We finally get a tech-inspired Horror this time! And I can’t help but be amused to see that a big, scary mob boss in charge of a first-rate company gets all his information from a such a dinky looking computer. Even its true form is hardly threatening. Still, don’t let its appearance fool you. This Horror still likes to consume human flesh like the rest of its ilk. Where would your body even go anyway? Straight into the void whence the Horror emerged? Actually, I’m even more curious about how the Horror ges its information. Naturally, I can only assume the internet.

Halfway through the episode, the Horror clues its master in a meeting being held by the latter’s peers. The various gang leaders are conspiring to kill him because he’s gotten too powerful. How did the computer get this information, though? Did the gang leaders email each other to set up the meeting, and thus the Horror hacked into their accounts? That sounds awfully careless of them. But it gets even sillier than that. Somehow, the computer can warn its master ahead of time that Gina is coming. I hope SHE isn’t posting her future exploits onto the dark web for everyone to see! “Hey guys, meetup at mob boss’s HQ. We’re gonna be dodging lasers, kicking asses, and seducing creepy old dudes. Who’s in?”

Speaking of Gina, we finally meet the final member of the quadrumvirate. If you’ve been following the Garo series at all, it shouldn’t surprise you that she’s a Makai ALCHEMIST. I think there’s some silly rule that says women can’t be Makai Knights. Nevertheless, she can hold her own against SMG-toting gangsters, and like her predecessors, she’s loaded with gadgets. Most of all, she serves as the brains behind this week’s operation. Naturally, the Makai Alchemist also employs her feminine wiles to her advantage. And since Vanishing Line appears to take place in some unidentified American city, MAPPA happily seizes the opportunity to make Gina tall and buxomy.

But like every major character introduced thus far, we only know what she’s capable of. In terms of goals, motivations, inner thoughts and concerns, so on and so forth, Gina is as much a mystery as the rest of the cast. Mystery is putting it lightly. At worst, they’re one-dimensional. I’m not calling for Garo to unveil anything and everything about a character right from the get-go, but other than Sophie’s search for her brother, there’s nothing compelling about our four protagonists. Leon at least carries the burden of his mother’s sacrifice with him, and that was established right from the very first episode. Sword, Luke and Gina are slick and badass, but I’ve little reason to get emotionally invested in their fates.

Before I continue, let’s get one thing clear: Mendoza was kind of annoying in both his speech and mannerisms. But at least the first Garo anime had a Mendoza. Three episodes in, and Vanishing Line has nothing but the mysterious El Dorado to dangle before us. Of course, not every tale of good vs evil requires a big, bad villain at the center, pulling the strings and cackling demonically at the heroes. But what I enjoyed about the original Garo was the human element on both sides. The Horrors weren’t just man-eating Eldritch monsters. They were often fallen humans, twisted beyond recognition due to their inability to resist their base desires. So far, the only Horror with a pitiable story was last week’s Hardy.

Yes, it has only been three episodes, but Garo isn’t helping itself against the Horror-of-the-week criticism that often gets bandied by viewers. The opening episode featured a run-of-the-mill serial killer, and it’s doubtful of this week’s man-eating computer was ever human. Does the computer even have a personality? All I know is that it wants to eat people, and it makes angry emoji faces at its enemies. The Horror-of-the-week actually doesn’t bother me all that much so long as the Horrors are somewhat interesting in execution. The anime finally throws something at the heroes that can only come from the present day, and yet, the Horror is so uninspired, it feels as though we’ve taken two steps backward.

So far, Vanishing Line is manly (Sword), mysterious (Luke), and sexy (Gina). But where’s the heart? What separates this Garo from all of the other shows about fighting demons? The previews for next week’s episode heralds a return to Sophie and the search for her brother. Hopefully, it will also remedy what the anime is sorely lacking.

Pick Ena. I would. Then again, I’ve always preferred girls with a little more spunk to them. It’s just that Natsume is so passive by comparison. Natsume agrees to help Haruto get over his fear of dogs, but there are two problems with that. First, she keeps saying she needs to study, and yet, she ends up distracting herself instead. Second, helping Haruto with his cynophobia means he’ll be one step closer to winning Hazuki’s heart. Well, we all know deep down, it takes two to tango. Just because Haruto likes Hazuki doesn’t mean she’ll like him back. But let’s pretend for a moment that this is one of those shows in which everything will magically work out for the better. After all, it has that kind of carefree atmosphere. After three whole episodes, the plot meanders around, jumping from one light-hearted thread to the next.

• Ena needs Eita’s permission to use a photo of him pitching in a contest. The fate of her photography club is on the line. Unlike everyone else, she’s a second year. As such, she can’t just let the photography club die. What would she do next year?
• Haruto has only a few months left to convince Hazuki that he’s a guy worth dating. If she has an inkling for romance at all, she’s doing a great job putting up a poker face. Yoriko tries her best to peer into her best friend’s heart, but hey, if she can’t confess who she likes, why would Hazuki do the same?
• Finally, we come to Eita and Natsume. They are busy… they are busy… uh, what are they busy with? I don’t really know. Eita already has his recommendation, so he’s merely waiting the final months out, I suppose. And again, Natsume needs to study, but she can’t focus. Both the past and the present are tugging at her heartstrings, and she can’t help but wonder, “What am I doing?”

