Takikawa-shi

In the most recent Population Census the population is about 39,000 (39,490 in 2020). From 46,861 in 2000, through 45,562 in 2005, 43,170 in 2010, and 41,192 in 2015, it fell to 39,490 in 2020 — a loss of more than seven thousand over twenty years.

Looking inside the figures, the shape of the central city of the plain where two rivers meet appears. The share aged 65 and over rose from 20.0% in 2000 to 35.0% in 2020 — up some fifteen points over twenty years, passing three in ten. Households with children make up 15.7% (2020). The employment rate was 52.0% in 2020. The Childcare Waitlist was a slight two in 2024 and zero in 2025. The Fiscal Capacity Index was 0.39 in fiscal 2023 — a level whose own tax revenue covers about four-tenths of expenditure, which is on the higher side among the eight Hokkaido cities set out in this article. The numbers show the central city that the tondenhei opened on the plain where two rivers meet raising the town’s age while gently losing population. Why it takes this shape cannot be read without tracing the history of the two rivers and the tondenhei.

This town’s skeleton is set by the landform where two great rivers meet, by the tondenhei who entered that land, and by its role as the center of mid-Sorachi. The opening layer is the landform. A great river flowing down from the north and a river descending from the eastern mountains become one, in the very midst of this plain. The knot of the river confluence widened a fertile plain and made, at this land, a place where the routes of boat and land cross. A place where two rivers meet is this town’s deepest foundation.

At that confluence, the tondenhei entered. In the middle of the Meiji era, for northern defense and reclamation, people who were both soldiers and farmers entered this land in units of several hundred households, and another several hundred households entered the neighboring district as well, turning the plain into fields. The place name is said to be a translation of an old word for the waterfall over which the eastern river falls. The land of farming the tondenhei opened became, by the force of the knot of the two-river confluence, a place where people and goods gather, and grew into the central city of mid-Sorachi. Later, the river’s floodplain became a place where wings gliding through the sky dance, and the plain came to be known too for the scene of yellow flowers covering it in early summer. The confluence of two rivers, the settlement of the tondenhei, and the center of Sorachi. These three unwind in order from a single landform — that the rivers meet. The confluence gave rise to a fertile plain and crossing routes, the tondenhei entered there, and in time the hub city of mid-Sorachi grew. Takikawa’s present rests on the force of that knot.

What characterizes Takikawa-shi is that, while carrying the history of the two rivers and the tondenhei, it has gently lost more than seven thousand people over twenty years. From 46,861 in 2000 to 39,490 in 2020, the loss is about fifteen percent. While many of the eight Hokkaido cities set out in this article lose twenty or thirty percent of their population, Takikawa’s loss is on the somewhat gentler side. The position of the knot where two rivers meet gave the town a thickness as the center of mid-Sorachi’s commerce and administration, and can be read as having somewhat held back a steep population outflow. But some of the younger generation moved toward the larger cities, and the whole town’s age has risen. That the share aged 65 and over reached 35.0%, passing three in ten, in 2020 is the sign of that.

Meanwhile the Childcare Waitlist was a slight two in 2024 but zero in 2025, and households with children make up 15.7% (2020). A Fiscal Capacity Index of 0.39 is a level whose own tax revenue covers about four-tenths of expenditure, which is on the higher side among the eight cities set out here. The plain’s farming, the functions of commerce and administration as the center of Sorachi, and the flows of people drawn by the floodplain’s wings and yellow flowers can be read as supporting the tax source. The central city of the plain is now raising the town’s age while gently losing population. The population loss is gentle, aging passes three in ten, fiscal strength is on the higher side among the eight cities. This combination — a gentle loss and comparatively thick finances, rare among Sorachi cities — is the sign that the centrality of a confluence has given the town both farming and commerce. Looking at a single figure alone does not bring this comparative advantage to the surface.

In Takikawa, landform and history are layered twofold. One is the landform: in the very midst of the Ishikari Plain, a great river flowing from the north and a river descending from the east become one. The other is its character: at that confluence the tondenhei entered in units of several hundred households, turned the plain into fields, and built the central city of mid-Sorachi. And the river’s floodplain became a place where wings gliding through the sky dance, and the plain is known too for the scene of yellow flowers covering it. The landform of two rivers meeting gave this town both a fertile plain and a knot where the routes of boat and land cross.

In a word, Takikawa is a town where, at the knot where two rivers meet, the tondenhei built a central city. From the confluence of the two rivers, to the settlement of the tondenhei, the center of Sorachi, and the floodplain’s wings and yellow flowers — every one of these is rooted in “the river confluence in the very midst of the Ishikari Plain.” The great river descending from the north and the river coming from the east met and enriched the soil, and that fertile plain drew the tondenhei and raised the hub city of mid-Sorachi. The fields, and the knot where people and goods gather, traced to their source, are both born from the landform where these two rivers became one.