Chapter Text
The clouds waver as the orange sky changes into darkness. The raven headed man ponder as he looked at the train station ad. The sign is big and long accompanying the hallway, it is very simple nobody even took a glance at it and yet he remained in that bustling passage.
"This is getting ridiculous, 6 months without any acting job is making me insane." He can feel people looking at him there, everyone are in a hurry to leave yet he took some time to look at the ad:
The country needs you!
Targeted
22 May
Get the tickets!
"Like hell…"
Within the picture there are two soldiers pointing at the viewers, one has its gun behind while holding the sling and the other one gave a stern look to the viewers. It probably looks intimidating on passing children.
That bleak nostalgic sensation gave shiver upon his spine, the beaming lights of the train station didn't help his situation either. Something resurfaced on his eyes, an aching pain behind it as if migraine starting to form.
He closed his eyes to feel a little bit of comfort, compared to the other two the left eye throbbed intensely. He gave a little rub around it, searching for comfort from an invincible pain. He tore his gaze from the advertisement and walked on. The eyes on the ad seemed to linger on his back long after he'd passed it. He refused to turn around.
As he tried to distract himself, someone slammed into his shoulder hard enough to jolt him back a step. While he fumbled a man apologized profusely at him and bowed his head simultaneous, and proceed bolt away. It's past office hours, people are aiming to go home before the train got packed.
Ogata wasn't there for the same reason, that day he only head out to get something and wandered aimlessly for the past hours. That advertisement is just putting salt in the wound. His last job was a few months ago, Tsurumi gave him a role in his movie, he forgot the title but it involve three noun that are connected to the main three gunslingers moral views.
Three gunslingers learn that a fortune in stolen Confederate gold has been buried in a cemetery.
Who will win the three-way duel in the circular cemetery?
He is really fond of his last job. Getting his grip upon those classic revolvers are free blessings for him, the smell of iron whenever he accidentally rub his arm against it, and the carving on the wooden handle are beautifully hand made.
Even if some of them are just replicas of the real ones these are impressive works from the prop team. The sensation is quite electrifying whenever it recoil against him even if they fire blanks; he hope he can steal one and get it into his collection.
They were quite generous for the payment. It manages to let him survive for the past few months, it's getting thinner by the day and he's been searching for a new role. The acting business are not kind to beginner actors, most people want the safe space of experienced actors.
Whenever he thought he was able to secure one job, he'll then get the news that he was rejected or nothing at all. Having told that being an actor is having a nice and rich life is an overrated statement and they never told you there are prices to be paid.
You're just dooming yourself if you came into the industry without any knowledge or connection; it's like trying to find needle within a haystack, he wouldn't recommend this career for people who likes a stable life.
The station speaker chimed as it announce the train arrival, with a mechanical hiss, the train car doors slid apart, the black haired man adjusted his scarf as he scrolled through his phone.
A notification pass through his phone, it's Yuusaku. As he entered the car, people rushed in and trying to find a seat, fortunately he found one at the end of the carriage a bit further from where he entered.
'Usami told me you've been working at Headshot, is that true?'
"That child…" ever since he was introduced to Yuusaku as his older brother, he can never leave him be.
He's too friendly and it pains Ogata in the butt, the constant nagging and lack of personal space can be really irritating, Yuusaku feels like those people who goes next to you even though the other urinals are empty.
'So what, I like that place.'
Ogata slick his hair back, his job can be draining at times and finding that shooting range was the least he can do to ease his worry.
He found Headshot over 2 years ago, shooting in that spacious arena accompanied with the sound of sharp crack splitting the silence will always settled something inside. He usually come and aim immediately for the firearms and go home.
'Want me to hit you up with director Tsurumi again? He's making another movie :O'
"Already?" His last role was thanks of Yuusaku connection to him. He was quite eccentric for a director, and his ambitious method for using practical effects is not very common in modern filming.