I don’t know either, girl. I don’t got a clue what you and Eita are trying to accomplish. But there you go. Those are the three primary plot threads at the moment, and the show embodies its two main characters. They’re simply along for the ride, and likewise, the show saunters along without any real drive or force. It’s just… going. It’s hard to imagine what the conclusion will be. Certainly, four of the five kids will graduate, but then what? Honestly, Just Because! is absolutely not my type of show; I’m not even sure why I’m covering it. For years and years, I’ve always used Moe Sucks as a platform to rail against slice-of-life shows where nothing happens. And yet here I am, not only watching this anime, but blogging it like an idiot. “What am I doing?” I don’t know either, girl. I don’t got a single clue what I‘m doing. As such, even this post has lost the plot. What was I even talking about in the first place? Oh yeah… pick Ena.

At the moment, Just Because! doesn’t appear to harbor even the slightest hint of pathos. Sometimes, audiences just want to relax and feel good, so I suppose the show gets the job done on that front. I’ll even admit that I kinda like this show because it’s a bit soothing. Slice-of-life shows typically get on my nerves, but for some odd reason, I like these characters. For now, they’re actually pretty drama free. Even though these kids are trying to navigate the awkward avenues of teenage love, this isn’t a melodramatic show. Not yet, anyways. I’ve seen the OP. I know tears will be shed. But until then — and god only knows when “then” will be — there’s not a single downer thing about Just Because! Well… I suppose there’s one slightly, oh-so-slightly melancholy aspect to these kids’ lives: their future. No one really has any goals or dreams to aspire to. They’re so young, and they have so much ahead of them, and yet it feels as though their lives are already on rails.

Hazuki’s college won’t have a band. At best, it has a band appreciation club. So for now, there are no plans to continue playing the trumpet once she graduates from high school. She failed to reach nationals in high school, so why continue in college? She’ll just try to graduate as soon as she can, and then she’ll join the family business. My, what a devoted daughter. And yet, there’s something sad about that. We need to be selfish sometimes. We need to think and act for ourselves sometimes. Otherwise, we might grow old and resentful one day. Maybe Hazuki’s too nice to ever resent her family, but she might resent herself for never even trying. Still, notice how she turns to look out the window when she say she’s going to help the family business. She’s hiding a lot beneath that calm and placid facade. Well, who knows? I’m speculating. Furthermore, I’m coming at this from a very Western and thus individualistic mindset. I could never join the family business. Luckily, there isn’t one, but let’s put it this way: I haven’t been home in almost a decade.

I can admit that I’ve probably gone too far in the other direction. Whereas Hazuki is content to reserve her future for her family, I’ve gone and practically locked mine away in the past. Still, there’s a healthy middle ground somewhere, right? And yet, echos of Hazuki’s future reverberates throughout the show. Again, Haruto reiterates that he’ll just get a job after he graduates. What is he gonna do after that? Work, he says. What about Eita? What is he going to do after college? Dunno, he says. Last but not least, what is Natsume going to do once she gets into college? Hell, she doesn’t even know what she’s doing now. We study to get into a good college, and we get into a good college to secure a good future for ourselves. That’s how it’s supposed to go, anyway. But what does a good future really mean?

Making a breakthrough scientific discovery? Writing a novel that touches everyone’s hearts and wins literary prizes after literary prizes? Becoming a doctor that saves lives? These kids don’t ever talk about such lofty dreams. It’s as if they don’t even dare to consider such ambitious goals. At best, they’ll shrug and say “Dunno.” Maybe that’s why these kids are distracting themselves with matters of the heart. When the future is so uncertain, it’s almost scary. Wouldn’t you rather focus on the now? And doesn’t that encapsulate everything about the teenage mindset? Everything that is happening now just seems so much more important. Natsume is the only person who you can say is planning for the future, but even then, she’s doing a poor job focusing on those exams.

So… pick Ena, I guess. If we’re going to go with the now, and just focus on our teenage love lives, then I’ll listen to my heart too and pick the girl who’s got spirit. She’s assertive. She knows what she wants, and she’s determined to convince Eita to let her enter his photo into a contest. And y’know what? Maybe she’s the only one who’ll pursue her own dreams once she graduates. Maybe she’ll shoot to become a famous photographer or something. I’m so far gone from my teenage years, but Ena is closer to the type of girl I would always have crushes on. If I was in Eita’s shoes, I wouldn’t pick Natsume. But we know who’ll win out in the end, don’t we? Life does seem to be on rails. And there you go, a meandering post for a meandering slice-of-life show.

