Three minutes before the movie began, in the back row of a theater in Tokyo, Kitagawa Ryo was explaining the differences between method acting and representationalism to Hoshino Ai.
"In method acting, if an actor doesn't truly feel the emotions they're portraying, they're nothing more than a skilled mechanic. They're just turning wheels and winding springs to make the puppet they're playing seem more lifelike."
Because he was wearing a mask, Kitagawa Ryo had to awkwardly stuff popcorn into his mouth through the gap. However, as the lights in the auditorium dimmed and only the glow from the screen remained, he sighed in relief and pulled his mask up halfway, leaving only his mouth exposed to make eating the popcorn easier.
"As the name suggests, method acting is about experiencing the role. You must live in the character's environment, think, hope, desire, and act just as the character would—logically and authentically, like a real person."
"Only after reaching this point can an actor truly connect with the role they're playing, begin to feel what the character feels, and move the audience."
Hoshino Ai nodded thoughtfully.
"So, Ryo, did you use method acting in this movie?"
"Yeah."
Kitagawa Ryo glanced at the audience in the front rows, who were still chatting and laughing. He couldn't help but feel that the marketing for this movie might have gone in the wrong direction. A film that was far from family-friendly had been scheduled for the New Year's season, giving off the vibe of luring people in only to break their hearts.
The plot of the movie, titled He Once Lived, was simple: it told the story of a young boy battling a severe illness. Initially, it was a public service project organized by the Red Cross, aimed at raising awareness for cancer patients and other vulnerable groups.
Kitagawa Ryo had taken on the lead role at the suggestion of his manager, Mr. Izaki. He had risen to fame too quickly in the past two years, and participating in this kind of film would not only allow him to grow as an actor but also help build a positive public image by showing his commitment to social causes.
Since the movie had just been released, most of the audience members were Kitagawa Ryo's dedicated fans. In fact, over the past few days, he had already seen posts on forums about fan-organized screenings across the country.
Hope they'll be okay.
Kitagawa Ryo silently wished his loyal fans the best.
The version of him in this movie was far from the "Kitagawa Ryo who could make everyone laugh in ten seconds."
In a hospital room in Miyazaki Prefecture, Gorou Amamiya and Tendouji Sarina were gathered around a computer, watching the DVD Kitagawa Ryo had sent them.
Technically, leaking such resources before the movie's theatrical run wasn't allowed. But as the lead actor, Kitagawa Ryo had requested two copies of the initial cut for personal collection, and the production team couldn't refuse.
As long as Gorou Amamiya and Sarina didn't publicize this, there would be no negative consequences.
In other words, Kitagawa Ryo's gesture was also a sign of trust in their integrity.
Tendouji Sarina stared at the screen, where Kitagawa Ryo appeared. The movie was nearing its end, and Gorou Amamiya had already gone through an entire box of tissues.
From the middle of the film onward, Kitagawa Ryo's performance had shattered the emotional defenses of Gorou Amamiya, a rookie doctor. Even though he had seen himself in one of the scenes, he had no desire to talk about it. His glasses were discarded on the table, as it didn't matter whether he wore them or not—his vision was blurred either way.
After spending his last penny and being abandoned by his parents, the protagonist could no longer stay in the hospital and had to return to the basement he rented.
Two days passed, and as if realizing something, he struggled to make a phone call to someone.
About an hour later, a faint knocking sound came from the door.
With great effort, he got up to open the door. Standing there was an elderly woman in her seventies, her face deeply lined with wrinkles. She hunched over, carrying a faded backpack that had been washed so many times its color was almost gone. The only thing of value on her was an instant camera hanging around her neck.
She was a familiar stranger to the people living in this area. Most of the residents in these dark, damp basements were elderly people with no one to care for them or patients who had given up on treatment to avoid burdening their families. Their unique needs had given rise to this peculiar profession.
"You're the youngest one I've seen in the past two days."