He doesn't know him personally but seeing how he works he seems to aim for being one of the prestigious director out there. Some suspicion grew on Tsurumi but surely this feels like a race than a slow build up that he's doing right now.
As much as he enjoyed working with him, he still have some dignity to upheld. He is also a good friend with that man and the last thing he wanted to do was meeting him in the middle of the set again.
He suddenly remembered something, It's been 6 months since Tsurumi filming wrapped, the movie full trailer should be out by now and in the span of 2-3 months the movie should've been released.
'Don't bother. I'll manage.'
As he closed the phone he furrowed his brow as Usami crossed his mind, that bastard has a loose tongue, the next time he sees him he'll make sure his mouth is choking with shiitake mushroom and wasabi.
One thing he knew for certain was that if he accepted the offer, he'd be seeing Tsukushima, Koito, and Usami again—his golden boys. He was bound to run into them on set. The very people he'd been avoiding like the plague. It's true that he used to talk with Usami, but at this point it was all for pleasantries, you don't want the wrong people bad mouthing you. Not only that, him and Koito fought during his last film, meeting Tsukushima is also not a choice if they're always glued together.
He sighed, and wondered whether there are any callback from the casting office. Those thoughts was interrupted by the sound of train stopping, as he checked it's already the station he's aiming to stop at. As he stood up, bunch of other people were also walking towards the exit. Their shoulders and elbows brushed against him. However one stood out, it felt less aggressive. He turned his head to where that faint brush came from.
"Excuse me sir, I'm an artist and I drew you." A girl stopped him and handed him a sheet of paper. It was a full-body sketch of him, rendered in graphite. Every stroke was deliberate, almost solemn, carrying a quiet grace that gave the portrait an unmistakable weight. His face wore a somber expression, with eyes shaded to a deep, jet black that seemed heavy with weariness.
Do I really look like that when I'm texting?
"Thank you, I really appreciate it."
She answered with the gentle curve that always found its way to her lips. Fine lines gathered at the corners of her eyes, giving her away, she's genuine with her intentions. A flicker of the past came to him like an uninvited guest.
"When you smile, it never reaches your eyes."
He abruptly stops that train of thoughts, reminiscing of the past was never a healthy habit anyway.
"Are you a model sir? I feel like I've seen you somewhere." That caught him off guard for a moment. Whether she actually knew him or not didn't matter; he's leaving this conversation. He let out a quiet laugh.
"Well yes you can say that, anyway I really need to take my leave. Thank you for the drawing." He held up the drawings while he took his leave, the girl waved back and settled into her seat once more.
It's been a while since he got recognized, sometimes people who chatted with him in Headshot recognized him from a minor role in a movie he played a long time ago. He was rarely recognized in public, he knew it was only a matter of time before that changed.
His vision drifted to the people around him, he appreciate his personal time and space highly but he's aware that his job demand him to interact with a lot of people.
I need to get used to people.
Once he got out of the carriage, the evening dusk had already dissipated into a pitch black sky. He folded the sheet of paper into his pocket, as it slips it nudged a tiny box within his pouch. His cigarettes. They had never looked so tempting
The flicker of the lighter filled that quiet corner. An alleyway that people avoided. The scent of tobacco filled the chilly air, for a second he feels like he doesn't need a scarf.
It's the middle of October. The number of large pumpkins, ghosts, and grotesque creatures decorating the storefronts around him seemed to be increasing by the day. Children darted through the bustling streets wearing cheap monster masks, their laughter carrying over the evening traffic.
It's bright even though the night had just started. Neon lights shone the street, lighting every corner of it. Somehow, even from there, the lights never quite reached him. He exhaled slowly. Cigarette smoke mingled with his white breath, both dissolving into the freezing air.
There was something comforting about observing people from afar. An observer gained a perspective others couldn't, noticing things those caught in the moment often missed. It was like watching from high above, powerless to interfere, left only to watch everything unfold like a movie. Distance invited reflection.
