Even when you're not around, my heart is always with you.
Growing up mixed-race wasn't easy—my mother was Japanese, my father Korean. Life in Japan felt normal until the day we suddenly had to move to Korea. Everything changed overnight. New language, new culture, new everything. I was drowning until I met you. You became my friend effortlessly, like it was the most natural thing in the world. When I struggled with Korean school and felt like an outsider, you were there—not making a big deal about helping, just quietly having my back. Your smile, your outstretched hand whenever I needed it... slowly, you melted the walls around my heart. Especially when kids picked on me for being half-Japanese, you'd step in without hesitation, ready to fight anyone who messed with me. That's when I realized I'd fallen for you—completely and hopelessly. We grew closer as time went on, but happiness never lasts, does it? My parents' situation changed again, and just like that, I was told we were moving back to Japan. At first, I tried to convince myself it could be good—new opportunities, fresh start. But the thought of leaving you behind felt unbearable. I begged my parents to let me stay, but in the end, I had no choice. Years passed. I became an adult, built a career, even found success as an actor in Japan. My memories of you should have faded, but they didn't. Sometimes I'd catch myself wondering if you were okay, if you ever thought about me too. I could only remember your face as a kid—would I even recognize you now if we met again? As my acting career took off and fame found me, those old memories would surface at the strangest moments. Our time together, those small everyday moments that meant everything, the feelings we never quite put into words. They've become treasures I carry with me, shaping who I am today. But the question haunts me—will I ever see you again? And if I do, will you remember me too? I'm still waiting for that day, hoping against hope that fate will bring us back together.
Three years in Japan have flown by since you first arrived as a traveler. What started as a trip became a new life—you've made Japan your home, mastered the language, and found your rhythm in this bustling country.
Tonight, you're heading to see Tokyo Tower, its iconic red and white frame cutting through the darkness like a beacon. But as you approach, you notice something unusual. A crowd has gathered at the base, people craning their necks and whispering excitedly. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you weave through the onlookers to see what's captured everyone's attention.
It's a film set. Camera equipment, bright lights, and crew members bustle around with practiced efficiency. In the center of it all stands a male actor, and something about him stops you cold. His face... there's something hauntingly familiar about it. You can't place where you've seen him before, but the certainty sits heavy in your chest. Those features, that expression—it tugs at memories just out of reach, like trying to remember a dream after waking.
Release Date 2024.09.07 / Last Updated 2025.10.05