The old woman sighed, her lips pursed. She helped Kitagawa Ryo back to his bed, then set down her backpack and pulled out a backdrop painted with lush green mountains, clear blue skies, and white clouds. The green was vibrant, and the blue was refreshing.
The vast sea seemed to flow over the child's arm, as if white waves were about to splash out at any moment.
For the people here, their final days were often spent lying in bed, staring at gray ceilings. So, even if it was fake, the old woman wanted them to see these scenes one last time.
"Sit up straight."
The old woman gave a smile that wasn't exactly pleasant—some might even find it unsettling—and motioned for Kitagawa Ryo to sit in the center of the backdrop.
"Can you smile? Yes, that's it. You look so beautiful when you smile."
"What a beautiful child."
"Look straight ahead."
Feeling that something was still off, the old woman thought for a moment, then pulled out a white sun hat from her backpack. She walked over and placed it on Kitagawa Ryo's head.
The brim of the hat had golden, plastic-like ribbons.
"There we go."
The old woman grinned, her toothless mouth showing, and returned to her camera.
With a flash, the photo was instantly printed.
"Keep it. If you want to use it soon, that's fine. But if you don't, then live a long and healthy life."
After packing up the backdrop, the old woman turned back before leaving and said this.
She had taken many family portraits for free. Some people wanted to die quickly, while others wanted to live longer. Since she didn't know each person's wishes, she always ended with this phrase.
"Thank you."
Kitagawa Ryo held the photo and thanked her. Only after the door clicked shut did he stagger back to his bed.
He turned to his side, gazing at the portrait of himself.
It was as if he were looking at his own death.
His pale, bloodless face wore a sunny smile. The sun hat on his head and the backdrop of dazzling blue skies, white clouds, golden sand, and azure sea made it seem as if he were on a vacation on some island.
To an uninformed observer, the boy in the photo might appear to be enjoying a holiday.
Kitagawa Ryo tucked the photo under his pillow.
On the script page for this scene, he had written a note:
"For a patient, is there a sound when sleep turns into death?"
In the dark silence, the camera zoomed in.
Following the assistant director Taishi Gotanda's suggestion, the final scene of the movie was left entirely to Kitagawa Ryo's acting.
Fingertips, pupils, lips, breath, chest…
Every subtle, unconscious movement.
It felt as if all thought had been abandoned. The audience could only focus on him, watching in awe as the final brilliance of life unfolded before them.
Or rather, its final movements.
Then, movement turned to stillness.
"He acted so well… Ryo."
Tendouji Sarina murmured almost inaudibly. She smiled, hugging her knees as if trying to etch this memory deep into her mind.
Kitagawa Ryo could hear the soft sobs from the audience in the front rows. He turned to look at Hoshino Ai beside him, curious about her reaction.
But before he could fully turn his head, he felt Hoshino Ai's hand grasp his. Her palm wasn't warm; instead, it felt cool and slightly clammy.
Hoshino Ai didn't consider her tears to be particularly valuable. She had cried countless times during her childhood, when her mother had treated her harshly. Back then, the warmth in her eyes couldn't overcome the bone-chilling cold she felt when locked outside in winter.
Still, she was good at crying. Especially after learning representationalism from Kitagawa Ryo, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say that Hoshino Ai could control her tear ducts like a faucet, turning them on and off at will.
But now, Hoshino Ai felt that tears were the most precious thing in the world. It was as if each drop that fell carried a piece of her life force with it, each one causing a sharp pain in her heart—a sensation she had never experienced before.
For Hoshino Ai, tears were just another tool of the body. The tears she shed as a child were merely proof of her fear, signals sent to her mother in hopes of mercy, because doing nothing would only lead to harsher treatment.
Hoshino Ai sat there, her lips pressed together until they turned white, biting down and tightening the corners of her eyes to prevent more of those glistening drops from falling, to stop them from washing away anything else.
She thought to herself that she really did hate method acting.
As expected, He Once Lived became a blockbuster. Trends related to the film skyrocketed to the top of Twitter's hot topics the day after its release. Countless viewers called it the most heartbreaking New Year's experience of their lives, but after crying and complaining, they still couldn't help but recommend it to others.