When Chise comes to, she finds herself in the mouth of a dragon. If you’ll recall, last week’s episode ended on a bit of a cliffhanger. A silver-haired stranger swooped in from out of nowhere and absconds with Elias’s Asian bride apprentice. We find out quickly that Lindel (also known as Echos) not a bad guy, though; he and Elias are even allies. He just likes to mess with people, and I guess staged kidnappings is just one of tried-and-tested pranks. Plus, even if Lindel had harbored malicious intentions, Chise was never in any real danger. Being a powerful magus means Elias was with her every step of the way, this time hiding within her shadow. After some brief banter, the men leave to discuss important matters, leaving the girl behind to hang out with the children. Hm.

So still without an antagonist, the story falls back on its world-building and character development. As a traumatized individual most likely also suffering from depression, Chise does what most characters often do in her position: she plays. I’ve written about play and trauma before, so I really don’t want to rehash the topic. Nevertheless, here are some quoted passages that might be interesting:

The developing child’s positive sense of self depends upon a caretaker’s benign use of power. When a parent, who is so much more powerful than a child, nevertheless shows regard for that [child]… the child feels valued and respected; she develops self-esteem. She also develops autonomy, that is, a sense of her own separateness within a relationship. She learns to… express her own point of view.

…eminent theorists have emphasized the value of abreactive play for children… children in play reconstruct, reenact, and reinvent their stressful experiences in order to understand them, assimilate their reality, and achieve mastery over them. Through play, children can adopt roles that were not part of real experiences… and, thus, master difficult life situations.

Those aren’t my words, by the way. Obviously not since they’re actually well-written and everything. Nope, these are words from actual experts. I merely used them to analyze anime — Arakawa Under the Bridge, to be specific. I still find those passages relevant now, which is fitting in my mind because I still very much see the girl as both physically and emotionally a child. Chise thus plays with the dragons, and that’s probably the most wholesome takeaway from this so-called honeymoon.

After the little dragons tire themselves out, Chise finally gets some one-on-one time with Nevin, an ancient dragon who is ready for his life to end. But death for dragons is apparently a peaceful, beautiful event. They simply turn into the trees and boulders that you see around you. They return to nature, more or less, and one need not grieve for them. Nevin intrudes on Chise’s memories, so to make it up to her, he invites her into his final dream. Within it, she and Nevin soar through the clear skies blessed by a sunset. The whole moment is supposed to be magical and transcendent; you’ve even got an insert song to highlight the moment. I’ll give my personal thoughts on it later.

After the shared dream, Nevin transforms into a majestic tree. So in Nevin, you have something akin to a parental figure. Not only does he impart wisdom and passes the torch along by imploring her to turn one of his branches into a magic wand, more importantly, his passing away is not something to lament. This goes against Chise’s past experiences, which is important if the laconic girl is to ever recover from her past traumas. Although she is envious that the dragon could pass away so peacefully, she is still touched by his kindness.

And none of this would’ve been possible, however, without Chise’s vast potential as a Sleigh Beggy. Nevertheless, she’s a frail girl untrained in the ways of magic, so she hasn’t got long to live if things remain as they are. By the end of the episode, the whole ordeal seems to have taken a toll, and Chise collapses to the ground. Lindel carefully reminds Elias that she won’t have more than three years at this rate. Elias responds with annoyance that he knows just how grave the situation is, but he hasn’t really done a great job in preventing the girl from inadvertently using her powers.

Well, I know logically that this episode contained scenes that were important to our heroine’s slow and steady progress towards recovery, but it still bored me to hell. As soon as it ended, I went back to rewatch some of the important moments; I felt as though I had missed something. In the end, I couldn’t find what that “something” was. For example, her moment with Nevin seemed forced and overwrought. But unfortunately, I’m stubborn. I know people will be like, “This is not your type of anime. You should stop watching it.” But I refuse. So instead, I invite you to tell me what you like about Mahoutsukai no Yome’s first three episodes. What do you find particularly impressive or touching about them?

Plotwise, this episode is a bit peculiar. As soon as I saw the green minerals embedded in the snail’s shell, I said to myself, “Oh, that’s how they’re going to put Phos back together.” And whaddaya know, this is the solution to the episode’s primary problem. Quite frankly, I thought it was plainly obvious. Plus, it’s not like the green bits are hidden from view. But for some odd reason, Diamond mistakes a cute, little slug for their former gem-friend. To be fair, the slug does admittedly respond to the name Phos over and over, but still… isn’t there just one way to restore these gem-people back to life? Don’t you always need to find their parts and glue those back together? Ah well, I guess Diamond isn’t exactly the brightest gem around.

Characterization-wise, the episode is a bit more interesting. With the slug in tow, Diamond tries to solicit help from other gems in a sequence of scenes that mirror Phos’s escapades in previous weeks. Remember, Phos went from people to people to ask for assistance with an encyclopedia, but they were as unhelpful then as they are now. Not only do they not know how to restore Phos, they don’t really care to either. Some of them can barely tear themselves away from their current tasks to respond to Diamond. Others even jokingly remark that they should keep Phos as a slug, since the gem is kinda annoying as their normal self. That might seem callous, but to be fair, time isn’t as important to gems as it is to us. They’re practically immortal, so it’s no big deal if Phos stays as a slug for a few days, weeks, or even months.

