate them as a side job, process the products, and ship them to markets; and finally, with some detail, I have outlined using numerical data why this constitutes a viable enterprise.”

“Let me reiterate: in the modern era, shiitake mushrooms occupy the throne among edible fungi. Domestic consumption goes without saying, but with the surging overseas demand for Japanese shiitake—beginning with China, followed by America and other advanced nations now racing to plan massive imports—production volumes fall far short of order quantities. Even in major production areas like Shizuoka Prefecture, entire villages devote themselves to rapid shiitake cultivation. To borrow recent newspaper phrasing, an uproar of delighted distress rises everywhere.”

“Now then, to address whether shiitake mushrooms will succeed no matter who cultivates them where, and whether simply increasing quantity guarantees profit—as with any enterprise, the wholesalers won’t play along so smoothly.”

“Out of a hundred people, one or two succeed; seven or eight barely recover their initial investment—the rest become failures, complete failures.”

“The reason for this? Even if one acquires premium fungal strains from reputable companies or testing facilities and executes planting and incubation flawlessly, vulnerabilities inevitably emerge over the following year that others exploit.”

“In short—laziness, carelessness, negligence, impatience—and above all, dull sensitivity to temperature and humidity—these form the fatal cancer of shiitake cultivation.”

“Temperature must stay between 10°C and 18°C; humidity—meaning atmospheric moisture—requires maintaining 65% to 75%. One must train their senses to perfectly time these conditions.”

“Miscalculate temperature and humidity adjustments, and every other effort becomes utterly futile.”

“This mountainous region’s relative aridity means ordinary summer/winter laying methods leave mushroom logs parched—spring and autumn harvests will plummet.”

“Thus you must build storage chambers.”

“Alternatively, prepare underground frames with south-facing shoji panels against winter winds.”

“Furthermore, install pool facilities to replenish log moisture.”

“You may try low-effort conventional methods if you wish—but truthfully? Without these preparations? You’ll never reach target yields.”

“For thoroughness—this addition:”

“Every failure has proportionate causes.”

“This isn’t rare—it’s shiitake cultivation’s great irony: everyone without exception fails through these very causes.”

“Last spring I planted ten thousand logs.”

“Yet before autumn’s promised harvest could show one cap? Over half rotted away.”

“This bitter confession comes from most experienced growers.”

“Given this—you’d show more sense never starting.”

“You may not fully grasp this, but you mustn’t even dream of trying cultivation just because others recommend it.”
“There’s no need whatsoever to test this.”
“Everything’s already been thoroughly examined.”
“Those who can do it can do it—those who can’t simply can’t.”
“This is an indisputable fact.”
“Even if incompetents go through the motions—ordering shiitake spores and arranging logs like toy soldiers—they’ll only breed contamination.”
“Given today’s clear path toward deforestation, you’d show more sense using those logs as firewood.”
“This concludes today’s lecture.”

The audience vanished without a sound.

From among them, an old man—leaning on the shoulders of Nara, Iso, and a young man who had kept his mouth open the entire time—approached the man with tinted glasses.

Old Man: “My hearing’s poor—can’t catch the details—but that was quite a good talk you gave.
“I’ve never heard such a practical talk before.”

Nara: “Anyway, these days you don’t find many who’ll speak this candidly.”
“This should finally make even our village’s shiitake fanatics open their eyes.”

Iso: “If I might ask—does this mean you’ve got to be some sort of exceptional person to grow shiitake?”
“Can’t be lazy or careless.”
“Can’t cut corners or rush things.”
“Can’t miss sensing temperature and humidity just right.”
“Then this… well, it’s way beyond us ordinary folks…”

The Lecturer: “Now now, there’s no need to think it’s quite so difficult. When cultivating shiitake, any number of other flaws pose no issue whatsoever. Take stubbornness, miserliness, jealousy—none of these matter in the slightest. Whether you shirk social obligations or torment the weak…”

Nara: “Or keep bad company with women…”

The Lecturer: “Right.”
“None of that matters.”
“Unless you can feel the temperature and humidity with your skin and confidently gauge them within this range…”

Iso: “Well truth be told, that alone means I’d fail.”
“Good thing I didn’t jump in half-cocked.”

