Makoto Yamashina slowly opened his palm. Under the glimring light of the chandelier, the words on the small note beca clear.
It contained a few neat lines in English, followed by a Japanese annotation:
[Arican Society for Testing and Materials (ASTM), Standard PS72-76: Focus on risks of choking hazards from small toy parts for young children.]
Then another line followed:
[ASTM F963-86 Standard: Mandatory Age Classification Requirents. Clearly marked 'Not for children under 3 years old,' with detailed physical safety testing standards for different age groups, including torque, tension, and impact tests.]
Yamashina's eyes sharpened.
He wasn't from a technical background, but as the president of Bandai, he instantly understood the true weight behind this piece of paper.
This wasn't so casual suggestion—it was a ready-made professional guide! A docunt capable of silencing both the bureaucrats at the Ministry of Trade and Industry and the loudest critics in the dia.
What Takuya Nakayama had handed him earlier wasn't just a "knife" for self-regulation—this was an entire sword manual.
With these internationally recognized, market-proven industry standards from across the ocean as their blueprint, Japan's toy industry could now form a credible grading system—not built on fantasy, but on proven data and legitimate precedent.
They could even make it more precise, better suited to Japan's context!
Monts ago, he had been worrying—how should the industry define self-regulation?
Who would set the standards? Too lenient, and it would be aningless. Too strict, and it would kill their own market.
Now, Nakayama had quietly placed the perfect answer in his hand.
"President?" One of Bandai's directors, noticing his shifting expression, couldn't help but ask.
Yamashina clenched the note so tightly that his palm began to sweat, nearly soaking the paper through.
He looked up, eyes blazing.
This—this was power. Authority. Influence.
Why had Takuya Nakayama co to him, and not to Takara's president, or Sanrio's CEO?
Because Sega—or rather, that calm, unassuming young man—was handing him, Makoto Yamashina, and Bandai, the leadership seat of the entire Toy Industry Self-Regulation Association!
And the price?
The price was simple: Bandai had to be the first to step up, wave the banner high, and execute this plan flawlessly.
What a grand move. What a terrifyingly brilliant young man.
"Call in Mr. Sato from Takara and President Hori from Sanrio," Yamashina said in a low but commanding tone. "Tell them this: Bandai will lead the developnt of the toy industry's grading standards. I already have a plan."
"Yes, sir!"
He took a deep breath, glancing toward the distance.
There stood Takuya Nakayama, chatting easily with the manga executives, smiling as if the whole storm were nothing but a chess ga—and he was the one quietly redrawing the map of a new world atop the ruins.
The old Showa-era businessn were still stuck in their defensive ntality—thinking about survival, about huddling together and pretending not to see the danger.
But this young man… he was already designing the architecture of the post-crisis era.
"Sega… the Nakayama family…" Yamashina murmured, eyes gleaming with both awe and excitent. "That's one hell of a favor they just handed us."
And Bandai—would gladly accept it.
---
The conference at the New Otani Hotel had barely ended when the winds of public opinion across Japan suddenly shifted.
That sa evening, during pri-ti news broadcasts, viewers were stunned to see a subtle change in tone across all major TV stations.
No longer were ani, manga, and gas lumped together with the "perverted murderer" narrative. Instead, broadcasters began inserting a new developnt—joint statents from Toei, Shueisha, Sega, Bandai, and dozens of other industry giants.
They publicly and firmly condemned all forms of child pornography and announced the formation of an independent self-regulatory organization, along with plans to establish a national content rating system and embrace governnt oversight proactively.
But to certain predators already sharpening their knives in the dia—this looked like nothing more than their prey's final struggle.
The next day, the backlash ca roaring.
Yomiuri Shimbun's editorial page scread with a headline:
"Too Little, Too Late—Is This 'Self-Regulation' True Repentance or Just a PR Stunt?"
The article questioned the credibility of "self-supervision," stirring public distrust and calling for direct governnt intervention to conduct a "thorough purge" of the industry.
On Fuji TV's morning show, a so-called social comntator slamd his fist on the desk:
"So the thieves form a neighborhood watch—and that proves they're innocent? This so-called self-regulation is nothing but a shield to dodge real scrutiny!"
Within hours, phrases like "Self-managent isn't managent" and "The industry is protecting its own criminals" spread like wildfire.
---
At Sega headquarters, President Hayao Nakayama turned off the TV.
The image of the furious comntator vanished, leaving the office in silence—just the reflection of father and son in the dark screen.
He glanced at Takuya. "The dia's hitting harder than our projections. Are all the next steps in motion?"
Takuya Nakayama was calmly rinsing a tea set. His movents were smooth, unhurried, almost ditative.
"Yes." He poured out the first wash of tea, then refilled the pot, pouring a cup for his father and one for himself.
"Let them shout," he said softly. "The louder they yell, the better."
He lifted his cup, gently blowing away the steam.
"The more they curse us, the more they build our stage for free. They're gathering all of Japan's attention for us. When we finally unveil the curtain… their faces will be priceless."
Hayao Nakayama took a slow sip, silent—but inwardly, he knew.
If his son spoke like this, there was always another move coming.
"Public opinion is like a spring," Takuya said with a faint smile, setting his cup down. "The harder you push it down, the stronger it rebounds."
"Our public statent was step one—showing our intent to change. They didn't believe it, so they attacked us—that's step two. Stirring up the chaos."
He paused, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Now it's ti for step three."
"Mr. Toshio Suzuki from Studio Ghibli just called," he continued. "Director Miyazaki's interview with NHK has already been recorded. It airs tomorrow at noon."
---
And indeed, the following day—NHK's flagship noon news show aired an exclusive interview with Hayao Miyazaki.
On screen, the legendary animator looked tired but fierce—his eyes burning with conviction.
"I don't know how that demon fell so far," he said, voice trembling slightly.
"But in his collection, you won't find my works."
"My films do not contain filth, vulgarity, or anything disgusting."
"I am a creator. My words are my works."
"In our industry, there are those who corrupt it—but there are also those among us who bear responsibility to society."
"We welco scrutiny and criticism. But please—judge us by our creations, not by a criminal who shares nothing with us but a dium."
Every word struck like thunder.
It was as though a surge of pure, clean air had swept through the murky swamp of public outrage.
That afternoon, NHK's phone lines exploded with calls. Viewers from across Japan voiced their support:
"He's right! You can't destroy My Neighbor Totoro and Castle in the Sky just because of one lunatic!"
"At least the industry dares to face the problem head-on! Better than those lazy tax-sucking politicians!"
The tide of public opinion began to shift.
But for Takuya Nakayama, this was still only the beginning.
Sega's initiative had lit the signal fire. One by one, new self-regulatory councils for ani, manga, gas, and toys were officially established—each unveiling charters, mission statents, and operational rules across Japan's newspapers.
Bandai even released an early prototype of its new grading system—based directly on the ASTM F963-86 standard from the U.S., the very sa mandatory safety classification rule.
Its clear structure and international credibility won over both regulators and the public alike.
Yet—this was still not the end of Takuya's grand strategy.
This was only the opening act of his "dia War."
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