Still, Diamond presses on. After all, the gem needs to distinguish themself from Bort. They’re both supposed to be gifted in combat due to their innate hardness, but the latter is clearly superior. As a result, Diamond has ironically developed an inferiority complex; the gem not only feels inadequate but also quite envious of their partner. At the same time, however, Bort is a bitch. These are not subtle characters either, so Bort’s bitchiness is the in-your-face sort: “When Phos gets back, there’s going to be a beatdown… Time to pickup the scraps of that piece of garbage.” Unfortunately, this is where the typical anime archetypes strike again. Characters like Bort are a dime a dozen, so it’s tiring to listen to their asshole personalities over and over.

But as I was saying, Diamond doesn’t give up. They might not fight as well as their counterpart, but at least they have more heart. Phos is definitely annoying, but beneath that ditzy personality and hyperactivity, there’s a genuine kindness. And Diamond is not so blind that they can’t recognize that they’ve also been a recipient of said kindness. Which thus brings us to Cinnabar, the brooding, emo archetype of the show. I’m all alone, I have no purpose, nobody wants me, woe is me, yadda yadda yadda. Again, it’s not that I think Cinnabar is a stupid character. It’s just incredibly basic and unoriginal; we’re treading very familiar territory, so I can’t help but be bored of the lazy characterization. Still, Cinnabar is also another gem who has been touched by Phos’s kindness, so the former drops enough hints to clue Diamond in on the obvious solution.

So finally, Diamond rallies the other gems together to pull the giant snail shell out of the pond. From there, they collect chips of Phos’s former self, which the good doctor uses to finish the rest of the job. What follows is an oddly suggestive rebirth, but hey, the story swears that these gems are genderless. Uh-huh. And this is where the episode really disappoints me. We go through all this character development for both Diamond and Cinnabar, but when Phos comes to, they don’t even give their thanks to anyone. Diamond gets nothing for persevering despite all odds, and the rest of the gems get nothing despite all the physical labor required. They had to do it in the middle of the night, too. Instead, Phos immediately gets into an argument with the slug, which, at this point, is clearly a separate sapient entity.

Maybe the other gems were right after all. Maybe they could’ve and should’ve waited a little longer to lift a finger for Phos’s sake. Meanwhile, Kongo has been absent this whole time. Busy meditating, I’m sure. All this talk about change from within and rebirth, and the first thing Phos does is cause a scene. I know we’re supposed to take notice of the fact that Phos can somehow understand slugspeak. Still, I can’t help but feel like we just spent twenty minutes to establish that the slug is a new and important character. Plus, there’s this anime/manga thing of employing basic archetypes, and merely promising to develop them into deep and interesting characters far, far down the line. If the story can pull it off, great, but the drawback is that the early episodes are always a drag. You’re just tapping your foot, waiting for the good stuff to finally happen.

I just got back from seeing this film in the theaters, and I would like to ramble a bit about it. I don’t hate it. I don’t think it’s a bad movie. The movie even moved me to tears at times. There are some genuinely emotional moments in A Silent Voice. Nevertheless, it is a thoroughly frustrating movie. I’m going to have to break this down into a lazy bullet list of points, because I’m finding a bit difficult to organize my thoughts. On the one hand, it’s always a pleasure to experience an anime film on the big screen. As expected from Kyoto Animation, A Silent Voice is gorgeous to be hold. It doesn’t sound half bad either. But on the other hand, I can’t take notes in a dark auditorium. I also can’t rewind important scenes to rewatch them from different perspectives. As a result, I feel like rambling.

— First up, if you haven’t heard of A Silent Voice, it’s a film about Ishida Shoya and Nishimiya Shoko. Shoko is deaf, but she’s a sweet and friendly girl who tries her best to be friends with everyone. Unfortunately, the kids in elementary school lack the emotional intelligence to bridge the gap between them and Shoko. Let’s just say there’s a lot of schoolyard bullying. At one point, I think a principal addresses the entire class and asks the kids if they know who’s been bullying the poor girl. The teacher suddenly pipes up: “Shoya, we know it was you.” Dude, you’re the teacher. If you knew, why didn’t you do anything about it? Ugh, I don’t even have time to get into that right now. I have bigger points to address in this post.

— The kids are extremely cruel to Shoko, and you can’t help but feel bad for the girl. You can thus argue that these scenes are effective. After all, I teared up watching the girl suffer through their mistreatment, and the saddest thing is that she kept putting on an innocent smile. She kept trying to be their friend. At a certain point, however, it’s like watching someone kick a poor dog over and over. I’m a cat person, and I’ll always be a cat person, but I still know how loyal dogs can be. Dogs just want to be your best friend, and Shoko was and still is very much the same way. Well, I suppose if you abuse the dog enough, it’ll start to fear you. It’ll start to cower, tense up, snarl, and growl at you. We only see Shoko fight back once and only once.