Old Man: “I was reassured that if I just grew shiitake mushrooms, I could easily cover funeral expenses—now I gotta rethink this whole thing.”

Nara: “Gramps, if you’re that grateful, hey, why don’t you let the Lecturer stay at your place tonight?”

Old Man: “Hahaha, don’t be absurd.
I’m already seventy-six now.”

Nara: “So, if you host the Lecturer, you can listen to a more beneficial talk.”

Old Man: “You bet it is.”
“Why should I care about every little thing my son says?”
“The bastard’s fifty years old and still pisses the bed.”
“This brat’s got no business laughing.”

“This ain’t workin’,” Iso said to Nara. “You deal with it at your place.”

Nara: “I’ve got a good idea. Today unfortunately he hasn’t shown his face, but hey—” (whispering) “—how about that guy’s place?”

Iso: “Not bad. If you and I ask together, they won’t refuse.”

Nara: “For one thing, we can have the Lecturer inspect our prized shiitake mushrooms, can’t we?”

The Lecturer: “Ah! In that case, I must see them without fail. Is this person cultivating them extensively?”

Iso: “No—well, it seems they obtained two or three that sprouted from somewhere. They dote on them enough to sleep embracing them.”

Old Man: “Ah.”
“That’s excellent.”
“O-tane’s household?”

The Lecturer: “Is it the old man?”
(Starts walking.)

Iso: “How old do you think she is?”

If it was about caring for young menfolk，there was said to be a sixty-year-old widow who devoted herself wholeheartedly.
From afar，she could pass for twenty.

The Lecturer： “If it’s a ghost，that suits me splendidly.
My nerve happens to be somewhat serviceable...”

All exit.

Act 3, Scene 2

Akahara mutters to himself while pacing around the room.

No matter what, I had no choice but to resort to the last resort. If this couldn’t be resolved legally, there was always the option of intimidation from the outset—but whether he actually feared something like violence remained to be seen. The recent tactics—whether intentional or accidental—appeared to vigorously promote shiitake cultivation on one hand, but in reality, they were achieving entirely the opposite effect. It was infuriating, but I decided to try having a frank discussion with them to see to what extent we could contain this. The extent of the damage would inevitably become clear before long, but whether they would publicly acknowledge it was another matter. Or perhaps that schemer Aogasaki, true to form, might put up a bluff. It wasn’t the time to reveal our weaknesses, but as fellow industry members, they surely wouldn’t object to forming a united front.

Noromi entered, guiding Aogasaki.

Noromi: “I have brought him.”
“Generally speaking, it appears your esteemed company has been gathering information as well…”

Akahara: “Now, now, welcome…”
“I must apologize for summoning you here so formally, but I thought to take this opportunity to arrange a discussion…”

Aogasaki: “My, my—how very kind of you…”
“It’s not that we in the same trade wish to drift apart—but somehow our paths keep diverging…”

Akahara: “Likewise—though we hardly consider you a rival firm—the right opportunity never quite arose…”
“Your progress has been truly impressive.”

Aogasaki: “Not at all…As newcomers fumbling through every task—it’s rather shameful.”
“The wedge method’s foundation remains steadfastly unshaken—as one would expect.”

Akahara: “Thanks to that, our seniority still carries some weight in that regard—but the sawdust method’s encroachment remains a threat to us, at the very least.”
“The momentum of upstarts—you can’t stand against it, as they say.”

Aogasaki: “Hahaha. Now then—about that tinted-glasses situation—what countermeasures does your company intend to implement?”
“On our end, since there appears to be little direct impact thus far, we thought we’d let things take their course for now…”

Akahara: “We too believe settling things there would be ideal—but when assessing the damage’s scope, it’s not the sort that surfaces clearly. Rather, it spreads insidiously, like something welling up from beneath—that’s our analysis.”
“Eradicating the source now strikes us as the prudent course—”

Aogasaki: “So, what steps do you intend to take?”

Akahara: “We’ve formally issued warnings, but they’ve had no effect. We’ve also explored legal action, but according to our legal advisor’s opinion, the evidence of damages is too weak—there’s no decisive legal knockout move available at present.”

