"When is the next episode?" Nakayama Miyuki asked, still wanting more. "This kind of show never gets old, no matter how many times you watch it."
"Next Sunday," Nakayama Takuya replied with a smile.
He knew this program's explosive popularity was already a nail hammered into the board.
First thing tomorrow morning, the phones in Nakagawa Jun's office would probably be blown up by those advertising vendors.
More importantly, through this window, he had successfully planted a positive set of values into the subconscious of Japanese society.
In an era when the great infrastructure boom had ended and the tide of unemployment was beginning to show, what people needed was not some grand narrative, but a corner that could shelter them from wind and rain, filled with warmth.
Eri leaned against Takuya's shoulder, her emotions gradually settling.
She stroked her belly and said softly, "When this child is born, let's rearrange the house too, all right? I want to leave them more room to play."
"All right. I'll listen to you," Nakayama Takuya answered gently.
At TV Tokyo's headquarters in Roppongi, at this hour on ordinary days, only the security guards on duty and a few directors who had stayed up all night would be wandering the corridors.
But today, the offices of the copyright department and the advertising department had lit up early.
The fax machines hummed one after another, like an overloaded motor.
Nakagawa Jun sat in the president's office, a cup of espresso that had already gone completely cold placed in front of him.
He had not touched that coffee. What he clutched in his hand was a preliminary ratings report that had just been delivered by the Video Research survey company.
The average rating in the Kanto region was 18.4%.
In the Japanese television industry of