Chapter 63

Chapter 63: Young People Can Be Called Out to Dance with Just One Phone Call

“World’s Strange Stories” had already gained a bit of fame at Fuji TV. Many viewers even called the station to ask about plot details or previews of the next episode.

Even Ito Shuichi had asked why they did not release previews for upcoming episodes.

“This is a small piece of ‘willfulness’ built on the premise that every episode we produce is better than the last.”

Nagayama Naoki explained, “Maybe in the future the series will become like ordinary TV dramas, but unique traits like this will deepen the audience’s memory. It makes our first season clearly different from everything that comes after.”

Simply put, it created the feeling of opening a mystery box each time, repeatedly reinforcing the impression of “World’s Strange Stories.”

Of course, this approach carried risks. If viewers disliked an episode, their impression could drop sharply.

Fortunately, audience acceptance remained high.

The first season had already reached its final three stories, and Fuji TV had signed contracts in advance for those remaining episodes.

After all nine episodes were completed, 180 million yen would be transferred into the account of Tree Friends Films. Nagayama Naoki, Ito Shuichi, and Yoshimura Daitomo, the main investors, would each receive a considerable sum.

Work during these days was filled with enthusiasm.

“Shuichi-san, Daitomo-san, let’s distribute this round of dividends at the end of September.”

What motivates employees most? Sharing profits.

“But isn’t that usually done at the end of the year?”

“You two,” Nagayama Naoki said, “year-end bonuses are for employees. Now that you’re bosses, stop thinking from an employee’s perspective.”

For bosses, profit should be taken whenever it comes.

“But Naoki-san, shouldn’t the company keep operating funds?” Yoshimura Daitomo asked. That was standard industry practice.

“Hahaha, with just the three of us, what operating capital do we need?” Nagayama Naoki laughed. “When the next project comes, we’ll simply invest again.”

In truth, the company existed mainly because of the relationship among the three of them. It had not yet developed stable business operations.

With nothing urgent to do, Nagayama Naoki finally returned to the music room in Bunkyo Ward after a long absence.

He casually picked up a stack of letters from the mailbox and opened the door, which had remained closed for more than a month.

He immediately opened the windows. Fresh air rushed in, stirring small clouds of dust.

He spent more than half an hour cleaning before he could finally sit down, smiling wryly to himself.

If he owned more properties in the future, he would probably need to hire a cleaning service regularly.

Only then did he begin reading the mail.

Most were advertisements, product catalogs, and rental notices. However, one personal letter stood out, signed by Kawai Naoko.

“The idol living next door… why would she send a letter?”

With curiosity, Nagayama Naoki opened the envelope.

The contents were simple. She wrote that her work had finished and she would soon move elsewhere. She thanked him for allowing her to look at his composition before and mentioned that she had not seen anyone visit the music room for a long time, hoping he was doing well.

In this era, maintaining contact was difficult. Chance encounters could easily disappear forever. If anything unexpected happened, this letter might become the last intersection of their lives.

That idol he had met by coincidence was surprisingly approachable.

He could not simply ignore someone’s kindness.

Nagayama Naoki decided to write a reply after returning home. Becoming pen pals did not sound bad.

Music once again echoed through the Bunkyo apartment after a long silence.

The neighbors immediately knew the owner had returned.

He usually practiced during the daytime when nearby students were at school, and distant neighbors could only hear faint melodies occasionally, so noise complaints were never a concern.

By August, Tokyo’s heat had become almost unbearable.

Yet the pace of the era did not slow. At the beginning of the month, MTV had been born, signaling a new peak for the music recording industry.

Matsuda Seiko’s “Shiroi Parasol” remained immensely popular. Walking through the streets, one could clearly see “Seiko hairstyles” everywhere.

However, Nagayama Naoki knew that before long, a newly debuted idol would rise to compete for the top position in the idol world.

Akina’s quarterly finals would not arrive until December. She was probably training intensely during this period.

Thinking about it, he realized he had not visited a disco in quite some time.

With nothing scheduled for the evening, Nagayama Naoki decided to invite Nakai Genta and Hoshino Suzumi out dancing.

“Hello, this is Nakai Genta,” came the voice on the phone. He seemed to be at home.

“Genta-san, it’s me,” Nagayama Naoki joked. “The guy who borrowed 100 million yen from you.”

“Haha, it’s you!” Nakai Genta recognized him instantly. “Suzumi, it’s Naoki!”

“Eh? Suzumi-san is there too?”

“Yes. We’re living together now.”

So they were already cohabiting.

That blessed extrovert.

“Then perfect. Genta-san, do you have plans tonight?” Nagayama Naoki asked.

“Nothing in particular. Did you organize something?”

“Not really. Just felt like going dancing.”

“Oh? To your own disco?”

“Of course. Is there a better disco in Tokyo?”

“Hahaha, then we’ll gladly enjoy Naoki-san’s hospitality.” Nakai Genta seemed to turn his head. “Suzumi, Naoki is treating us to a night out!”

Young people did not go to bed early. One phone call was enough to gather everyone for dancing.

The disco in Takadanobaba grew livelier as night fell. The line outside required at least an hour of waiting to enter.

Nagayama Naoki met the two at the entrance.

Hoshino Suzumi was also wearing a Seiko hairstyle.

“Genta-san, you’ve gotten darker again,” he greeted Nakai Genta first. “Suzumi-san, long time no see. You look even more fashionable.”

It had indeed been a while since he last saw her, though she had not changed much.

“Haha, Naoki-san is the one becoming more handsome every day.”

“Hey, don’t act like I’m invisible,” Nakai Genta interrupted. “I’m the only one running business under the blazing sun, that’s why I keep getting darker.”

“Who told you to become the bankman everyone envies?” Nagayama Naoki said as he led them through the staff entrance.

Cutting in line through the main entrance would attract too much resentment.

Inside, the atmosphere was as lively as ever.

Even the central air conditioning could not cool the heat of the dance floor, where waves of young people sweated and danced enthusiastically.

Araki Shigetomo noticed the boss had arrived and quickly approached. The owner rarely appeared, but every visit usually brought something unexpected.

“Naoki-san, you’re here.”

“Yes, Shigetomo-san. I just brought friends to dance tonight. Nothing else.”

“I understand. Then I hope you have a pleasant evening.”

Even without explicit instructions, a good subordinate knew what to do.

Araki Shigetomo guided the three to a quieter booth and ordered snacks, drinks, and cocktails for them.

No one mentioned that Nagayama Naoki was still under twenty years old.