Aogasaki: “Compiling the information from my side, we’ve had employees quietly infiltrate his audiences to take notes on his lectures—but from what I can see, he isn’t deliberately using rhetoric that undermines us industry members. However, the problem seems to lie in how he’s making people view shiitake cultivation as something extremely difficult.”

Akahara: “That’s precisely it. At first he gave rather slipshod numerical explanations that dampened people’s interest and cooled their enthusiasm—but now that he’s eased up on that front, he’s shifted to expounding at length about how shiitake cultivation is such a difficult and perilous undertaking, exaggerating every danger.”

Aogasaki: “That tendency does appear to exist.”

Akahara: “Far from it! The effect hits like lightning—we’ve actually had customers cancel orders after attending his lectures.” He grimaced. “You must be seeing the same.”

Aogasaki adjusted his cuffs. “There might be occasional cases, but they’re exceedingly rare. Could there be... other factors at play in your operations?”

Akahara leaned forward. “Are you implying something’s wrong with the wedge method—”

Aogasaki: “Oh no, no—I haven’t gone so far as to say that. You needn’t be so overly sensitive, need you? After all, I don’t believe our steadfast enterprise could be shaken to its core by the mere rhetoric of some lecturer—a professional speaker with no real backing to speak of.”

Akahara: “That may be as you say, but behind those tinted glasses, there seems to be an oddly compelling charm that draws in audiences. In one region, there’s a story about a young woman who caused such a commotion that it became a problem. There’s even the fact that a certain married woman pursued him…”

Aogasaki: “Well, let us acknowledge our differing perspectives here—I shall yield this point to you—but what concrete measures do you propose?”
“Do you possess any viable strategies?”

Akahara: “As for that matter... There remains only one course I can contemplate.”

Aogasaki: “Which would be?”

Akahara: “Complete acquisition.”

Aogasaki: “Acquisition—you mean enticing him through material incentives?”

Akahara: “No—
With cooperation from industry peers, either exile that man to some distant place or prevent him from voicing opinions about shiitake in public altogether—those are our two options.”

Aogasaki: “And do we have the power to enforce that?
Do we possess such power?”

Akahara: “There can be no means other than the power of money.”

Aogasaki: “Make him take the money?
Can money buy freedom?”

Akahara: “It does.
The reason I say this is that his lectures are—rather than being for money—merely a form of livelihood he maintains to make ends meet.”

Aogasaki: "In other words, hush money—compensation for silence?"
"And where would we source this from?"

Akahara: "Couldn't we manage it through the association?"

Aogasaki: "That would fall under your purview as board chairman."
"Must you consult the directors?"

Akahara: "With your esteemed consent as Vice Chairman, we could draw it from the publicity fund."

Aogasaki: "I shan't outright oppose it."
"But isn't this fundamentally a question of scale?"

Akahara (to Noromi): “Hey, shouldn’t he be here by now?”

Noromi: "I believe he’s probably here already."
"I made sure to specify the exact time."
(Exit.)

Aogasaki: “Is that fellow coming here?”

Akahara: “I thought that was appropriate. If I were alone, I’d hate having my intentions scrutinized where there’s no fault. I find it regrettable if my words are perceived as representing my company’s position, so…”

Aogasaki: “Thoroughly prepared—I’m impressed. Let me witness your skill firsthand.”

Akahara: “Make sure to apply a firm glare.”

Led by Noromi, the man in tinted glasses entered with unflappable composure.
He stood before the two men, adopting a somewhat challenging demeanor,

The Lecturer: “I’m humbled you went to such trouble to summon me.
What might this matter of consultation be about?”

Akahara: “Well, please have a seat.
Now then, let’s promptly settle the matter at hand.
Fortunately, Mr. Aogasaki—the most influential figure in our industry—is gracing us with his presence.
I will speak not from my position representing my company, but as Chairman of This Prefecture’s Shiitake Industry Association.
I consider it my professional duty to resolve matters peacefully—ideally amicably. While I acknowledge that you have published your research findings on shiitake and contributed greatly to both the shiitake industry and local rural communities, it is regrettable that your excessive zeal has all too often resulted in encouraging statements producing counterproductive effects.
We, those involved in the shiitake industry, equally regret that your goodwill may end in lamentable consequences for that very reason, and at this juncture propose that you step down from your lecturing activities under appropriate conditions.”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “Do go on.”

