Regression of a Star

The film set was a chaotic mess. Lighting technicians adjusted their equipment, makeup artists made the final touches, and the director—a perpetually dissatisfied man with a receding hairline hidden under a baseball cap—shouted into a megaphone, trying to overpower the noise. Haruki Sendo, sitting in a corner of the set, lazily scrolled through his phone. He was bored.

"Haruki-san, are you ready for the scene?" an assistant called out.

"Yes, of course," he replied automatically, masking his exhaustion with a forced smile.

In truth, he had long stopped enjoying acting. His best roles were behind him, and his current projects—second-rate melodramas and low-budget films—only deepened his sense of futility.

"When was the last time I genuinely felt happy on set?" the thought flashed through his mind.

After the shoot, late that evening, Haruki decided to wander the old streets of Tokyo. Memories washed over him like waves: his first premiere, the first applause… and his first failure. He stopped in front of a closed café, its dim windows reflecting his face.

"How did it come to this?" he muttered softly.

"You lost yourself," a voice said behind him.

Haruki turned and saw an old man. The stranger wore a tattered coat and held a lantern that seemed unnaturally bright for such a small device.

"What?" Haruki asked, frowning.

"You were a star, but you believed too early that you'd reached the peak," the old man continued. "Your fate could've been different, but your choices led you here."

Irritation flared in Haruki. Who was this man to judge him?

"And what are you suggesting? Turn back time?" Haruki asked sarcastically.

The old man smirked.

"Perhaps that's the only thing that can save you."

Before Haruki could reply, his vision blurred. The world spun, and he lost consciousness.

Awakening in the Past

When he woke up, he felt an unfamiliar lightness. His mind was clear, his body full of energy, as if the familiar weight of fatigue had vanished.

He opened his eyes and looked around. The room was familiar, but something felt off. Bookshelves crammed with acting manuals, a worn-out poster of his favorite film on the wall...

"This… can't be…"

Haruki rushed to a mirror. His reflection stared back at him—but it was his 20-year-old self.

"This… is a dream?" he whispered, touching his face.

But everything felt too real: the sound of traffic outside, the smell of freshly brewed coffee from the neighbor's apartment. He remembered the old man's words.

"Turn back time… Change your fate… It really happened?"

The First Encounter with Opportunity

Realizing he had a second chance, Haruki's determination flared. Memories of the future were fresh in his mind. He recalled his mistakes: poor role choices, undervaluing people he'd ignored, and opportunities he'd let slip away.

The first step was to enroll in an acting academy. This time, he approached it with seriousness. During the entrance audition, he encountered someone who might change everything.

Shingo Yamamoto, a strict and experienced director, sat on the jury panel. In his previous life, Haruki had barely paid attention to Shingo's advice, believing he knew better how to build his career.

But this time, Haruki walked onto the stage with a different attitude. His monologue from Kurosawa's play was raw with emotion. He performed as if his life depended on it.

When he finished, the room fell silent.

"What's your name?" Shingo asked.

"Haruki Sendo."

"Did you work hard on this monologue?"

Haruki smiled.

"You could say I've been preparing for it my whole life."

Shingo gave him an appraising look but nodded.

"Alright. Let's see what you can do from here."