pjbooks Chapter 102 The Wrap-up Kiss and That Notebook
Chapter 102 The Wrap-up Kiss and That Notebook
Chapter 102 The Wrap-up Kiss and That Notebook
The platform at Kichijoji Station on the Chuo Line is probably one of the noisiest places in all of Tokyo.
The roar of trams entering the station, the departure bell, the monotonous female voice broadcasting announcements, and the chaotic sound of hundreds of pairs of leather shoes stepping on the ground all blend together to create a giant noise can.
"Attention all departments, the final scene, shot 4, one take!"
Wearing a baseball cap and holding a piece of chalk he'd picked up from somewhere, Mochizuki Tomomi drew a horizontal line in front of the monitor.
This scene is going to be a steal.
We must capture that sliver of sunset that just pierces through the platform roof and falls on the opposite side.
Kitahara Shin stood in the crowded room, his white shirt, which belonged to Togasaki Taku, was already soaked through with sweat.
He was panting, his chest heaving. He had run up and down the stairs three times to achieve that sense of realism.
This isn't acting; he's genuinely panting.
"The car's here! Get ready!"
With a distant whistle, the yellow Central Line train rushed into the platform, bringing a gust of hot air with it.
The train carriage acted like a rapidly moving iron wall, separating him from the platform opposite.
Kitahara Shin stared anxiously at the yellow car speeding past, as if searching for some lost soul.
According to the script, he was supposed to see the person on the other side the instant the car moved away.
That was the last shot of the entire movie.
It is also a reunion between Taku Morisaki and Rikako Muto after they have gone through their entire adolescence.
The train slows down, comes to a complete stop, opens the doors, closes the doors, and then starts moving again.
As the last carriage of the train roared out of sight, the platform opposite came into view.
The once crowded people dispersed, leaving only one figure standing there.
She is no longer that high school girl in a sailor uniform, covered in thorns.
Rie Miyazawa was wearing a beige long trench coat, her hair was permed into the big wavy curls that were popular among college students at that time, and she was carrying a simple leather bag.
She stood in the sunlight, looking soft, quiet, and even with a gentle warmth that comes with growing up.
Kitahara Shin was stunned.
He opened his mouth, wanting to call out that name, but it felt like there was a wad of cotton stuck in his throat, and he couldn't make a sound.
The person on the other side also saw him.
Rie didn't roll her eyes like she used to, nor did she show that "you're such a nuisance" look of disgust.
She simply looked at him quietly, and then the corners of her mouth slowly turned up.
It was a very faint smile.
Gone is the aggressive flamboyance of the past; only a sense of relief and peace remains.
She switched the handbag to her left hand, then clasped her hands together in front of her and bowed deeply to Kitahara Shin.
Her movements were precise, ladylike, and as polite as if she were treating a long-lost friend.
Kitahara Shin looked at her.
In that instant, a mix of regret, relief, and nostalgia surged through Du Qituo's mind.
The bad girl who would slap him, cry by the bathtub, and swindle him out of money to go to Tokyo has finally grown up.
He smiled too.
He put his hands in his pockets and nodded slightly to her.
There are no lines.
He didn't even say "long time no see".
The only sounds were the electronic announcement over the station's loudspeaker, "Next stop, Xidiwa," and the dust swirling in the setting sun.
it is more than words.
"Card!"
Mochizuki Tomomi threw the chalk in his hand directly into the air.
"OK! Filming wrapped!"
These two words are like some kind of spell to break a seal.
The photographer, who had been holding his breath, plopped down on the ground. The sound engineer, whose hand was trembling as he held the microphone boom, threw it to his assistant. The staff members acting as extras around them cheered instantly.
"Thanks for your hard work!"
"It's finally over!"
"Kitahara-san! Rie-chan! Thank you for your hard work!"
The assistant director rushed up carrying two huge bouquets of flowers, his face covered in sweat, but he was smiling like a blooming chrysanthemum.
Kitahara Shin accepted the flowers and thanked the staff around him with a smile. Just as he was about to turn around to find the director, his clothes were gently tugged.
He turned around.
Rie stood behind him, holding a bouquet of lilies that was bigger than her face.
She hasn't gotten out of character yet.
Or rather, at the very moment after the "filming wrapped" announcement, the line between reality and the movie is at its most blurred.
She was still wearing the trench coat that Rikako had grown up in, and her eyes still held the warmth of that moment from just now.
"senior."
She called out.
Just as Kitahara Shin was about to ask "What's wrong?", he saw Rie suddenly take a step forward.
She stood on tiptoe.
The flow of people in the station continued, and the noise persisted.
Something soft, warm, and with a hint of lily scent gently pressed against Kitahara Shin's left cheek.
Like a dragonfly skimming the water, touching and then parting.
At that moment, the staff who were packing up their equipment were stunned. Even Mochizuki Tomomi, who was bragging to the photographer, stopped talking and turned to look.
Kitahara Shinya was taken aback.
He subconsciously raised his hand and touched the spot where he had just been touched.
It's a bit hot there.
Rie has retreated to a safe distance.
Her face was flushed, a color that even foundation couldn't cover. But instead of flinching, she tilted her head back and stared intently at Kitahara Shin with her strikingly bright eyes.