After this, there’s a substantial timeskip. Shoko is 17 once the story picks back up, I believe? I know she turns 18 by the end of the film. When she bumps into Shoya again, he easily wins her heart. Too easily, I feel. Over the past fear years, Shoya has really matured. To his credit, he is truly remorseful for the way he treated the girl, and he’s even worked super hard to repay his debts to his mother. He’s even picked up sign language. As a result — as if nothing has ever happened — Shoko is ready to become his friend again. She never fears him nor her past abusers. I just find that odd.

— So I sat there and I thought, “Oh no, are they gonna make the girl fall in love with her former bully?” And y’know, this isn’t bad in and of itself. I just think that these types of stories are really hard to pull off, and honestly, I don’t think A Silent Voice pulls it off. I still don’t understand why she falls in love with Shoya. I don’t feel as if there is enough moments between those two to really justify her sudden feelings for him. In fact, the whole relationship feels incredibly rushed. Again, I feel that she should’ve been more fearful and suspicious of him from the start. Instead, Yuzuru, Shoko’s younger sister, pretty much takes up this role. She’s the one who tries to keep Shoya away, so he pretty much has to win Yuzuru over. If you treat your girl’s siblings right, they’ll probably put in a good word for you. But I almost feel as though Yuzuru shouldn’t exist. Bits of her characters and some of her scenes should’ve just gone to Shoko instead. For example, Yuzuru’s love for photography. On the other hand, I don’t know what Shoko’s hobbies are at all.

— The movie’s focus is on the wrong person. Shoya isn’t a bad guy. As I’ve said, he has matured a lot since elementary school, and he also changes a lot over the course of the film. But guys like him are a dime a dozen not just in anime, but across storytelling in general. Shoko, however, is different. How often do you get to listen to a deaf girl? And I don’t just mean listen in the literal sense, but we don’t get enough of that either. We don’t get to hear Shoko’s voice very much at all. It’s always jarring to hear her speak obviously because she’s deaf. But isn’t that the point? It sounds jarring, because we don’t try to listen. Every time she speaks, people around her cringe. We in the audience cringe. And as a result, she shuts herself up. She’s not just deaf. We are deaf to her. And to fully explore this theme, we have to confront the seemingly alien dissonance of Shoko’s voice. This is not to normalize it, but to appreciate the beauty within the shape of her voice — the way she communicates.

— Communication… yeah. There isn’t enough of it between the characters, but more importantly, there isn’t enough nonverbal communication. One cute and effective moment occurs midway through the film. Shoko has fallen for Shoya, so she tries to reveal her feelings to him. Predictably, he finds it difficult to understand her when she speaks, because he doesn’t listen to it enough. As a result, when she tries to tell him that she likes him (suki), he thinks she’s talking about the moon (tsuki). But this misunderstanding just ties into a much larger point about his deafness to her communication in all its myriad forms. She changes her hairstyle by putting it into a ponytail. Shoya likes what he sees, but fails to understand the implications of the change. She gives him a gift that he completely doesn’t comprehend until the end of the movie.

At this point, you must wonder why she doesn’t just tell him she likes him via text. You have to understand what the voice is to someone like Shoko. You have to look all the way back to elementary school for a moment in choir class. Shoko, perhaps excited and eager to sing with her friends, starts in too early. Her voice not only startles the other children, but it is naked and alone. Realizing that her voice does not sound conventionally beautiful, the other kids mutter that they won’t have much of a chance in choir competition. Don’t think for a second that any of this goes unnoticed by Shoko. Why else does she try to communicate via her notebook? It is easier for the kids to understand her, sure, but it is also because the voice has become a terrifying, traumatic dimension. Time for me to drops bits of Zizek into this post, because I love me that fucking Lacan-worshiping blowhard.

What Shoya wants to express — love and friendship for her classmates — does not match up with what actually comes out of her throat. So in effect, her voice doesn’t feel like an organic part of her body. It does not feel like “the sublime, ethereal medium for expressing the depth of [her] subjectivity, but… as a foreign intruder.” So why now? Why, after all these years, does Shoko insist on confessing her love to Shoya with her voice? Because whether or not it feels like “a foreign intruder,” the voice is nevertheless hers. There is no getting rid of it. And “since we cannot simply get rid of it,” then she must “domesticate it and transform this voice into the means of expressing [her] humanity, love” and so on. This is the most touching and vulnerable aspect of Shoko’s character that doesn’t get explored nearly enough by the rest of the film.

— But back to the topic of nonverbal communication, I wouldn’t have had Shoya just show up one day with working knowledge of sign language. It’s too easy. Instead, the story should’ve had him learn it over the course of the year as a way to bridge the gap between him and Shoko. And in the meantime, he would also learn other ways to understand her. Because let’s face it, communication goes beyond words. Two lovers can spend an entire day in silence, and yet understand each other completely. It’s more than just the way she does her hair. It’s the way she looks at you, the way she moves around you, the way she plays with her hair or your hair, the way her touch guides you, the rhythm of her breathing, the way she smiles and so on. There aren’t enough moments where the characters communicate to each other via body language. They may as well be deaf to it as well.

