A Hundred Scenes of Awajima Episode 3: Katsurako Ibuki and Natsuko Kusanagi

We meet Katsura Ibuki, a teacher whose quiet demeanor belies a past she's attempting to outrun. She deflects questions about her failed acting career with dry humor, a practiced self-deprecation. A student, Wakana, offers a small gift and earnest admiration, hinting at Katsura's quiet impact despite her own sense of unfulfillment. It's clear that Katsura sees her present life as a penance, a deliberate retreat from the spotlight she once sought. This gentle interaction is punctuated by Katsura's internal thoughts about her mother's "adorable, country-style face" and Wakana's request for an autograph, jarring Katsura from her melancholic reflections.

A stark flashback pulls us into Katsura's childhood, revealing the origin of her guarded nature. Her grandmother, a woman of formidable beauty and equal cruelty, dictates every aspect of her daughter's life, echoing the generational expectation of perfection. The chilling pronouncement that young Katsura "needs a little fixing" marks her forever. Later, at her grandmother's deathbed, Katsura's cold command to "Die quickly while suffering" is a shocking display of inherited bitterness. Watching the cremation, she sheds no tears, only realizing with a jolt that she has become like the bitter old woman she despised, Emi Okabe.

The stage becomes Katsura's brief escape, or perhaps, another prison. She recalls her acclaimed performance as the "Snow Queen," a role that perfectly mirrored her own internal chill and isolation. Under the stage lights, she sees her grandmother's wide-eyed, yet perhaps critical, gaze in the audience. There is also the memory of Emi Okabe’s piercing stare, which seemed to dissect her performance, rather than appreciate it. Katsura confesses a deep desire to abandon her own life, but ultimately resolves to keep thinking and existing, a quiet, defiant act of endurance.

The narrative shifts to Hinagi Natsuko, a celebrated actress, and her daughter, Yamaji Ruriko. Young Ruriko waits for her mother's return, a promised hair ornament never materializing, a symbol of Natsuko’s constant absence. Ruriko’s grandmother is quick to condemn Natsuko’s failings, further burdening the child with adult resentments. Later, as a middle schooler, Ruriko endures whispers about her mother’s influence, carrying the weight of Natsuko’s fame. A classmate, Masako Yamamoto, offers a rare moment of genuine connection, yet Ruriko remains quiet, guarded by the long shadow her mother casts.

As an adult, Ruriko struggles to recall happy memories of her mother during an interview for a Mother's Day feature. The interviewer gently guides her to wish for what she might have wanted, highlighting the persistent void. Her fiancé, Miyabi Hanabusa, jokes about "seducing" Natsuko for her approval, a lighthearted comment that still touches on the lingering difficulty of their relationship. A flashback shows Natsuko charming her friends, but her face turns to cold indifference when young Ruriko approaches, only for Kanichi, Ruriko's father, to offer genuine warmth and comfort.

We rewind further to the unlikely romance between Natsuko and Kanichi Yamaji, Ruriko's father. They bond over shared "boring" natures, finding a quiet understanding amidst the dramatic world of film. This tender courtship reveals a softer, more grounded side of Natsuko. However, this vulnerability is quickly overshadowed by her anxieties after Ruriko's birth. Looking at her infant daughter, Natsuko sees only the dreaded resemblance to her own mother, fearing she is destined to repeat a cycle of coldness and inadequacy.

On his deathbed, Kanichi calls for Natsuko, orchestrating a fleeting moment of connection. Natsuko pulls young Ruriko into a tight embrace, a rare and profound comfort for the child. This single, desperately brief hug becomes the sole memory Ruriko holds of her mother's affection. Before this, we see Kanichi's quiet strength in the face of Ruriko's grandmother's caustic remarks, a man who, until the end, tried to mend the generational rifts with his steadfast kindness. His passing breaks the last fragile bond of warmth within the family.

The narrative returns to Katsura in the present, visiting her elderly mother in a nursing facility. Her mother, whose memory is fading, still utters the familiar, cutting phrase: "You need a little fixing, don't you?" Katsura endures the remark with polite patience, a lifetime of such interactions having tempered her reactions. They sit by a window, the conversation strained, but marked by a quiet, almost weary sense of continuity. Katsura observes her mother, reflecting on the long, complicated path their lives have traveled.

At Hinagi Natsuko's funeral, Katsura reflects on her friend's complex life, noting the absence of tears at Natsuko's own mother's funeral. She understands that while beauty can be a burden, it is the capacity for love and connection that truly defines a person. This reflection on Natsuko's life and choices informs Katsura's own final act of seeking peace. She visits her ailing mother in the hospital, and a final, quiet conversation reveals a softening of the mother's harsh exterior. Katsura finds a form of distant understanding, leaving with a sense of closure, finally ready to release the bitterness she has held for so long.

The episode concludes with a series of poignant images: a young Ruriko finding simple joy in an origami crane, a stark contrast to Natsuko's elegant but burdened public life on stage. Katsura walks away on Awashima, a small figure against the island's vastness, suggesting both freedom and solitude. The final montage underscores the persistent cycles of maternal relationships, both beautiful and painful. Yet, Ruriko's enduring love for her imperfect mother, as expressed in her monologue, provides a note of quiet peace, hinting at the possibility of breaking these cycles through understanding, if not always perfect affection.