Akahara: “That’s all. Now then, let’s proceed calmly with our consultation.”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “It seems you seek my response—is there any error in that?”

Akahara: “None whatsoever.”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “As for that proposal—conditions and all—I must firmly decline.”

Akahara: “You refuse without even hearing the conditions?”

The Lecturer: “Regardless of the conditions—it’s a refusal.”

Akahara: “I can’t quite grasp this.”

The Lecturer: “I’ve grievances of my own to air. What force in existence could possibly halt the work I’ve staked my life upon?!”

Akahara: “Is there truly no other vocation for you?”

The Lecturer: “It would be a comfort if there were. The plain truth is—I’ve lost all courage to sever ties with these twin passions: Eloquence and Shiitake.”

“Show courage.”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “Easier said than done. Do you have the courage to stop peddling shiitake mycelium? How questionable it might be remains a separate matter.”

Akahara: “Setting emotions aside—if I were to answer—there could indeed be circumstances where I’d sell my company at a proper price.”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “In my case, such a thing remains impossible. For me, this work cannot be measured in monetary terms. It’s... shall we say... something akin to my life’s purpose.”

“The matter of consultation is precisely this—how about devoting yourself solely to research for the next six months, while we guarantee your livelihood during that period?”

“There’s no appeal in that whatsoever.”
“Are you truly determined to continue lecturing?”
“Being silenced would be akin to death.”
“Then how about limiting yourself to shiitake history—your supposed expertise—while avoiding cultivation topics?”
“History alone leaves one wanting, wouldn’t you agree?”

Akahara: “Now, it doesn’t have to be limited to just history—botanical research on shiitake mushrooms themselves would also be acceptable. Just that you must refrain from mentioning anything related to cultivation theory or practice…”

The Lecturer: “So merely six months’ living expenses?”

Akahara: “No—depending on your requests, that part could be adjusted…”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “Please stop this haggling. How much can you actually offer?”

Akahara: “Well, on my sole authority, I’m afraid I cannot immediately answer anything beyond that…”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “Let’s call it off.”

Akahara: “I’ll splurge on a full year—how about it?”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “Any number of years works—but what’s the monthly figure?”

Akahara: “Well, there are various factors to balance... I’d ask you to accept around seven or eight thousand per month.”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “A baseline minimum won’t suffice.
“Let’s skip the hassle—calculate it yearly with an upfront payment.
“Two hundred thousand seals the deal.”

Akahara: “Two hundred thousand... That’s rather...”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “No good?
“Then this arrangement...”

Akahara: “Well, it’s not that it’s impossible, but if possible, not all at once…”

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “In two installments?”
“Fine—just 100,000 yen immediately…”
“The remainder can be settled at the end of June.”

Akahara (to Aogasaki): “As you can see…”

Aogasaki: “Whether the board approves or not, the prudent course would be for you to draw from your company’s advertising budget.”

Akahara: “In any case, I’ll advance the payment.”
(He wrote a check and handed it to the Lecturer in tinted glasses.)

Aogasaki (to the Lecturer): “That’s quite something.”
“I can only marvel at your handiwork.”
“Why don’t we treat ourselves to a proper feast today?”

From the back, a woman resembling an innkeeper appeared and bowed politely.

Woman: “Everything is prepared.”
“Please come this way to the main hall…”

Akahara: “It’s nothing elaborate, but let me offer a toast to celebrate our peaceful resolution.”
“Now then, everyone… Shall we?”

Guided by the woman, Aogasaki, the Lecturer, Akahara, and Noromi trailed into the back room in single file.
The Lecturer suddenly stepped back alone, turning to face the spectators,

The Lecturer (in tinted glasses): “I shall inevitably have to touch upon shiitake cultivation again before long.”
“Until then, kindly await that day with patience.”

Having finished speaking, he struck a brief pose and exited with a grand flourish.

Curtain.