In that look, half of it belonged to Rikako Muto's stubbornness, and the other half to Rie Miyazawa's impulsiveness.
"Although this scene wasn't in the script—"
Her fingers, gripping the bouquet, were slightly white. Her voice trembled, but her tone was stiff, as if trying to hide something: "But I think—Rikako is capable of doing something like this now. After all, she's a university student; there's nothing wrong with taking a little initiative, right?"
After saying that, as if seeking approval, she leaned forward again, staring into Kitahara Shin's eyes: "What do you think, senpai? This added scene, it doesn't feel out of place, does it?"
Kitahara Shin looked at her.
He didn't speak.
But the expression that had relaxed after filming wrapped up gradually softened.
He smiled and shook his head, not answering the question of whether it was "incongruous" or not. He simply reached out and gave Rie's permed, wavy head a good ruffle.
"Thank you for your hard work, Rikako."
That one "Rikako" made Rie's tense shoulders instantly collapse.
She lowered her head and buried her face in the bouquet of lilies. No one could see her expression; all they could see were her ears, which were so red they looked like they were about to bleed.
On the other side of the platform.
A tall figure wearing a baseball cap and carrying several bottles of mineral water was stiffly hiding behind a thick cement pillar.
Nanako Matsushima felt like her heart was about to jump out of her throat.
Today was supposed to be her day off.
I've been busy with a lot of work lately and haven't been able to visit the set in a long time.
Hearing that today was the last day of filming, she specially bought gifts and wanted to visit the legendary "Teacher Kitahara".
How did they perform the final scene? I also took the opportunity to learn some tricks from them.
As a result, I witnessed this scene as soon as I got onto the platform.
That kiss.
That kiss, delivered in the sunset amidst the crowds, on tiptoe.
Nanako's mind went blank.
She almost dropped the bottled water she was holding.
To avoid making a sound, she held the bottle tightly to her chest, making the plastic bottle rattle.
Her face instantly turned as red as a ripe tomato, even the base of her neck turned red.
The feeling was like when I was a child, secretly watching my parents argue, or getting caught by the teacher reading a romance novel in class.
Shame, excitement, and a strange sense of sacredness.
"Is this... is this what a professional actor is like?"
Nanako leaned against the pillar, panting heavily.
Although they were more than ten meters apart, and although I couldn't hear what they were saying, their actions, their eyes, the atmosphere—
That's so true.
It was so real that if you didn't know it was acting, you would really think it was a couple saying goodbye.
With trembling hands, Nanako pulled out the notebook she always carried from her canvas bag.
That was her "Performance Observation Diary".
The book was filled with her observations of Kitahara Shin's acting over the past few months, such as "micro-expression control of the eyes," "adjustment of breathing rhythm," and "how to act with the back view," etc.
She turned to a new page, her hands trembling so much that she had to pull the pen cap off twice before she could do so.
Make sure to write it down.
This is absolutely the most profound and essential performance secret!
While stealing glances at the two people still interacting in the distance, she scribbled rapidly on a piece of paper:
[Date: July 15, 1991, Weather: Sunny]
Location: Kichijoji Station, filming wrap-up site
[Observation subjects: Kitahara-sensei & Miyazawa Rie-san]
She paused here, bit the tip of her pen, her mind filled with the scene from just now.
Could this be the ultimate secret of "experiential learning"?
To completely transform oneself into the character, to fall in love with the actor opposite one another, and even to use a kiss as a farewell ritual for the character at the moment of wrapping up filming.
Nanako swallowed hard, feeling as if she had opened the door to a new world.
She lowered her head and wrote in bold:
[Key Finding: The Ultimate Expression of Immersion in Role]
When an actor's emotional investment reaches a critical point, the constraints of the script disappear. At this point, physical contact (including kissing on the cheek, or even more intimate acts) is no longer a simple action, but a necessary ritual!
This is to soothe the character's soul! It's an artistic sacrifice!
After writing this, she looked at the words and her face turned even redder.
Although I understand the principles (and think I do), but—
If she were to go and meet Kitahara Nobu—
Nanako imagined the scene—she tiptoed to kiss that cold, aloof face.
"Pfft"
She felt like her head was about to burst into flames.
No, no, no! Absolutely not! People will die!
At the very bottom of her notebook, she wrote a note in tiny, trembling handwriting:
[Note: Is this the only way to become a Best Actor/Actress? If I had the chance—perhaps I should try this "immersive" method.]
After writing this half-sentence, she hesitated again. The pen tip lingered on the paper for a long time, and the ink smudged, leaving a small black dot.
Finally, she added three heavy exclamation marks at the end:
But! I dare not!!!
Nanako closed the notebook and hugged it tightly to her chest like a precious treasure.
She peeked out and glanced into the distance again.
Kitahara Nobumasa helped Rie carry the bouquet of flowers, and the two walked side by side toward the exit. The setting sun cast long shadows of them.
Nanako looked at that figure from behind, her eyes filled not only with admiration but also with a deep sense of awe.
"Kitahara-san—you really sacrificed so much for art."
She sighed sincerely, and then, taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention, she grabbed a bottle of mineral water and, like a thief, quietly mingled into the group packing up the equipment.
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