Someone Stands Where Another Has Departed

Something a bit unusual is happening in two towns in Setouchi.

In Hiroshima City, a new bookstore has opened amidst a wave of closures. In Onomichi City, a pet goods store has emerged on the site of a gas station that no longer receives customers. — Both stories revolve around individuals who have taken on these “vacant spaces.”

With the publishing industry in decline and fuel demand decreasing, both belong to sectors facing headwinds. However, these two cases illustrate a more complex narrative than the simple equation of “no one comes because of the recession.” The real question is — when a space becomes vacant, who steps in, and what role do they take on?

Let’s take a closer look at the structures and motivations behind these changes.

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Hiroshima City — Redesigning the Concept of a “Bookstore”

The bookstore is located in a corner of a commercial facility in downtown Hiroshima. Just a few minutes’ walk from the nearest streetcar stop, it is surrounded by cafes and restaurants, making it a spot with consistent foot traffic.

According to a survey by Nippon Shuppan Hanbai, the number of bookstores nationwide has halved over the past 20 years. Hiroshima Prefecture is no exception, with closures primarily affecting roadside bookstores in suburban areas. Against this backdrop, the decision to open a new store is rooted in a design philosophy that differs from the traditional model of “selling books on shelves.”

The owner states, “It is precisely because of the publishing recession that a new form of bookstore is needed.”

Specifically, about 30% of the store’s space is allocated for events. They host author talks, storytelling sessions for children, and workshops led by local creators — selling not just books but also “experiences inspired by books.” The monthly rent is about 300,000 yen, which is relatively low for a commercial facility, but it is still challenging to cover this solely through the gross profit margin of books, typically around 20-25%. They sustain the business by combining multiple revenue streams, such as event participation fees, beverage sales, and the sale of curated goods.

What stands out here is that they did not drop the “bookstore” sign. They deliberately call it a “bookstore” even though it can also serve as a cafe or event space. This is a kind of declaration to the community — that there is still a place here where people can pick up books.

They actively handle works by local authors and dedicate part of the shelves to “local book shelves” featuring local publications and zines. This is not just a clever assortment of products; it functions as a mechanism connecting local writers and readers. Parents from nearby elementary schools have started visiting for the children’s reading events, which are becoming a regular occurrence two to three times a month.

While reconfiguring the contents of the bookstore, they maintain the vessel of “a place with books.” This redesign of form is at the core of the store’s philosophy.

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Onomichi City — The Potential of a Former Gas Station “Box”

Along the national highway in Onomichi City stands a building that was once a gas station. The fuel pumps have been removed, and the former pit area has been renovated. Now, it houses a pet goods store.

According to statistics from the Ministry of Economy, Trade and Industry, the number of gas stations in Japan peaked at about 60,000 in 1994 and has decreased to about 27,000 by 2023. Closures are particularly prevalent in rural areas, and the utilization of these vacant sites has become a challenge across the country. Due to the costs of soil contamination surveys and equipment removal, it is difficult to attract new tenants even after the land is cleared.

The couple who took on this property returned to their hometown. The monthly rent is about 200,000 yen. They leveraged the existing structure of the building — its wide frontage, high ceilings, and open design that allows vehicle access — to keep renovation costs low. The canopy (the roofed fuel area) has been repurposed into a dog terrace. They noted that there were hardly any places in the area where people could stop by with their dogs.

“It’s not that the number of pet owners has increased, but rather that there were no places to go with pets,” the couple explains.

This statement points to the absence of a suitable venue rather than the lack of demand. While Onomichi has tourist appeal, there is a gap in services that support the daily lives of residents. There are limited pet-friendly restaurants and shops, and there has long been a call for places where people can stop by while walking their dogs.

Within a few months of opening, they began to attract visitors from neighboring towns on weekends, with repeat customers accounting for more than half of their sales. While word-of-mouth on social media has played a role, the very fact that there is a place where people can be with their dogs is what draws them in.

The physical characteristics of the gas station “box” — spacious, open, and easily accessible by car — align perfectly with the flow of visitors with pets. It may seem coincidental, but the structure of the building has indeed invited its next use.

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Overlapping Stories of Two Cases

The bookstore in Hiroshima and the pet goods store in Onomichi differ in industry, scale, and clientele. However, when we align their structures, several commonalities emerge.

First, both have entered into “spaces where previous uses have ended.” Vacant tenant spaces in commercial facilities and closed gas stations. They have taken on the void created by withdrawals in a different context.

Next, they are utilizing the characteristics of the existing buildings and locations. The drawing power of the commercial facility and the wide entrance and high ceilings of the gas station. Instead of creating an ideal box from scratch, they have changed the “use” of an existing box. This structure of reuse allows them to keep initial investment low.

Moreover, both places focus not just on “selling goods” but also on “opening a space.” The bookstore has an event space, while the goods store has a dog terrace. There is room for people to stay even without purchasing products. This space, in turn, changes the flow of local people and provides a reason for them to return repeatedly.

— In other words, these two stores are examples of “how to take on a place” before they are “successful business cases.”

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Who Is Waiting for the “Vacant Space”?

The issues of vacant stores and idle land in rural areas are often discussed in terms of “vacancy rates” and “vacant tenant rates.” However, these figures indicate the quantity of emptiness, not the quality of the void.

What kind of space has become vacant? What structure does that space have? Who lives nearby, and what is lacking? — Only when there are people who can read the “contents” of the void can the next use become apparent.

The owner in Hiroshima has redefined the meaning of “a place with books” in a city where bookstores are dwindling. The couple in Onomichi has reinterpreted a space meant for cars into one for dogs and people. Both are considering not “what can be done here” in front of a vacant space, but rather “what do the people who come here need?”

Of course, it cannot be said that these examples can be replicated in every region. There are many variables, including location conditions, rent levels, the demographic composition of the area, and existing competition. Behind their success lies a lot of behind-the-scenes arrangements, negotiations, and steady relationship-building with the community. It is not hard to imagine that months of preparation preceded the glamorous opening day.

Nevertheless, these two stories convey a message.

A place where someone has departed is not a finished place. Depending on how the next person interprets it, it can take on a completely different role. The second act of Setouchi’s “vacant spaces” begins at the intersection of the power of the place itself and the discerning eyes of those who interpret it.