I decided on Kiyozushi as the name of the shop. I wanted the customers to share the joy I felt during that childhood memory of being poor, when we tasted the two slices of tuna that our mother brought home from a post burial meal, sharing them between a family of four. My concept for the shop was simple: To offer higher quality than other conveyor-style sushi places. At more reasonable prices than high-class sushi restaurants.

The goal was set as Kiyozushi. After paying back the bank loans and the donations from friends, I used 2 million JPY out of the remaining 3 million to open a small, only 33 sqm sized shop. Not only did we not have a counter, we didn’t even have a display case to show the sushi pieces. The menu was also limited to only bowls and around 20 types of sushi like tuna. But I was confident in the quality since I was able to source fresh seafood through all of the years of learning, experience and networks I had created. Plus, the offer on the menu was priced reasonably. Back in the day, some sushi places only indicated “market price” on their menus, which I did not think customers felt at ease to enjoy. That’s why I decided to always indicate the price.

I asked the two sushi chefs I employed to always be appreciative toward the customers. This was because at that time, the prevalent attitude among sushi chefs was not to talk and to look down on the customers. Many actually behaved that way. I just wanted the customers to enjoy good seafood comfortably. That was all I asked for. This place was founded on my resolve to repay back my friends as well as the relentless support from my wife. There was no chance to fail. I worked like a madman. Thankfully, the fresh seafood bowls and sushi, coupled with the friendly service led to the popularity of this shop. Lines began to be formed and we were able to make up to 600,000 yen in sales per day.

<<Two years after starting over. An influential person from Tsukiji reached out>>

At the time, there was Akatorii a shop with long history just outside Tsukiji that dealt with porcelain and lacquerware. The director of the shop and large landowner of Tsukiji, Mr. Fukuyo Ogawa, had often passed my shop on his way to work, and we often shared pleasantries. Always being a consummate gentleman. Director Ogawa visited me one day at Kiyozushi.

He said that formerly Tsukiji had bustled with over 6 million tourists every year. But after the economic crash, that number had now fallen to 1.5 million. After repeatedly emphasizing that this was no longer stagnation but an obvious decline, he said that he wanted me to help attract more visitors to Tsukiji, and in return he will allow me to use one of his shops.

The shop that Director Ogawa had offered was at a prime location just outside Tsukiji, where the largest quantity of traffic could be expected. But I had no collateral to guarantee for the rental of the shop. So at first I declined, but the Director said, that it can wait until I started making profit. He then added that he had been watching me for a long time. And that I was the one he had in mind to offer this deal to. I was honored so much by this.

At the time, I have already been working in Tsukiji close to 30 years, and have felt so much support in how this market had treated me. And, I was also well aware that the previously bustling Tsukiji was full of vacant lots and storefronts after the economic crash. I knew how the Director Ogawa had felt about this. Besides, I also received another huge support in terms of funding. Mr. Watanabe from Dai-Ichi Kangyo Bank stepped in to help, and gave me the push and assurance that I could do it. With these two backing me, I knew I could take this challenge head-on.
We had to emphasize the authenticity to attract the visitors to Tsukiji. So in essence that was fish. Sushi, to be more precise. My goal was to attract visitors to Tsukiji by opening a sushi shop unlike any before. The wheels of destiny started turning in a big way.