From the four winds and the scent of the earth.

Come the color of the seasons.

Exploring the four seasons of Japan.

The train's coming.

These are the best seats.

The Green train.

It goes too fast, too fast.

This is Tokyo's Ikegami Line.

Trains take 22 minutes to cover the line's 10.9 kilometers.

The line winds through local communities, also cutting through Tokyo's longest shopping arcade.

Each of the line's stations is an important part of local life.

This restaurant, which always boasts a queue, is popular for its unusual menu combinations.

Diners enjoy curry paired with chinese noodles.

The restaurants popularity bridges the generations.

- "Who chose this place?"
- We both love it.

I've been coming since I was 24 or 25.

Hello.

This former public bath is now an indoor fishing pond.

While the time may pass and the scenery change, the line remains part of local people's lives.

We take a springtime trip along this local Tokyo railway.

The Ikegami line runs through southeast Tokyo.

Linking Kamata with Gotanda, the line has 15 stations.

The line's southernmost station is Kamata Station in Tokyo's Ota Ward.

Kamata is a terminus also served by JR lines.

60,000 people use the station every day.

"Kamata, Kamata, is the final stop."

Since prior to World War Two, Kamata has hosted many manufacturing businesses.

The district is home to around 4000 metalworking and other small businesses.

Many of these businesses are passed down from parent to child...

including this company, founded 64 years ago.

The company is renowned for extreme skill in metalworking,

saying there is no metal they cannot bend.

The company's third president is Kawabata Nobutaka.

Nobutaka makes fine adjustments to his machinery,

depending on the metal's type and thickness, to generate the pressure needed

to meet the exact bending requirements.

Changing the position by even just 0.1mm
produces a completely different result.

He is creating a component, 81cm in diameter, which will serve as a base for a filtering device.

When metal is bent, it tries to return to its original shape.

Nobutaka carefully assesses the strength of the rebound,

as he repeatedly passes the metal through his machine.

However, the machine cannot finish the job.

Now you can see the actual shape,
which is warped like this.

Nobutaka fixes the warp manually using his hammer.

It took him five years to develop this level of skill.

Many workshops moved to the area around Kamata after the Great Kanto Earthquake of 1923.

They came here as the area was relatively undamaged.

During the war, they built tanks and machine guns,

transitioning after the war to kitchenware and agricultural equipment.

The company was founded by Gonmatsu, Nobutaka's grandfather,

a specialist in bending rails for railtracks.

After the war, he arrived in Tokyo from his home in Kanazawa, Ishikawa.

To me, my Granddad feels
a little like a historical figure.

I mean, he came from Kanazawa to Tokyo
after the war by himself, when the city was destroyed.

It's an incredible story, just amazing.

Today, a neighbor, who went to the same elementary school as Nobutaka, came by with a job request.

The man wants Nobutaka to make a cover to fit a semi-circular curtain rail.

Neighboring workshops often help each other by focusing on their respective areas of skill.

Thanks for doing this.

Get it done by the morning of the 20th.

OK, OK.

This is a little difficult.

There is no blueprint, so I have no
idea what the diameter of the circle is.

Nobutaka needs to use special measuring tools to find out the diameter of the curtain rail's circle.

His workshop includes more than 1000 different types of tools

hand-made by his grandfather for measuring diameters.

This is it, 1,930mm.

Nobutaka uses these measurements to start making the curtain rail cover.

Shall we run it through again?

That's better.

He completes the ordered part before the day is out.

Let's lift it up. From underneath.

Nobutaka says his business is similar to farming.

Even amid changing weather, if you are firmly rooted in the ground,

you can always achieve a good harvest.

Our next destination is at the heart of the Ikegami Line's origin story.

"The next stop is Ikegami. Please
watch your step as you leave the train."

This temple is around 10 minutes away from Ikegami Station.

Ikegami Honmonji is a major temple in the Nichiren school of Buddhism.

More than seven centuries have passed since the school's founder died here at the temple.

Today, the temple is holding a ceremony to celebrate the Buddha's birthday.

The Ikegami Line was originally built to carry worshippers to this temple.

The line first opened in 1922.