— Instead, the film primarily explores social deafness. We are cowards at heart, so we tune each other out. We are afraid to hear what they have to say, especially about us. Tomohiro is so desperate to play the best friend that he doesn’t really know Shoya all that well, Miki tries so hard to be a saint that she’s really self-absorbed, Naoka is afraid to admit her insecurities so she makes assumptions about other rather than listening to them, so on and so forth. Most of all, even though Shoya is remorseful for his former sins, he’s still afraid of his peers’ judgment. As a result, he shuts them out before he can even hear what they have to say. I get it. This part is not so bad.

— But even so, I think the story is too long and unfocused for a movie. We drag in too many side characters that don’t get enough development to stand out on their own, and as a result, they just needlessly pad out the film’s length. Had this been an anime series instead, we could then fully explore these characters and their issues. But in a two hour movie, the drama felt too forced between the characters, especially with Naoka.

— Speaking of being way too long, I thought the movie would end at the bridge. Wouldn’t that have been the perfect spot? Shoya wakes up from his coma, finally apologizes to Shoko, and confesses his feelings for her. The end. But he doesn’t really confess to her, which is par for the course with anime romances. Instead, he asks her to help him live. Okay, fair enough. That makes him even more vulnerable to her, so you can argue that this is even more intimate than a straightforward confession. But the film doesn’t end there. We wake up the next day to see Shoya return home. To see Shoya have a short talk with Naoka. To see him make up with all his friends, then attend the school festival. To see him finally shed his deafness to his peers and finally hold his head up high. Sure, I can see how this ending completes Shoya’s character arc. But as I’ve argued earlier in this post, A Silent Voice should’ve focused more on Shoko instead. I just wasn’t all that invested in Shoya beyond his relationship with the girl, so this ending fell flat.

— All in all, I thought the movie was maybe 30 to 40 minutes too long, and it didn’t commit to the relationship between the two characters. The relationship didn’t get the proper attention it deserved. It started off dysfunctional, and it should’ve been rebuilt from the bottom up. But our two protagonists became friends way too easily. You can chalk that up to Shoko’s almost angelic patience and understanding. You can also argue that she tries so hard to fit in that she’s deaf to people’s frustrations with her. Their frustrations with her isn’t her fault, but even so, it’s important, for example, to listen to what Naoka is trying to say even if she’s a huuuuuuuge bitch.

(And she is a huge bitch. Again, in an anime series, we could properly explore her mindset. In this movie, though, she’s like a hammer that proceeds to smash every fragile relationship within the friend group.)

— Out of all the bullet points above, I guess my biggest disappointment is that Shoko wasn’t a more fleshed out character. She’s too innocent and pure-hearted that at times she felt like a concept. At times, she didn’t feel real. Shoya is the prototypical anime protagonist, so we hear his thoughts, anxieties, frustrations, moments of bliss and joy, so on and so forth. Meanwhile, the one unique and interesting character is forced to always put on a smile and act like an innocent child that everyone gets to batter. She’s 18 by the end of the film, for Christ’s sakes. She’s on the cusp of adulthood. She has to be more than just a saint who begs for forgiveness. Only when it got to be too much — when she tried to throw herself off a balcony — did the story rein the character in.

— I like Tomohiro. Despite the fact that I think she’s unnecessary, I also like Yuzuru. But I could do without the other side characters. Imagine if we had dragged in Kazuki’s drama as well.

— In the end, I really wanted to love A Silent Voice. And some part of me actually likes it. I like Shoko (and Shoya’s okay). I think, however, this just explains why I’m so frustrated by the movie — frustrated enough to write over 2400 words over the past two hours. The story really had the chance to explore deafness from every dimension. But I feel like A Silent Voice got scared. It was afraid to see how far it could really go if we just focused on Shoko, Shoya, and their relationship. So in the end, we got an the all-too-familiar ending where Shoya and his tomodachis embrace the joys of youth at none other than a school festival.

— I don’t regret watching the movie, though. And on the way out, I got this print for free. You’ll have to excuse my blurry camera phone, thumb and poor framing. I am clearly not meant to be a photographer. The print’s not much either, but I like it.

— I do apologize if there are lots of typos, or if the post just doesn’t make much sense in general. It’s almost midnight, and I’m exhausted. I tried as best as I could to extract my thoughts on the film while it was still fresh on my mind.

The violence in this week’s episode is exactly what I was getting at in my Inuyashiki post. I hope the post I’m about to write isn’t controversial, but you never know. Before we get to my primary point, however, we need a little context. When we last left off, masked soldiers appeared out of nowhere to suddenly lay siege upon the peaceful, idyllic Falaina. What follows is an absolute slaughter. Not only that, it’s a bunch of children being slaughtered. The community is defenseless precisely because it’s assumed to be a paradise by its inhabitants. They live simple lives, and as a result, they have little weapons. They have neither a warning system nor even a plan for such extreme emergencies. The attackers probably know this, so they are seemingly lackadaisical in their mission. In other words, these are not even good soldiers. Anyone can shoot fish in a barrel.