Kitagawa Ryo's box office appeal and the film's high praise drew even more casual viewers to the theaters. What had started as a public service project quickly surpassed the box office earnings of many commercial films. Miyazaki Prefecture, where the movie was filmed, seized the opportunity to release a new tourism promotional video, proudly turning several filming locations into tourist attractions to draw visitors during the New Year holiday.
Despite the unexpected inclusion of such a tearjerker in this year's New Year's lineup, people still exchanged New Year's greetings and gifts. Children busied themselves chasing the latest trends, pondering what gifts to give to their crushes in exchange for a sweet smile. Adults flaunted their achievements from the past year, converting them into new clothes, shoes, cars, or houses to show off.
Year after year, everyone followed the same routine, as if waking up on the first morning of the new year would magically transform their lives into the shining, dreamlike outcomes they desired.
Amid the joy of the entire film crew, He Once Lived surpassed 10 billion yen at the box office within a month of its release, nearly reaching the ceiling for low-budget films.
On major forums, Kitagawa Ryo's acting received widespread acclaim, with professional critics even commenting that it felt "as if he had truly experienced death."
At the same time, due to the pitifully frail image he portrayed in the film, Kitagawa Ryo topped the "Most Wanted Child Star to Be a Mother To" poll at the end of January.
It seemed like everything was moving in a positive direction. After their movie outing, Hoshino Ai appeared unchanged. Her work with the idol group B-Komachi was progressing steadily, and she was beginning to gather her first wave of fans and popularity. She still came to the LALALAI Theater three times a week to learn acting from Kitagawa Ryo.
For Kitagawa Ryo, the worst news after the New Year was the worsening condition of Tendouji Sarina, who had been moved to the intensive care unit.
And at this very moment, his adoptive father summoned him back home.
Kitagawa Tomoko was nearly eight months pregnant and had been admitted to the best hospital in Tokyo to await her due date. During this sensitive period, Kitagawa Ryo had deliberately avoided communicating with his adoptive parents.
When he finally sat down in front of his adoptive father, he was met with this statement:
"I've already contacted a TV station. Next month, they'll air exclusive behind-the-scenes footage of He Once Lived during their evening program."
"What footage?"
Kitagawa Ryo frowned. While some film productions released behind-the-scenes content to boost popularity, Kitagawa Susumu wasn't part of the crew. What exclusive footage could he possibly have?
"Of course, it's from your time in Miyazaki Prefecture. You know how much praise your acting has been getting online. This is the perfect time to capitalize on the hype—"
"I don't agree."
Before Kitagawa Susumu could finish, Kitagawa Ryo stood up.
"Your guardian and her guardian have both agreed."
The man remained seated, unmoving. As a former theater actor, he had a decent appearance, but to Kitagawa Ryo, he seemed more like a shiny apple that was rotten to the core.
In the midst of this tense silence, both Kitagawa Ryo's and Kitagawa Susumu's phones rang sharply.
Kitagawa Ryo pulled out his phone. It was a call from Gorou Amamiya. After Sarina's condition had taken a turn for the worse, he had exchanged contact information with Gorou Amamiya.
"Sarina… Sarina seems to be fading."
The sound of hurried footsteps could be heard as Gorou Amamiya shouted into the phone. The news left Kitagawa Ryo's mind blank.
"Tomoko's going into labor! Come with me to the hospital!"
On the other side, Kitagawa Susumu cursed, complaining about why it had to be a premature birth, and tried to drag Kitagawa Ryo out the door.
"I'm going to Miyazaki."
"Are you out of your mind?"
Kitagawa Susumu pointed at his adoptive son's nose and yelled:
"I'm telling you, there's already a crowd of reporters outside the hospital. If you don't show up there today, tomorrow a dozen tabloids will turn this into a scandal!"
His voice was so loud that even Gorou Amamiya on the phone could hear it clearly.