When the line first opened, it ran only from Kamata to Ikegami.

The line was busiest on the anniversary of Nichiren's demise.

We meet someone who communtes to the temple every day, staying on after dark to keep the grounds clean.

Her name is Hosono Katsue.

Oh wow.

This situation is a sweeper's nightmare.

No matter how much you sweep,
he leaves keep on falling.

At the end of each day, she always pays her respects to memorials in the temple's cemetery.

One memorial is dedicated to victims of drowning.

Aren't they cute, the statues of Jizo?

Katsue brings fresh flowers from the temple, rearranges them, and presents them at the memorial.

Katsue started visiting the temple following an experience she had in her younger days.

Sometimes I feel like I can
meet my mother here.

Sometimes I can
meet my brother too.

Katsue was born in a fishing family in Hokkaido.

When she was 16, her older brother went missing after his fishing boat sank.

I remember someone telling my mother that
the radio was reporting the sinking of his ship.

Katsue's mother, overcome with sadness, sought solace in a local temple.

That temple was a local branch temple of Ikegami Honmonji.

After Katsue left Hokkaido and moved to Tokyo, her mother asked her to take her to Ikegami Honmonji.

They visited together, and that was Katsue's first contact with the temple.

Katsue says that whenever she faced difficult times, she always came to Ikegami Honmonji to pray.

"There is nothing quite like a mother."

When I am here, I never feel lonely or sad.

Katsue's mother has now passed away.

Since retiring at the age of 60, Katsue has come to the temple every day for more than twenty years.

The temple's priests and local worshipers together clean the temple grounds twice a month.

Good morning.

The temple has held these communal events for the past 20 years.

Katsue always goes to take part.

Thanks to Katsue's daily weeding efforts,
it is easy for us to keep the temple clean.

Look at you, all grown up.

If you have some free time, please
come to Honmonji. It will cheer you up.

Senzoku-ike means
"a pond for washing your feet."

The Buddhist saint Nichiren is
said to have washed his feet here.

The pond has long been loved as a scenic spot.

Next to the pond is the grave of
somone who loved coming here.

Katsu Kaishu is a famous figure from the end of
Japan's samurai era and the start of modernization.

Katsu was involved in negotiations with Japan's new
civilian government, helping to keep Japan at peace.

He fell in love with the Senzoku Pond, and
decided to move nearby in his later years.

This photograph shows Katsu later in life.

The story of Senzoku Pond runs
through eras of Japanese history.

Katsu Kaishu's grave is here.

He requested to be interred here by the pond.

I am honored just to sweep it.

A hero of Japanese history watches on
from his resting place among the trees.

"The next stop is Osakihirokoji."

"The exit is on the righthand side."

The train arrives at Osakihirokoji Station, an area at the center of redevelopment efforts in Shinagawa Ward.

This is the TOC building, built in 1970.

As home to numerous wholesaling companies,

it is one of the most important logistic centers in East Asia.

However, as the building is deteriorating, the decision has been taken to knock it down.

The businesses based in the building are preparing now to move out.

- It is our final day today.
- You're closing today?

- Yes, we're closing today.
- Really, I did not realize that.

This wholesaler of calligraphy equipmemnt is moving out of the building today.

The owner remembers moving in two years after the building was opened.

I was amazed by how big the building was.

They say that around 3000 companies
were going to move in.

When I heard 300 business from
different industries would be here,

I really wanted to join them.

The building was built near to the Tokyo Metropolitan Expressway,

on land previously occupied by a pharmaceutical plant, as part of a government project...

to bring multiple wholesalers together in an area with good transport links, reducing logistics costs.

The huge building, with 13 above-ground floors and a total floor area of 170,000 square meters,

also hosted various public events highlighting the richness of Japanese commerce.

On the building's first basement floor is a cafe that has been in the building since it was first built.

It was popular with the building's workers, particularly at lunch.

"Lemon squash, hot coffee, cream...?"

"Lemon squash, hot coffee,
and a croque monsieur."

Running the cafe today is 95 year old Yoshida Satoko.

Making the coffee and snacks is her husband, Furusawa Masao, aged 91.

