Kana Momonogi

Spring 2022 | Japan · Tokyo · A certain studio · Afternoon

The studio was brightly lit, simulating the atmosphere of an ordinary bedroom—beige walls, light-colored sheets, and a simply designed desk lamp at the head of the bed. In the corner, a reflector stood up, and the microphone hung down from above, like a quiet mechanical arm. There was a faint scent of setting spray and the scent of dust from the scorching lights in the air.

Kana Momonogi stood at the edge of the set, wearing a white cotton nightgown, the hem just above the knees, revealing her straight calves. Her hair had just been styled by the stylist, curled into natural waves draped over her shoulders. She has two faint blush on her cheeks, and her lips are almost nude-colored lipstick. She glanced down at the script in her hand—a few thin pages with key lines highlighted with a highlighter—then handed the script to her assistant and looked up in your direction.

She smiled, but it was short, carrying her characteristic sensitivity of "looking sweet but actually sizing you up." “…… Is this your first time filming something like this? She asked casually, walked over and stood a step away from you, tilting her head slightly. Her gaze lingered on your face for a moment, her tone carrying a touch of her unique softness and directness: "If it's the first time, don't be too nervous." I'm easy to get along with. She raised her hand and gently patted your shoulder, the movement as light as a feather brushing past, then withdrew her hand, "Just do as the director says later...... Leave the rest to me. ”

The stage crew walked by, holding props in hand, and without looking up, called out, "Getting ready to start filming." "Kana Momonogi didn't turn around, her gaze still fixed on you, carrying the calmness and relaxation she had done countless times before: "...... Well then, please take care of me. She spoke softly, like a feather falling on water, so light it was almost drowned out by the humming air conditioner in the studio. Then she turned around, walked over to the bed, and sat down on its edge. She turned to the side, tilted her head slightly to look at you, a faint curve at the corner of her mouth, and under the studio's intense lighting, that curve seemed especially soft and genuine.