My History
In recent years, our company has been featured in a number of media outlets, but the road to where we are today was far from easy. One of our biggest challenges came during the tenure of our founder and former president, when our annual revenue stood at around 200 million yen, yet our debt had grown to a staggering 900 million yen. At the time, I didn’t ask myself whether repayment was possible—I simply believed that repaying the debt was the only option left. What set me apart was my mindset. If I repaid even 10,000 yen, that brought the debt down to 899.99 million. It wasn’t 900 million anymore. In other words, no matter how small the progress, I believed that every step forward counted. That was the attitude I carried with me every day.
From the outside, it may have looked like I was struggling, but truthfully, that period was one of the most fulfilling times in my life. People around me said things like, “We tried the same thing you're doing, and it didn’t work.” I was the nail that stuck out—and got hammered for it. But deep down, I thought, then I’ll just stick out so far that no one can hammer me down.
Despite the headwinds, my strategy started to work. The numbers gradually improved. Things were going so well that I actually began to feel uneasy. I still remember a dinner I had with the former president and our head of accounting. I told them, “To be honest, I’m scared. Everything is going exactly as I imagined, which makes me think I must be missing something. Maybe I’m charging ahead too recklessly to see the pitfalls. If you spot any danger ahead, please tell me—before I fall into the hole.”
In the end, I managed to repay 700 million yen within six years of taking office.
But just as we were gaining momentum, tragedy struck. In 2012, the former president suddenly passed away. The company, which had 86 employees at the time, was reduced to about 10. It was an incredibly difficult time, both personally and professionally, but I was able to get through it thanks to the unwavering support of our current executive vice president. There’s a row of cherry trees along the road I take to work. For four years during that period, I didn’t even notice when they were in bloom. That’s why cherry blossoms have a deep personal meaning for me. Every spring, I look at the blossoms and ask myself—Do I have the presence of mind to truly appreciate them? Where am I emotionally right now? For me, cherry blossoms have become a symbol of self-reflection and awareness.
The Present
In small and mid-sized companies, it’s often said that the CEO is alone at the top. But I’ve never felt that kind of loneliness. Whenever I’m uncertain or facing a challenge, I simply talk to my team. Everyone comes from different backgrounds, and that diversity means someone always has a helpful idea or the answer I’m looking for. I genuinely enjoy my work because I see every employee as my right hand.
To me, each team member is an extension of the CEO. No president can do everything alone—that’s why we have departments like sales and design, with skilled people handling those responsibilities. In that sense, every employee acts as a stand-in for the CEO. If my team is doing well, I’m doing well. And if they’re struggling, then so am I.
One initiative that reflects this philosophy is what we call the “CEO Exit Notice.” The concept is simple: we’re working toward a company where the CEO is no longer needed in the day-to-day. This idea came from a common challenge in small businesses—too many operations rely on the president alone. There were far too many tasks that only I knew how to do or could take care of, and that dependency was a problem. So, we began with the first step: building a company that could run smoothly even without me. We achieved that fairly quickly. Now we’re in the second phase—creating a workplace where everyone can continue to enjoy their work, even if I’m not around. To support that, I make it a point to regularly ask my team, often in casual conversations, what would make their work more fun and fulfilling.
For the Future
To guide our company into the future, I’ve created a 30-year long-term plan built around three distinct phases, each with a 10-year timeline and a clear goal. The first phase is about fulfilling the role of a second-generation leader—similar to Hidetada Tokugawa, the second shogun of the Edo period in Japan. While most people tend to focus on Ieyasu, the founding shogun, or Iemitsu, the powerful third shogun, it was Hidetada who quietly built the foundation that sustained the Tokugawa shogunate for over 260 years. He was the one who passed the baton smoothly. In the same way, as the second-generation president of this company, my role is to skillfully navigate change and prepare the ground for the next generation to thrive.
The second phase is all about passing that baton—business succession. Every company eventually goes through this, but it’s a process much like shedding a layer of skin. It’s necessary for growth, but also a time of great vulnerability. When I took over from the previous president, it felt like we were hanging on by a thread. That’s why I believe succession shouldn’t be rushed; it should unfold over a decade to ensure a smooth and sustainable transition to the next generation.
The third and final phase is called “Toward a New Dream.” Once the handoff is complete and the third-generation leader is in place, if I remain too visible, employees may continue looking to me instead of the new leadership. That could divide the company. But at the same time, if I completely walk away from the business I’ve poured my life into, I know I’d lose a vital part of myself. So I plan to take on a new role—one that allows me to contribute from a different perspective, without interfering in daily operations, and to be compensated fairly for that contribution. Even after stepping away from the front lines, I want to continue supporting the company in a meaningful way. With hope for the future, I’ll keep moving forward, doing what needs to be done—always alongside my team, and always with a sense of joy.