October 25, 2026—the final day of the BAYCREW’S Fair at Grand Green Osaka.
I set the 37 photographs I took to “Arekara” (“Since Then”), the beautiful song by AI Misora Hibari.
The following continues “Jinnan, Shibuya, and the Umeda North Yard,” published today.
When our company acquired the land under the circumstances described in the previous chapter, SAZABY and Afternoon Tea were our immediate neighbors to the east.
This was before they became the nationally renowned brands they are today.
They were very fine shops.
To the south, at the corner one street to the right of the road descending to Shibuya Station directly below, stood a two-story house belonging to someone named Watanabe.
The fashion brand BEAMS opened a store there, presumably after buying the property.
Its subsequent rise to tremendous popularity is well known.
Concerning BEAMS, I once had an experience few people would ever have.
When we moved our headquarters to the mezzanine of a building about 15 minutes from where we had founded the company, there was a pachinko parlor nearby.
There was a young man, the third son in his family, who had transferred from Shinshu University to Kansai University.
He came to our office almost daily to listen to me.
We became so close that I even took him to my favorite establishment in Kitashinchi.
He repeatedly said, “Mr. Kisara, not a single professor talks about the things you do. You ought to publish a book…”
One day, he pleaded, “I’m meeting a prospective marriage partner at a wine bar north of the Shin-Hankyu Building. Please come with me.”
“Oh, come on,” I thought, but I agreed and joined them.
It was the only time in my life I accompanied someone to a marriage meeting—or perhaps it was a date following their initial introduction.
The woman was the daughter of the founder of BEAMS.
She was slender and beautiful, but he said she was not for him.
When I asked why, he said she was strong-willed, and so on.
Astonished, I said, “What are you talking about? If you won’t pursue her, I will. She’s a real beauty. What a waste!”
His reply was:
“It’s difficult to enter our circle. Our world is made up of our own people…”
That was the only time I ever attended someone else’s marriage meeting.
When I was in high school, I attended a sibling’s wedding celebrations, held twice: in Sendai and in Hakata, the bride’s hometown.
I wore my stand-collar uniform from Sendai Second High School.
One of her relatives, said to be a school vice-principal, offered me alcohol. When I declined, he harangued me: “That may be acceptable in Sendai, but it won’t do here,” and so forth.
Of course, I did not lose my temper there, but inwardly I was profoundly angry.
What kind of educator offers alcohol to a high school student and then berates him for refusing?
All my own teachers had been truly wonderful people, which made it even worse.
From then on, I became that rare person who attends neither weddings nor funerals.
There has been just one exception.
I had thrown myself into business with the ferocity of a warrior spirit and established an overwhelming position in the Shin-Osaka area. A young man left a real estate brokerage well known throughout the Kansai region, then preparing to go public, because he wanted to work for me.
He was a devout follower of Tenrikyo.
He was to marry a very fine young woman at a church in the mountains of Minoh.
He earnestly asked me, as his company president, to serve as the ceremonial matchmaker at their wedding.
“Can a bachelor be a wedding matchmaker?” I asked.
“That’s perfectly all right,” he replied, so I reluctantly accepted… Writing this, I laughed at how much I sounded like Tora-san, the wandering bachelor of Japanese cinema.
Apart from that single occasion, I have truly lived my life since then without attending anyone else’s wedding or funeral—without attending ceremonies of any kind.
In that respect, too, there can hardly be another business leader like me.
Photography, text, and video production: MIKIO KISARA
Location: Grand Green Osaka, Umeda, Osaka, Japan
Photographed: Evening, October 25, 2026
Music: AI Misora Hibari, “Arekara” (“Since Then”)