Two of Ouni’s friends have already died, leaving the rest in complete panic. Ouni finally emerges from the bowels of Falaina all cool and collected. He’s had enough of this cruel world, and he’s here to save his friends… well, whatever’s left of them. Surely, the enemy soldiers will now turn and attack Ouni, right? No. Ouni gives a little speech. He’s always yearned for the outside world, and now he finds out it’s full of child murderers. Man, that sucks! Okay, now he’ll have to fight, right? No. Ouni still has time to close one of his dead friends’ eyes. In the distance, the attackers are only now slowly closing in. This sort of violence is infuriating to me. This whole set-up is nothing more than an excuse for Ouni to wield his rage as a blade of vengeance. Children are slaughtered just so we can cheer for his triumphant arrival.

Oh, the manipulative brutality of the violence doesn’t stop there. Lady Taisha is dead, and the Council of Elders have gone silent. The children are left to fend for themselves against faceless, heartless soldiers they can’t possibly hope to understand. Suou has no choice but take the reins. Someone has to do something. Someone has to protect the remaining survivors and lead them through this horrific predicament. Ginshu of the defense force has his back, and she vouches for retaliation. But no, Suou suggests, because we mustn’t kill our enemies. Otherwise, the cycle of violence will never end. Instead, we’ll try to parlay with the enemy. Parlay? Par-lay?! Are you kidding me, dude? But again, this is all by design. Even a pacifist like myself wouldn’t be all “Well, maybe there’s just a misunderstanding!” But Suou is rendered pathetic in order to — you guessed it — make Ouni look cool.

As Suou marches to presumably engage the enemy in a fruitful discussion about their cultural differences and how the two sides can peacefully coexist, blood falls from the sky and lands on his face. Hint: violence is inevitable, you peace-loving hippie. He looks up and what does he see? Why, it’s favorite anti-hero Ouni giving the child murderers their just desserts. With people like Suou around, someone’s gotta do the dirty work! Look, I can understand vengeance. I can understand retaliation. But the shot — I know it’s an anime, but just assume there’s a camera — lingers on Ouni. He’s literally posing for us. No one would awkwardly stand there and hold a skewered body in the air for any other reason but to look cool. Then he kicks the body to the ground, looks over shoulder all heroic like, and flicks the blood off his blade like a bad ass. Ugh. Gimme a break.

But let’s move on. Eventually, the enemy commander — who is apparently Lykos’s older brother — calls off the troops. They got what they came for, which is the ship that Lykos was found on. He didn’t even want the girl. Instead, she’s been left behind as a guinea pig No. 4. A guinea pig for what? We don’t know yet. What is her brother up to? We don’t know yet. All we know is that the attack is off for now, but don’t rest just yet. The soldiers will be back to finish off the rest of Falaina. How do we know this? Well, two enemy soldiers gave this information to Ouni. He didn’t parlay for it; he tortured them. Then afterwards, he killed them. The peace-loving inhabitants are shocked. You can’t do that! Torture is wrong! Here’s where you have the little girl stand in to admonish the peaceniks: “If Ouni hadn’t done it, we’d all be dead in a few days.” Sigh.

I haven’t even gotten to Chakuro, but he isn’t spared either. No, he doesn’t die. But like the rest of the children, he loses his innocence. At first, he tries to escape with Sami, but the girl is dead. The childhood friend doesn’t win here. In fact, she barely last two episodes. And like with Ouni, the soldiers could’ve easily started attacking Chakuro. It’s not easy for a kid to run away with a corpse in his arms. But they don’t. If you want to be charitable to the story, you can again assume that the bad guys are toying with their victims the same way a cat would toy with a mouse. Maybe this is why they’re being really slow and inefficient with executing Chakuro even though they had no issues gunning Sami down immediately. That’s one interpretation. Or you can see this as yet another manipulative scene wherein Chakuro’s despair is ridiculously drawn out in order to justifiably push the kid towards the edge.

Chakuro holds Sami’s lifeless body in his arms and closes his eyes. He’s more a scholar than a fighter. He’s ready to die. But for some fucking reason, three little kids — the same three kids that Chakuro lives with — come running at him, screaming for their brother. Oh ho, more defenseless children to slaughter! Well, why don’t we try parlaying? No? How ’bout getting on our knees and begging for mercy? Hmm, that doesn’t seem to work either. I guess our hero has no choice but to suddenly ignite this thymia and do battle. Here’s where some of you might misunderstand me. I don’t care that Chakuro is fighting back. Sometimes, you do have to fight back. What I hate is the way violence is being used. It’s not consistent in its portrayal. One minute, children are dying left and right without mercy. Another minute, it slows down so the heroes can look cool.