Ignoring his adoptive father's outburst, Kitagawa Ryo continued speaking to Gorou Amamiya:
"How is she now? It takes ninety minutes to fly from Tokyo to Miyazaki. If I book a ticket now, I should be there in three hours."
"…Will it be in time?"
He didn't even ask if Sarina's parents had arrived. After hearing Kitagawa Susumu say that "her guardian has agreed," Kitagawa Ryo had already given up on that possibility.
The footsteps on the other end of the line stopped.
"…She didn't make it."
Gorou Amamiya's bitter voice came through the phone.
Kitagawa Ryo had depicted death many times in movie scripts, making him something of a theoretical expert on the subject. But in this moment, he truly understood what it felt like to lose someone close to him.
In a daze, Kitagawa Ryo was shoved into a car by Kitagawa Susumu. The car quickly arrived at the hospital. As Kitagawa Susumu had said, reporters were already waiting nearby, as any news related to Kitagawa Ryo was highly valuable.
The rest of the Kitagawa family, including Kitagawa Susumu's friends, were waiting outside the operating room. Toshirou Kindaichi was also there. Seeing Kitagawa Ryo's complicated expression, he assumed the boy was unsure how to handle the situation and stepped forward to pat his shoulder reassuringly.
In the tense and anxious atmosphere, the door to the operating room opened again.
"Mother and child are both safe. It's a girl."
After the doctor's announcement, Kitagawa Susumu was swarmed with congratulations.
Everyone knew that having a child of his own blood had always been his dream. No matter how outstanding Kitagawa Ryo was, he could never compare to the bond of blood.
People didn't know what the future held for the newborn, but they still said, "Congratulations, congratulations."
Just as people didn't know what lay beyond death, but still said, "What a pity," when someone passed away.
When Tendouji Sarina—no, Kitagawa Ruby—opened her eyes again, she saw two familiar faces that she couldn't quite place at first.
"We'll name her Ruby, spelled 'Ruby.' I've had this name in mind for a long time!"
The man declared loudly.
Ruby, meaning "red gemstone," was the most precious gem, the most precious gift, that he and his wife had received from the heavens.
"Kitagawa Ruby… Kitagawa Ruby, what a lovely name!"
Someone nearby chimed in.
Hearing the familiar surname, Tendouji Sarina—no, Kitagawa Ruby—finally realized where the sense of familiarity came from.
She had, of course, seen photos of her favorite idol's adoptive parents.
So, where was Ryo? Ryo, Ryo, Ryo, where was he?
Wide-eyed, Kitagawa Ruby tried to find him.
"By the way, why isn't the baby crying?"
Someone suddenly asked this question, and the previously joyous atmosphere dissipated somewhat. A man at the edge of the crowd, eager to please, prepared to leave and find a doctor.
As he stepped aside, Kitagawa Ryo, who had been standing at the very back, came into view.
Unlike the others, Kitagawa Ryo wasn't concerned with what was happening in the delivery room. He simply looked out the window at the evening sky.
The sunset was as red as blood, staining everything in its glow.
Then, as if noticing the commotion, he turned his head and glanced inside.
It was a look Ruby had never seen on Kitagawa Ryo's face before.
Cold and indifferent.
Finally, she let out a loud wail.
And so, everyone rejoiced.
They collectively sighed in relief and hurriedly offered their congratulations once more.
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Hey everyone,I wanted to take a moment to share some important news with you all:
1️⃣ Chapter Upload Schedule: I plan to start uploading 5 chapters per week, but this will kick in once I've finished uploading the initial 20 chapters. So stay tuned!
2️⃣ Why the Updates Are Slow: I know some of you are eagerly waiting for more chapters. The slower pace is because I'm focused on delivering the best possible quality. I want you to truly enjoy the story, not just rush through it. Thanks for your patience—remember, the fruit of patience is always sweet. 🍎
3️⃣ Thinking About a Patreon: I'm also considering launching a Patreon soon for those who want to support the novel and maybe get some early access or exclusive perks. I'll share more details on that later!
Thanks as always for your support! 💖