The third-party battle had come to an end, and Sega had secured a third-party lineup not much worse than Nintendo's. Coupled with the console's performance advantage, the Sega MD's situation was looking very good.
The remaining competition would be in the game lineup, and naturally, the most important part of the game lineup was first-party exclusive titles.
Takuya Nakayama, back to game development, didn't feel as relaxed as everyone imagined.
He leaned back in his chair, unconsciously twirling a fountain pen with his fingertips, his gaze fixed on the 'my neighbor totoro' promotional poster in the corner of his office.
On his desk lay a few thin pages of notes.
"Farm management and warm daily life experience."
He replayed in his mind the promise he had made to Hayao Miyazaki in the Ghibli reception room—the sharp blade that broke through Hayao Miyazaki's final defenses, shimmering with the light of a brilliant concept.
The boast he had made sounded beautiful and romantic.
But how to transform this concept into a truly interesting game that could immerse players without any hint of utilitarianism was far more challenging than defeating any commercial rival.
How could individual "warm little stories" be seamlessly integrated into the game environment?
It needed to be sufficiently healing, yet avoid becoming tedious, repetitive "tasks."
Most importantly, it had to pass through Hayao Miyazaki's discerning, almost harsh eyes that saw into the soul.
This was not a competition of capital or machine performance, but of understanding art and the human heart.
It was a purer and more rigorous test.
For the first time, he felt that his "undefeated" reputation was facing a completely different challenge.
With a mind full of worries, Takuya Nakayama returned to the Nakayama Family family mansion.
The dinner atmosphere was relaxed and pleasant.
His father, Tatsuo Nakayama, was clearly in excellent spirits, even taking the rare liberty of sipping a cup of sake while chatting casually with his mother, Nakayama Miyuki.
Only Takuya Nakayama seemed somewhat distracted.
"Takuya, is the food not to your liking?"
His mother, Nakayama Miyuki's voice was gentle, carrying a hint of imperceptible worry.
Tatsuo Nakayama's gaze also shifted from his sake cup, falling upon his youngest son.
His discerning eyes instantly saw the fatigue on his son's face, which stemmed not from physical exhaustion but from mental strain.
"Hasn't the third-party matter already been settled?"
His father's voice was as steady as ever.
Takuya put down his chopsticks and forced a smile.
"It's not about the third-party matter."
Knowing he couldn't hide it from his father's eyes, he confessed, "I'm worried about the game adaptation of 'my neighbor totoro'."
"I promised Director Miyazaki a game without combat, full of warmth. But turning that 'feeling' into concrete gameplay is much harder than I imagined."
Nakayama Miyuki looked at her son's furrowed brow, her eyes filled with heartache.
"Then don't push yourself so hard. You've already done well enough."
Tatsuo Nakayama listened, not immediately offering an opinion, but pondering for a moment.
He raised his sake cup, took a sip, and then, with an irrefutable tone, offered an unexpected suggestion.
"In that case, take a vacation."
Takuya was stunned for a moment.
"The third-party campaign has concluded; you don't need to personally handle the subsequent wrap-up work."
Hayao Nakayama's voice carried the decisive authority unique to a superior.
"For now, entrust game reviews to Yu Suzuki. Let Director Yoshikawa take over communication with third-party developers."
"Go stay at the old family home in Ibaraki for a few days."
"Relax well. Consider it a vacation given by me, the president, to you, a meritorious employee."
These words were both a father's deepest care for his son and a president's most practical consideration for his subordinate.
Takuya felt a warmth in his heart and accepted his father's suggestion.
The next day, after a simple handover of work, he drove alone out of Tokyo.
The scenery outside the car window was like a fast-forwarded movie.
Cold, hard skyscrapers and glass curtain walls were gradually replaced by soft green fields and quaint Japanese traditional houses.
The heavy feeling in his heart also slowly dissipated as the wheels turned, left behind.
When the car stopped in front of the old house in rural Ibaraki, he was greeted by his white-haired grandmother, who smiled kindly.
He took off the crisp suit that represented his position as "Sega Managing Director" and changed into loose, comfortable casual clothes.
In that instant, he felt as if a thousand-pound burden had been lifted, transforming from a resourceful business elite back into the pure "Takuya" who could be spoiled and daydream.
This place was precisely the real-world version of the game world he had once described to Hayao Miyazaki.
Evening.
A cool breeze blew, dispelling the heat of the day.
Takuya sat under the wooden veranda of the old house, nibbling on cold asparagus prepared by his grandmother while chatting casually with her.
The asparagus carried the fresh aroma of being just picked from the ground—a taste from his childhood memories.
In the quiet summer night, the distant rice paddies were filled with the croaking of frogs, and suddenly, a faint rustling sound came from the nearby bushes.
Takuya instinctively looked over.
His grandmother, however, smiled and waved her hand.
"Don't be scared, it's probably a fox from the mountains looking for something to eat."
As if recalling something interesting, she naturally began to talk about local legends concerning foxes.
"To the farmers here, foxes are messengers of Inari Okami, they are treasures."
"In the past, people would place a piece of fried tofu under the Jizo Bodhisattva statue at the edge of the field."
"They wouldn't ask for anything, it was just a gesture of goodwill. Who knows, maybe the fox spirit would be pleased and make next year's harvest even better."
"Aren't there several fox stone statues in the old shrine at the village entrance? Those were all offered by everyone hoping for a bountiful harvest, little by little."
Hearing the words "fox," "messenger," "fried tofu," and "a gesture of goodwill without asking for anything."
A faint electric current seemed to flash through Takuya Nakayama's mind.
He recalled the countless small, spontaneous, and benevolent interactions with nature and all living things he had seen in animations and comics in his previous life.
If he couldn't remember the games from his previous life, he could look for inspiration in animations and comics!
The weeks of suppressed frustration and anxiety vanished at that moment. In their place surged a torrent of creative desire.
He could even imagine Hayao Miyazaki's surprised expression when he saw this proposal.
"What's wrong, Takuya? You're startling me." His grandmother was a little bewildered by his suddenly bright eyes and the uncontrollable smile on his lips. Takuya Nakayama snapped back to reality, looking at his grandmother's concerned face, the warmth in his heart almost overflowing.
He put down the asparagus, breaking into a wide, unclouded smile.
"Nothing, Grandma."
He picked up a tomato his grandmother had just washed, took a big bite, and the sweet and sour juice burst in his mouth, incredibly real.
"I just suddenly feel that the fox spirit you mentioned is truly adorable."