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Chapter 158: Visiting Sunrise
🕑 Added 2025-10-22 10:15:21 +0000 UTCDays after his dinner with Director Takahashi and Yutaka Suzuki, Takuya Nakayama stood outside Bandai’s office building. Officially, he was there to check on a joint Sega-Bandai game project’s progress. The meeting dragged on, tedious as expected, with technicians debating minor details. Takuya sat at the head, smiling, offering few comments.
As it ended and attendees dispersed, Takuya stopped Bandai’s project lead, Koji Yokoi. “Yokoi-san, great work.”
“No, Executive Nakayama, you’re the one working hard,” Yokoi replied respectfully, well aware of Takuya’s industry reputation.
Walking to the elevator, Takuya chatted casually. “I’ve always been a huge Sunrise fan, especially Tomino’s work. From *Mobile Suit Gundam* to *Char’s Counterattack*, I haven’t missed a single one.” His tone carried genuine enthusiasm, free of business motives.
Yokoi, surprised, smiled. “Really? Tomino’s works are a man’s romance.”
“So,” Takuya said, a hint of longing in his eyes, “I’ve always wanted to visit Sunrise’s studio—a fan’s pilgrimage, you could say. Could you, Yokoi-san, pass my humble request to President Masanori Ito?”
Yokoi’s efficiency shone; within two days, Sunrise responded warmly, with President Ito welcoming Takuya’s visit. Days later, Takuya arrived at Sunrise’s Suginami headquarters, greeted personally by Ito and several executives—a high honor.
“President Ito, sorry to impose,” Takuya said, bowing slightly.
“Not at all, Executive Nakayama. It’s Sunrise’s privilege,” Ito replied warmly, sizing up the rising star.
In the meeting room, Takuya kept his approach humble. “To be honest, I’m here first as a fan, making a pilgrimage to my holy land. Only secondarily as a game developer, hoping to learn from Sunrise’s masters.” His earnest opening softened the formal atmosphere.
Ito’s smile grew genuine, and the executives’ expressions warmed. This young man wasn’t like the typical suit pushing business from the start. After brief pleasantries, Ito personally led Takuya through the production department. Corridor walls displayed posters from *Zambot 3* to *Wataru*, steeped in nostalgic charm.
At a cluttered office, Ito paused. “Director Tomino’s here. *Char’s Counterattack* just succeeded, so he’s got some free time.” Through the glass, a middle-aged man with sunglasses and thinning hair—Yoshiyuki Tomino, not yet “Baldy”—pored over sketches and scripts. He stood to greet them as Ito made introductions.
“Director Tomino, I’ve long admired you,” Takuya said sincerely. “Executive Nakayama, you’re quite accomplished,” Tomino replied politely but formally.
At Ito’s suggestion, Tomino took over, guiding Takuya through the studio. Amid the sound of pencils scratching paper, Takuya posed a fan’s question. “Director, why did Amuro’s final love interest in *Char’s Counterattack* switch from Beltorchika, familiar from *Zeta Gundam*, to a new character, Quess?”
Tomino’s brow twitched, his gaze drifting as if recalling something bitter. “Hard to explain,” he said vaguely, hinting at creative compromises. Takuya, sensing the mood, deftly shifted topics, pointing to a *Mobile Suit Gundam 0080: War in the Pocket* sketch. “I heard you’re not directing this OVA—such a shame. But the setup suggests Bernie and Chris’s meeting will be a tragic, brutal tale.”
Tomino’s expression softened, impressed by Takuya’s insight. As they walked, Takuya mused aloud, “It’s tough when management meddles in creation.” He chuckled self-deprecatingly. “Like with my *Pokémon* digital pet—some core fun elements nearly got cut due to clueless execs. Luckily, my ‘deep background’ let me fight for them.” He looked at Tomino earnestly. “The ideal partnership sets the creative and profit framework upfront, then trusts creators to shine. Mid-project meddling risks ruining great work, and if it fails, creators take the blame. That’s unfair.”
His words struck Tomino’s core, resonating with past frustrations. Tomino’s gaze shifted—no longer seeing a corporate suit but a kindred spirit who understood creators. The tour ended, and Takuya returned to Ito’s office, where Ito poured Shizuoka gyokuro tea.
As tea’s aroma filled the air, Ito cut to the chase. “Executive Nakayama, this visit isn’t just a pilgrimage, is it?”
Takuya set down his cup, leaning forward. “President Ito, I’ll be frank. On behalf of Sega, I’d like to propose a symbolic acquisition of a small stake in Sunrise.” His tone was sincere, the air briefly tensing.
Ito’s hand paused midair, surprise flashing in his eyes. Ignoring the pressure, Takuya continued. “This isn’t about interfering with Sunrise’s independence or creative freedom—we’d need only a minimal share. It’s to streamline future collaborations, making them direct and smooth.” He met Ito’s gaze. “Sega’s a major player. Routing every IP deal through Bandai’s layers of approvals is inefficient and undermines Sunrise’s industry stature. It also lowers Sega’s dignity. Occasional deals are fine, but long-term? That’s untenable.”
His words balanced critique with respect, elevating Sunrise’s status to Sega’s equal. “A direct equity link clears these hurdles and gives Sunrise’s IPs access to Sega’s robust, diverse monetization channels, especially in games, where our development strength can maximize their value.”
Ito fell silent, rubbing the warm teacup, digesting the bold proposal. He agreed with Takuya’s vision—Sega’s game development and global distribution far outstripped Bandai’s. After a long pause, he set down the cup, looking at Takuya gravely. “I personally support your proposal, Executive Nakayama. But a share transfer is significant—I must consult other shareholders and can’t reply now.”
“I understand,” Takuya said, smiling. His main goal was achieved. “I’ll await your good news.”