Everyone seemed to wear a mask eventually, some more convincing than others. He developed a habit of searching for cracks. Everytime when someone's true self slipped through, he found himself often noticing it. Lately though, he wondered whether the people around him were wearing these masks—or whether he was.
I probably am.
He stared at the cigarette between his fingers and took one last slow drag, letting the nicotine settle into his system. He crushed the cigarette against the brick wall before flicking the butt into a nearby bin. Checking his watch, he stepped back beneath the neon lights. The crowd still felt unwelcoming as he made his way toward his apartment.
His bag jingled softly as he searched for his apartment key, the chilly air rushed in once he opened the door. It was pitch black but the hallway light leads his way to the light switch. It's lightly dimmed by a yellow light on his desk, he didn't plan to be blinded by the main lamp. His boots suddenly felt twice as heavy. The thick coat followed moments later, dropped carelessly over the back of a chair as soon as the heater rumbled to life.
There are still laundries at the corner of his room. That's tomorrow's problem. Thinking about it just makes him want to pretend that it doesn't exist anymore. He changed into a loose sweater and comfortable trousers. Even then, the apartment refused to warm completely.
A quiet sigh went out of his mouth. He took a sheet of blanket from the cluttered bed, and wrapped it around like a cloak.
The kettle whistled. A few minutes later, he sat at his desk with a bowl of instant noodles. He took his time to savor the broth in his instant noodle, the burning taste on his mouth will always be the best feeling whenever he feels cold in his room.
He opened his laptop, to check on his emails but then he was interrupted by a notification.
It was only a commercial, but it was a start. Better than nothing. The offer had come after his previous film. Apparently, the latest trailer had just been released, and the studio was beginning its marketing campaign. This time it's a marketing for the popcorn bucket, it looks like a miniature cowboy hat whereas the head area is being used for popcorn.
At least the design make sense compared to some other popcorn bucket he sometimes sees in the cinema. Some of them often focus too much on aesthetic to the point there's no space left for the popcorn hole, he's pretty sure they don't even deserve the title of being a popcorn bucket.
Then again...It's probably for collection
He composed himself down, as he put the bucket down on top of the table. The commercial itself was straightforward. He simply had to offer the bucket to the other actor before delivering a short line to the camera. Pretty simple, he'd head over to Headshot after finishing this job. However something caught his interest at the edge of his eyes, how can you not notice a utility pole walking all over the set. He quietly made a mental note to investigate later.
As he walked, he could've sworn he spotted Tsurumi on the set. That distinctive mustache was impossible to mistake. Curiosity got the better of him. He casually drifted toward the corner of the set, pretending to look for something. It really was him. And he wasn't alone.
Round blue eyes…
and mustache…
is that Wilk?
Now that's unexpected. He'd always assumed Tsurumi and Wilk had a rather strained relationship. Wilk was a respected director in his own right, renowned for the meticulous research behind his films—particularly those centered on Ainu culture.
Working with someone of his reputation would undoubtedly open the door to larger productions. Whatever the two were discussing, it had to be something interesting. As tempting as it was to eavesdrop, he needs to leave. There would be another opportunity.
The set descended into controlled chaos whenever the cameras were about to roll. Even so he managed to find the producer within that chaos. He's the only guy going all over the place making sure things are going. The producer quickly ran Ogata through the commercial, explaining where to stand, when to move, and which camera to look at. It was all standard procedure. Then he suddenly snapped his fingers.
"Oh! I almost forgot. I need to introduce you to your scene partner."
He guessed that mental note won't be needed anymore. A tall figure began making his way toward them. The producer explained that they're trying to market the movie internationally and make it appeal to foreigner. As they shook hands, Ogata felt the firm, calloused grip. His eyes were impossible to ignore. A clear shade of blue, almost as though someone had carved a hole through the sky.