When the building is demolished, they have decided to retire.

I talk to the coffee beans,

asking them to create delicious coffee.

The couple have lived along the Ikegami Line for more than 30 years.

They use the train all the time; for work, for leisure and for shopping.

- We haven't got out at this station in a while
- No, we haven't, have we?

The couple met 60 years ago.

Masao fell for Satoko when she was working as a cloakroom receptionist at a restaurant,

and he was working for an advertising agency.

Soon after meeting, Satoko decided to open a small coffee shop with Masao's help.

Before long, they heard about an opportunity in the TOC building.

With so many companies flooding into the huge building,

the couple decided to stake their future on it.

I always use the mirror because
wearing a mask can upset my hair.

I don't suppose anyone is looking.

But it bothers me.

I can't get it out.

The cafe's regular customers also help out.

Some customers continued to visit the cafe even after their own company left the building.

- Thank you.
- OK.

- You're working hard.
- I am.

Come in for a cup of tea,
get put to work; It's a hard life.

Once this building is gone,
will you try again elsewhere?

No, I don't think we can.

That will be it for our business.

"Once you close down, you won't be
able to meet your customers though."

That goes without saying.

What can you do?

We have had so many customers.

Everyday, I see people
come and I see people go.

That's life.

I've got good memories.

Our trip down the Ikegami Line brings us to Gotanda, the line's final stop.

Gotanda grew as a center of entertaiment for local factory workers.

Recently, it is home to many IT companies.

This photographer's studio has survived for nearly 100 years through the districts ups and downs.

This photo shows someone about to
go off to war. My Granddad took this.

The man became the owner
of a local clothing shop.

The young soldier says goodbye to his family before heading off to war.

80 years later, the same photography business once again captured him in a family photograph.

Ioda Akira is the third generation of his family running the photographer's studio.

Wow, don't you look great.

These customers live locally in a high-rise condominium.

They are here to celebrate their son finishing kindergarten.

He wants to capture the moment in the photograph that will last for ever.

You look great.

Congratulations. Please look this
way. Let me take the first one.

That's excellent. And Mom too,
it's always better when you smile.

And just a few more. Look over here and smile.

That's it, that's it.

And just one more.

OK, I think we are done, thank you.

Our job at this studio is to capture
memories in a form that can last forever.

My father always said I should work in a way
that makes customers want to thank me.

And I would just nod.

Akira trained as a photographer under his father Masashi, the second generation owner of the store.

As a child, he used to play in this neighborhood.

The cinema on the other side of the road would let him in for free.

This alleyway is behind the photo studio.

Along here, there was a
long line of cabaret clubs.

In Masashi's youth, Gotanda was famous for its cabarets.

It was quite something.

Even though there were so many clubs,
they didn't struggle to fill them.

All the clubs were always packed.

There were no taller buildings.

It's changed so much. It's a different world.

The small manufacturing businesses of old have gone, replaced by towering condomimium blocks.

Masashi showed us some of his treasured possessions.

These are photographs of Gotanda locals taken over his 50 year career.

Sometimes I enjoy looking back
over these old photographs.

I hope I can send some of these on to
people who would like to have them.

Some of the photographs of geisha date from before the war,

when Masashi was helping his father, the business's founder.

Having put time and effort into taking these
photographs, it is difficult to throw them away.

When I pass to the next world,
I'd like to take them with me.

The city changes, but the memories live on.

Today, the photo studio has another new reservation.

Congratulations.

Congratulations. Please come on in.

Lovely to meet you, welcome.

We've been open 94 years,
but I think this is a first.

We've never done a proposal
photo shoot before.

This couple got engaged just one hour ago.

Most people don't have any photographs
to remember their marriage proposal.

I thought it would be a good idea to take.

- "So you knew she'd say yes?"
- I thought it was about 50-50.

If she had said no, I was ready
to come in here by myself.

Think back one hour to the proposal...
and look this way.

The pictures capture the couple's hope for a happy future.

This photograph will stilll be around in
50 or 100 years. Let's have a lasting smile.

As some begin their lives together, and others look back fondly,

the Ikegami line continues to serve the communities of southeast Tokyo.