Japan’s ranks of short-lived prime ministers can all attest to one thing: Political fortunes in Tokyo can change rapidly. The incumbent Fumio Kishida is now the one feeling the heat.

Just two months ago, after a dominant performance in Upper House elections, the talk in Tokyo was of a "golden three years” during which Kishida could rule without having to face the electorate at the ballot box again. But after a year of ratings inflated largely by his bold stance on Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, reality is finally catching up. Japan’s Mr. Play-It-Safe is suddenly living dangerously.

His poll numbers are tanking at every major outlet. In a JNN survey published Sunday, 48.3% said they disapproved of Kishida’s Cabinet, slightly more than those who said they backed it. His approval figures are the worst since he took office.

The problems are mounting. Inflation is at its highest in a generation, with wage growth still anemic. August’s Cabinet reshuffle has failed to deliver the expected boost despite elevating publicly popular figures such as Digital Minister Taro Kono. And opposition is growing to Kishida’s plans for a state funeral for Shinzo Abe, with majorities saying they oppose the event, which is unusual in Japan. It’s too late to back down now, so the prime minister has pledged to explain the rationale for the occasion, which may cost taxpayers $2 million.

But the top issue dragging Kishida down has almost nothing to do with him. Abe’s killing has raised the issue of links between ruling Liberal Democratic Party politicians and the Unification Church, more commonly known as the Moonies. The suspect in Abe’s murder has told police he targeted the former leader, who once appeared in a video message for a church-connected event, because of a grudge he bore against the group.

Abe’s connections to the church seem relatively tenuous; Kishida’s are nonexistent. Most of the links touted in the media between the church and LDP members seem little more than the standard business of politicians — sending congratulatory messages and pressing flesh with voters at events. The Moonies’ fundraising methods may be unpleasant, but the organization is not illegal.

Nonetheless, with its vague allegations of impropriety, the affair is infinite grist for the mill of the "wide shows,” the afternoon gossip-loving news programs that have a deep influence on Japanese public opinion. Kishida’s belated pledge to tackle the issue by cutting ties between the LDP and the Moonies risks running afoul of constitutionally-guaranteed rights to freedom of religion, and could keep the story in the headlines instead.

The issue will likely continue to rumble in the background, perhaps periodically spiking just as long-running cronyism scandals did during Abe’s time in office. But Abe was able to push those affairs off the front pages by taking control of political narratives through policy. Kishida has few such accomplishments to fall back on.

More than a year since he declared he would challenge Yoshihide Suga for leadership of the LDP, it’s hard to name a single significant domestic legislative achievement. Taking on Suga at the time was a bold move, but it’s perhaps the last daring step he’s made outside of foreign policy.

Kishida’s signature economic strategy of "New Capitalism” is laden with internal contradictions, with more grand rhetorical flourishes than concrete policies. He’s played defensive on COVID-19, moving slowly to restart suspended tourism campaigns and support hard-hit small businesses. One of the reasons Abe’s state funeral is attracting so much attention is that it’s hard to identify Kishida’s fingerprints on anything else.

To make matters worse, he’s attracting a reputation of being a flip-flopper. The latest reversal has been on nuclear power. No sooner had Kishida unexpectedly and bravely backed the building of new nuclear reactors in a major departure for post-Fukushima energy policy, than he seemed to back away from that stance, declaring instead that he’d continue to reduce dependence on atomic power.

It makes little sense for a country facing an energy crunch and is reminiscent of a back-and-forth in his first few months in office on increasing capital gains taxes, while also encouraging citizens to invest in the market. Kishida seems sincere when he says he’s a good listener who wants to hear from all sides, but in trying to appeal to everyone he instead appeals to no one.

Japan’s voters tend to reward premiers with bold policies — from Junichiro Koizumi’s postal privatization to Abe’s drastic measures to defeat deflation. Even Kishida’s short-lived predecessor Suga moved fast, leaving office with far more legislative feats that Kishida has managed so far, even as he juggled vaccination campaigns and the Olympics.

It’s much too early to write Kishida off. It’s normal for polling numbers to fall from a high start — indeed, in Kishida’s case the only mystery has been why it hasn’t happened already. Challenges won’t mount from within the LDP unless his ratings fall into the 30% "danger zone,” and with Abe gone his faction, the party’s largest, is in disarray. The Unification Church story may run out of steam after the state funeral later this month.

But Kishida needs points on the board — that means bold policies. Kishida may be a good listener; now is the time for him to speak up.

Gearoid Reidy is a Bloomberg Opinion columnist covering Japan and the Koreas.