"It's nice to meet you, I'm Vasily Pavlichenko. Just call me Vasily"
"Ogata Hyakunosuke. Pleased to meet you."
Ogata studied the brown-haired man. They couldn't have been more than a few years apart in age, though he stood on the Russian eye level. Long eyelashes softened features that were otherwise sharply defined. The sideburns should have looked ridiculous. Somehow, on him, they worked.
"A Russian? Now that's not something you see everyday." He tried to break the formality with a banter, the foreigner let out a quiet laugh.
"I'm not exactly a foreigner, my parents moved to Hokkaido when I was young. Basically I was raised here." That explain his fluency on his mother language, it's common to find foreigners migrating to Japan these days, but finding one on the entertainment field is something else.
The producer walked them through the recording plan. It was simple enough. Commercial shoots usually weren't complicated—the endless revisions were what took the most time. It also gave the crew enough time to coordinate, making sure nothing during the shoot would interfere with the visual effects later in post-production. The producer signaled that they'd be ready in twenty minutes. He glanced at Vasily besides him. They still had time to prepare.
"What got you into the industry?" Curiosity had gotten the better of him. They'll be working together for the next few hours, why not break the ice now. There are lots of questions in his mind, but for now he'll just keep it simple for him. The man gave the question a thoughtful look.
"Oh the usual, it's money."
A faint smile tugged at Ogata's lips. Another soul getting baited by the false hope of the entertainment industry, it's a shame. Some may have the facial features needed or the drive to proceed, to him that's just a sign of another unremarkable person in the business.
Money, fame, recognition—everyone had their reason for stepping onto the stage, but that just add another dull person in this place. Well, he had hoped this new guy wouldn't give up immediately or end up somewhere he didn't want to be.
"You'll probably think that's a shallow reason," Vasily continued with an awkward laugh, "but the longer I've been in this industry... the more I've started to enjoy it."
…What?
"I used to think acting was just performing in front of a camera." He saw his eyes brightened as he spoke. "But I realized that it's more than that. I'm planning to delve deeper into the industry." Fascination clouded his face, people had their reasons to enter but passion is the last thing he anticipated.
…
Ogata gave the prop table a glance. He took the popcorn bucket and gave it a single look. He tossed the popcorn bucket to him, as expected, he caught it with ease, a small smile tugged at his lips. He looked into those bright eyes. Confusion still lingered in them from the earlier blow. Around them, lights blazed overhead while crew members hurried across the set, each passing second pulling the production forward.
Perseverance will always burn bright at first, but will it last forever? Perhaps he needs to consider that perseverance and passion are two different things. Ability to immerse oneself is a necessary skill for an actor, watching him work feels like a breathe of fresh air, but something about his method feels different.
"You know how method acting works right?" Ogata asked, while pointing at the foreigner who's standing up right now. He lowered the script just enough to meet the black-haired man's gaze below him. A perplexed expression flickered across his face before he finally answered, "Yes?"
"Something about your method strike me as off, do you have some secret technique that I didn't know of?" Vasily looked away for a moment, thinking how to answer.
"I just often try to understand the characters I'm playing really."
"Understand? So if your character had a meltdown during one scene you would try to… analyze it?" He furrowed his brow, resting the side of his head against his right hand. Vasily gave him an affirming nod before returning to his script. Some actors worked that way. Ogata had simply never understood the need to research a character so extensively for a role. It sounded mentally exhausting. He'd take the usual method any day.
"Vasily be ready at 5." The producer stood in the doorway, waving the day's schedule. They'd been practicing in the changing room, Vasily had the first few scene for himself, He glanced at his script. There were only a handful of lines; most of the page consisted of stage directions describing the pacing rather than dialogue. He'd have time to prepare for his own scene afterward. As Vasily walked toward the door, he stopped and looked back in his direction. Once again, those clear eyes settled on him.
"You're not coming?"
"Hmm? What, you want my attention or something?"
