Nintendo Headquarters, Kyoto.
Hiroshi Yamauchi sat behind his wide desk, fingers absently tapping the surface, his gaze fixed on the window. The courtyard's bamboo swayed in the breeze, rustling softly, shadows dancing. The office was steeped in quiet, broken only by the faint sound of flipping papers.
"Tetris…" he began, his voice low but carrying undeniable weight, "it's stirring something different in the arcades."
A subordinate stood respectfully nearby, promptly handing over a neatly bound market report, the pages rustling faintly.
"President, this is the latest data from major Akihabara arcades," the subordinate said, voice clear and cautious. "The proportion of female players has risen significantly, particularly around Tetris."
"Details," Yamauchi said, his eyes still on the window, as if weighing something.
The subordinate didn't hesitate. "Typically, female customers made up less than 10% of arcade visitors, and the environment was noisy and chaotic. But this past week, feedback from key arcades shows that figure exceeding 20% on average. At Sega's major game centers, it's nearing 40% during peak hours. Many managers report seeing groups of young women, even office workers in professional attire, heading straight for Tetris during afternoon tea or evening hours."
Yamauchi's tapping fingers paused. "Forty percent?" he repeated, his tone ambiguous—question or confirmation.
"Yes, President. Moreover, Tetris's coin-in rate far surpasses any other game from the same period, with machines rarely idle. One manager jokingly said they're collecting coins until their hands ache. Notably, it's also boosting play rates for older games. Some female players, while waiting or after playing, try simpler nearby games."
"Hmm…" Yamauchi finally looked at the report, flipping through it swiftly, his sharp eyes probing the numbers for deeper insights. The charts clearly showed a steep upward curve and shifts in female player demographics by time.
As he studied the data, his mind raced. The female market? In arcades? It clashed with his image of smoke-filled, sweat-soaked, testosterone-driven spaces. But the numbers didn't lie. What did this sudden surge mean? A fleeting fad or a new growth point?
"These… 'new customers,' how do they respond to other games, like our Donkey Kong or fighting and shooting titles?"
"Observations suggest they're generally uninterested in complex or highly competitive games. They prefer intuitive rules and self-challenging score-based games like Tetris. Its social aspect is also notable—not direct competition, but friends comparing scores or cheering each other on."
"Boosting older games' play rates?" Yamauchi's finger rested on a chart, his brow twitching slightly, eyes returning to the steep curve.
The subordinate stepped forward. "Yes, President. Unexpectedly, many male customers, rarely arcade-goers, are brought by their girlfriends playing Tetris."
Yamauchi's eyebrow rose, a mix of surprise and expectation. He set the report down, leaning back, hands clasped over his stomach, gazing at his subordinate with interest, awaiting more.
The subordinate cleared his throat and continued, "Arcade managers report young couples visiting together. The women, clearly there for Tetris, are skilled, like veterans. Their boyfriends might start by watching or playing claw machines, but as the women get absorbed, they're pulled in to try. You know men—they want to show off in front of their girlfriends."
He paused, gauging Yamauchi's reaction before continuing. "As a result, men uninterested in arcades are trying simpler classics like Pac-Man or Breakout. Some managers even say guys secretly practice these old games to impress their girlfriends with a 'surprise' next time."
Yamauchi's lips pursed, pondering. This "side effect" was unexpected—studying Tetris's female player trend had unintentionally revealed a revival of older games.
His fingers tapped rhythmically, and after a moment, he looked up, his gaze sharp as a hawk's. "How long can this trend last?"
The question was calm but carried an undeniable authority.
The subordinate hesitated, answering cautiously, "It's still gaining momentum, but long-term effects are uncertain. The arcade market is unpredictable."
Yamauchi set the report down, leaning back, falling silent. Only the rustle of bamboo leaves outside remained. He thought of the portable console in development… If this appeal could extend to home and personal devices…
He snorted, a hint of dismissal on his face.
"Just some parlor tricks."
"Keep monitoring," he said, his tone steady again. "Expand to major arcades in Osaka and Nagoya. I want detailed reports—player age groups, dwell times, and their engagement with other game types. Report any anomalies immediately."
He placed the report on the desk, leaning back, his gaze deep.
"Female players… they'll still be shut out by consoles."
"Their gaming needs differ entirely from male players."
"They won't buy into fighting and killing."
"The core players will always dictate the gaming market."
He paused, his tone resolute.
"Nintendo's foundation lies in consoles, our own games, and the vast core player base."
"Sega's fleeting success with Tetris won't shake our position."
Sega Headquarters.
Marketing head Suzuki strode into Takuya's office, beaming.
"Takuya-san, great news!"
His voice trembled with excitement.
Takuya looked up, a hopeful smile forming. "Suzuki-san, things went well?"
Suzuki nodded vigorously, his tone elated. "After relentless efforts, our marketing team secured meetings with Director Shutaro Oba and Masami Kurumada-sensei!"
"Really?" Takuya's eyes lit up, a trace of surprise in his voice. "That's fantastic! Suzuki-san, your team is incredible!"
Suzuki, with a hint of pride, said, "Takuya-san, you have no idea how tough it was to align their schedules. Director Oba just wrapped up an animation collaboration, freeing up, but Kurumada-sensei's still serializing manga. It took everything we had to get this chance."
"I know it wasn't easy," Takuya said sincerely. "On behalf of Team 3, thank you and the marketing team for your hard work!"
"It's our honor to serve you, Takuya-san," Suzuki replied, waving modestly.
"What's the specific time and place?" Takuya asked.
"Next Tuesday, 3 p.m., at Tatsunoko Studio in Musashino City," Suzuki answered.
"Great, I'll be there on time," Takuya nodded, eyes full of anticipation. "Suzuki-san, this meeting is critical. We need to be fully prepared."
"Rest assured, Takuya-san," Suzuki said, chest puffed out, voice firm. "Marketing will fully support to ensure this meeting's success!"