Neighbors warned of a curse, but the property became a children’s cafeteria

Renovating the Scene of a Robbery-Murder Case

“The sushi was delicious!”

In the downtown area of Ikuno Ward, Osaka, the cheerful voices of children filled the air.

On January 31, the opening event for the children’s cafeteria Kankuri Kids Kitchen was held. With the cooperation of the high-end sushi restaurant Sushiba Fuji in Kita-Shinchi, Osaka, 500 pieces of sushi were served free of charge to the children. Popular YouTuber Joe from JoBlog, with 2.4 million subscribers, also came to support the event, happily posing for photos. The children even had the opportunity to try making sushi themselves, and the event concluded successfully.

The Kankuri Kids Kitchen is operated by the Osaka-based special cleaning company Kansai Clean Service. There was a reason why such a large-scale event was held for the opening.

In December 2021, a man broke into a house in Osaka and bludgeoned an 82-year-old resident to death. Cash and valuables were stolen in this robbery-murder case. The horrific crime scene later became the location for Kankuri Kids Kitchen, making it what is known as a stigmatized property.

Turning a stigmatized property into a children’s cafeteria—this unprecedented challenge was driven by the strong determination of Noriyuki Kamezawa, CEO of Kansai Clean Service (45), who had handled numerous cases of solitary deaths and crime scenes. (In the text below, quotations without attribution are from Kamezawa.)

“One year after the incident, in 2022, we received a request for estate organization and special cleaning. When I was shown the site, I was told, ‘Actually, this is a stigmatized property. It’s a murder.’ The bloodstains were still vividly visible, and the case had not yet been resolved.”

The family not only wanted the site cleaned but also hoped to sell the property. However, the reality was harsh. A search online for “Ikuno Ward robbery-murder” immediately shows details of the crime and even the exterior of the building—a digital tattoo that cannot be erased.

“The family asked about selling the property to four real estate agencies, but all of them hesitated, saying, ‘Too much information remains online; we can’t handle it.’ None even provided an estimate.”

Amid this, the only company willing to purchase the property was Kamezawa’s company. He set a single condition:

“We cannot hide the incident. Instead, I said we would disclose everything and make use of it.”

Even after purchasing the property, deciding how to use it was a challenge. There was a plan to turn it into a short-term rental leveraging its proximity to Koreatown, but the building, being 45 years old, required massive costs to comply with fire regulations. Eventually, the second and third floors were fully renovated for residential use, and part of the first floor was converted into a rentable warehouse. The main area of the first floor, formerly a commercial space, remained unused.

“Using it as a restaurant was not feasible—it’s far from the station, and, above all, the memory of the incident still lingered. I struggled for years over how to use the first floor.”

Judging that the property had no market value, Kamezawa arrived at the idea of enhancing its social value.

“I thought it should be used for community and social contribution. Even if the past events cannot be erased, creating a space filled with children’s smiles can transform people’s memories and the image of the place.”

A looming wall

The opening event at the beginning was planned as the first step. In addition to Joe, the YouTuber from the local Ikuno Ward who also serves as a goodwill ambassador, the mayor of Ikuno Ward participated.

“I hope this becomes a place where children can connect with each other, and mothers can connect with each other too. I think childhood memories stay with you even when you grow up. Especially memories of high-end sushi. When I was a child, I couldn’t eat expensive sushi very often,” said Joe.

A challenge of revitalization beyond the common sense of real estate investment. Before that, a thick and high wall of reality stood in the way. The first obstacle faced was the cold reaction from financial institutions.

“No matter how beautifully we renovated a stigmatized property, the banks would not lend us money. When it’s the site of a murder, its asset value cannot be calculated.”

When a property is renovated and sold, most buyers take out a loan, but for a stigmatized property, its value as collateral cannot be recognized, so financing is not possible.

According to CEO Kamezawa, a site of a solitary death is usually valued at about 80% of the market price, and for a suicide it can be half. If it’s the site of a robbery-murder, the value drops even further.

“For the bereaved family, not only was a loved one killed, but the asset value of the property is also taken away. This is the reality of the incident.”

Kansai Clean Service is advancing this project using its own funds, disregarding profitability. From a business perspective, it doesn’t make financial sense. What drives CEO Kamezawa is a sense of crisis about the isolation he has seen at special cleaning sites.

When the company first purchased the property, what troubled them most was the eyes of the neighborhood. When visiting the site for renovations, they were often approached by passing elderly residents.

“‘Hey, are you the company that bought this place?’ ‘How could you buy a place like this? You’ll be cursed,’ they would say, throwing harsh words. It’s the downtown area of Ikuno, so rumors spread quickly.”

What perplexed CEO Kamezawa were the offerings placed at the entrance on the monthly anniversary of the victim’s death. Nobody knew who placed them. They were probably acquaintances of the victim or people who had been helped by them. Every month, bouquets, sweets, and food were left.

“It continued for two years, no, almost three. I could painfully understand that it was done with good intentions. But as the new owner, it felt like it was constantly being reminded, ‘This is a murder scene.’ We couldn’t put up a notice, and we wondered whether it was okay to dispose of them on our own. My staff and I were at a loss, thinking, ‘We can’t really say we don’t want them left here.’”

Revitalizing a stigmatized property means not only repairing the building but also continuously confronting the memories and emotions that remain in the community. Currently, the most pressing concern is the fundamental challenge of operating the children’s cafeteria.

How to prevent isolation?

“I also talked with officials from the city and the social welfare council, but the children and parents who really need support often don’t come to the children’s cafeteria.”

Fear and pride act as barriers—fearing being labeled as poor, worried about rumors in the neighborhood, or being bullied—so that support does not reach the families who need it most.

At the same time, he has heard stories of parents from middle-class or wealthier families leaving their children because it’s free, while they go have tea with friends or, in worse cases, use the time for an affair.

“Children who don’t have enough to eat often walk back and forth in front of the place many times. They won’t come in unless we actively reach out to invite them. Measures are needed to prevent social isolation.”

Even local governments don’t have clear answers to this problem. The reason CEO Kamezawa operates the children’s cafeteria is simple: he hoped it might provide a hint for opening doors.

“Social isolation doesn’t happen suddenly. It gradually creeps in due to triggers such as divorce, debt, or job loss. In the end, people pass away without anyone knowing. I’ve seen many such cases.

We conduct watch-over activities with city officials and community welfare commissioners, but those who do the watching are aging, and it’s tough. When we actually go to check on people, many are stubborn and say things like, ‘I don’t need anyone watching me,’ or, ‘I won’t rely on you.’ This is what’s called refusing to be watched.”

Is there a way to stop isolation before it happens? That’s when the idea of a place where neighbors could interact came up.

“If we create a place where children gather, like a children’s cafeteria, adults naturally gather too. Many parents came today as well, and through this, parents get to know each other. When the children who used the place grow up, they’ll remember, ‘Oh, there was a place like this when I was a kid.’ I think a children’s cafeteria is necessary to prevent each person from becoming isolated.”

The key is a safety net before isolation occurs. If a community emerges where adults’ eyes are attentive, it might prevent isolation.

“The asset value of this place may be almost zero, but if it becomes a place necessary for the community, its social value is immeasurable.”

The site of a once-gruesome incident has begun a new chapter as a life safety net that connects people in the community.