Vasily merely narrowed his eyes. Ogata had to give him credit—his poker face is impressive. It was almost impossible to tell whether he was embarrassed or simply annoyed.
"You already have."
…
He stood, taking his script with him, and headed for the door. The moment Vasily noticed him getting up, he stepped away from the doorway and made his way to the set.
Usually for newbies, they often fall into the hole of being too dramatic, especially in commercial. Somehow, Vasily made it look effortless. His intimidating demeanor disappeared the instant the cameras started rolling, replaced by someone else entirely. He can tell he's taking this job seriously, when they had their scene together didn't break his character at all.
Ogata liked the momentum they had during the scenes, it only took them a few minutes for the filming. He was still stiff in front of the camera, though. Nothing unusual for a beginner. He'd get better with experience. There was only one thing that still bothered him...
"Good job out there." the raven-haired man said. The crew is preparing for the next scene, they still have another thirty minutes before another take. Vasily appreciated the gesture, a smile found its way onto his face. Almost without thinking, he raised hand, his thumb brushing over the faint creases at the corner of the other man's eyes.
"People think the mouth is the only thing that smiles, little did they know eyes played a role too." He said with a smile.
Ogata glanced at him, that face looks at him with a rigid face, his expression gave nothing away, only to find that unreadable expression waiting for him once again. Vasily's face had settled back into its usual stillness. They said the eyes are the windows to the soul, then his were shut tights.
"Don't forget to smile with your eyes too."
Ogata darted his eyes away, perhaps he'd gotten carried away. He doesn't understand people who does things with passion like him. His whole life he works hard to be where he is right now, he's good at acting but does he have love for it?
He walked away from where Vasily stood. As he passed, he felt the foreigner's hand brush lightly against his. He ignored it. They would meet again down the road.
Then he suddenly realized Tsurumi was heading towards him, he'd just finished talking to Wilk.
"That was a great acting!"
Tsurumi had always praised his talent. If it hadn't been for that, Ogata doubted he would've landed the role of the main antagonist in his last film. He didn't even realize he was smiling. He'd always taken pride in his craft, getting validated by it always feels like a reward, however the smile faded as he watched Tsurumi walk past as though he wasn't there. He looked over his shoulder, just to see Vasily and Tsurumi talking with each other. How did they even know each other?
"I might underestimated you, back then. Your acting as a background actor exceeded my expectation." he can feel irritation pulsed in the back of his skull. Tsurumi have always been a charmer, his words eats you away like the warmth of a burning house in the middle of a rain. Getting more trustable actors into his circle has always been a frequent theme, getting Vasily in is just an advantage for him. The Russian expression remained composed, yet something shifted—a flicker of confusion. It lasted only a heartbeat before his attention returned to Tsurumi. It should've been harmless. Instead he can feel bile gathers in his mouth.
"Uh thanks si-"
"Shhh don't thank me yet, someone here actually wanted you two to play in his movie." He patted Vasily's back continuously, while giving Wilk a glance. His eyes looks focused, and that grin he'd displayed is just a performance.
Wilk waved to them, and got himself closer to the group. He's on a formal attire, something tells him that he's actually here for business. They'd never been this close before as much he can tell. Tsurumi is planning something, but he can't really tell what it is.
"Vasily I heard a lot about you, from multiple people you get recommended a lot."
What's happening here?
This is the first time he's hearing Tsurumi recommending someone who's not even in the main cast. Heck he didn't even recognized Vasily. Wilk glanced at the person on his left. People are not exaggerating that Wilk have the softest gaze, he heard even when he's angry his gaze didn't betray.
"And Ogata, your last performance was fantastic. I hope 2 weeks from now we can start working together. You can sign the contract at my place on Monday."
Silence filled the room or is it his brain that cannot process this situation? His mind are filled with overwhelming amount of emotions that he himself cannot describe. None of them moved for a good amount of time, this will take a while to process.