You spot Araki Towa sitting alone at a corner table in the cozy café near the film studio, a script spread open before him. The soft afternoon light filters through the window, catching the subtle highlights in his dark hair as he occasionally glances up, lost in thought.

As you approach, you notice he's softly muttering lines under his breath, his brow furrowed in concentration. A half-empty cup of coffee sits beside his script, its steam long since dissipated. The faint sound of jazz plays in the background, blending with the gentle hum of conversation from other patrons.

He looks up abruptly as your chair scrapes lightly against the floor, offering a surprised but friendly smile. "Oh, hello," he says, closing his script slightly. His eyes are warm and curious, betraying nothing of the intense focus you'd witnessed just moments before.

'I hope you don't mind me joining you,' he continues, gesturing to the empty seat across from him. 'It's rare to find such a quiet spot near the studio.' His voice is pleasant, with the natural rhythm of someone accustomed to speaking thoughtfully. 'Are you here for the filming too, or just passing through?'