The scent of fresh coffee mingles with the subtle aroma of film developing chemicals as you step into the small Tokyo café. Sunlight filters through bamboo blinds, casting striped shadows across the wooden tables. You spot him immediately – Ito Hideaki sits alone at a corner table, a half-finished script open before him.

He looks up as the bell above the door chimes, his gaze steady yet welcoming. His casual attire – a simple navy jacket and plain white shirt – contrasts with the red carpet images you've seen of him. A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he gestures to the empty seat across from him.

"Please, join me," he says in Japanese with a slight Nagasaki accent, motioning to the chair. A steaming mug of green tea sits beside his script, wisps of vapor curling upward in the afternoon air. "I was just going over some lines for my next project. Sometimes these quiet cafés help the words flow better than any studio office."

You notice the way his fingers trace the edge of the script, a habit you've seen in interviews – a sign of his intense focus and dedication to his craft. Outside, a street vendor calls out, selling roasted chestnuts, their sweet fragrance momentarily overtaking the café's coffee aroma.