The world has good guys and it has bad guys. When bad guys do bad things, good guys have to stop them. Sometimes, good guys will have to regrettably take a life in order to really stop the bad guys. Sometimes, this is just unavoidable. We can all sensibly agree to that. What I don’t like is when violence is glorified. Children are butchered right before our eyes. Ugh, how horrific! How terrible! We must stop these guys! Ouni then guts a soldier, poses with the body, then goes on to torture two of them. Hey, he’s just doing the dirty work that nobody wants to do! Finally, someone is doing something! What I fear is that violence is being employed by this story as an ideological cudgel. People will go to great lengths when they think they’re doing the right thing. But don’t condemn murder, then turn around and look like a badass while killing someone.

At the very least, don’t hide behind a child’s tears.

I normally throw in quick thoughts on other shows, but this write-up ended up being longer than I expected, so I’ll just make this a Food Wars! only post. To kick things off, we have Kuga rubbing his success in Soma’s face. Ah, what a lovable scamp. The latter offers Kuga a black pepper bun, but it is quickly rejected. I find this a little odd. A legitimate chef would want to try everything. You can only become a good cook by tasting as much as you can and thus enlarge your palette. I get it. He disrespects Soma. He thinks Soma’s food is beneath him, he’s full of hubris, so on and so forth. But again, that just shows that he’s not a legitimate chef.

By the way, we get the same montage of cooks tossing woks and diners breathing fire for the past three weeks. I guess it’s a way to save money, but still…

When we last left off, Soma made the decision to challenge Kuga head-on. He, too, will whip up a version of mapo tofu. Kuga prides himself on authentic Sichuan cuisine, so it’s obvious that our hero can’t challenge him on that front. What he can do — and what he’s always done — is be insanely inventive. That’s the hope, anyway. Alright, show me your secret weapon. What exactly are you going to add to your mapo tofu that sets it apart from all the other mapo tofus?

Soma starts off by adding noodles to the dish. Uh, that’s interesting. But wait, there’s more! On top of the noodles sits a giant meatball. Wow, that’s a lot of damn protein. Tofu itself is full of protein. Then in addition to that, you have mincemeat thrown into the mix. Now you’re going to drop a gigantic meatball on top of everything and expect the customer to eat it in one sitting? But wait, there’s more! When you break into the meatball, you’ll find a golden ball of… curry. Of-fucking-course. It’s anime. It’s always gotta be curry.

You know, some curry spice added to mapo tofu does legitimately sound delicious. But that’s not what we’re talking about. We’re literally taking a glob of curry that has been suspended with a bit of gelatin, then allowed to pour out onto the mapo tofu. That’s really weird. And I honestly can’t even begin to imagine what this bizarre concoction will taste like. You’ve got mapo tofu, which is already aggressively spiced. Not only that, it’s pretty damn mushy. Now you’re throwing in a giant meatball and curry. Protein on top of protein on top of protein. Spice on top of spice. Mushy on top of mushy. And noodles aren’t exactly a huge texture contrast by themselves. Sorry, but this dish just sounds bizarre and a bit disgusting. But hey, I could be wrong. I could also buy some curry and some mapo tofu and mix them up myself, but that sounds expensive.

For just this episode, the logistical side of running a restaurant is actually more interesting to me. Kuga might have a wildly successful restaurant, but the line ends up being too long. In order to fit in more customers, he’s trying to flip the covers far too quickly. This yields a bad customer experience, which is a big no no in the business of hospitality. Besides, it’s fucking Chinese food. Chinese food is immensely portable. Why isn’t he offering takeout so customers can just fly through the doors? Is that against the rule or something? His obvious lack of business acumen eventually leads to hungry, angry customers, which, in turn, are lured away by the smell of Soma’s curry mapo tofu concoction. He slowly begins to stage his comeback. But how can two people pull this off when Kuga’s giant restaurant is struggling with the same amount of customers?

This is where friends from all over the place begin to pitch in. How heartwarming. I don’t really think Megumi could possibly handle the front of the house by herself, but it’s anime. I’m sure she can somehow seat the customers, take their orders, serve food to their tables without any mix-ups, bus the tables, do the dishes, and collect the money all by her lonesome.

As an aside, some restaurants will only do one set of covers. In other words, when you book a table, you have it for the rest of the night. This way, you can take your time to enjoy the meal. You can take breaks in the middle of courses, you can linger afterwards with a nice cup of coffee, so on and so forth. But restaurants that are willing to do this are also restaurants that probably serve an extensive tasting menu. You’re probably expected to pay hundreds of dollars a person. In other words, this model might fit Erina’s restaurant.

As I watch these the generic anime crowd enjoy their meal and walk away happy, I can’t help but wonder why nobody’s serving dessert. Y’know, tofu is surprisingly versatile, you could make a killer dessert with vanilla, coconut, etc. The soft, creamy texture of tofu would actually help to soothe the palette after all that spicy food.that washes away the heavy spiciness of both the mapo tofu and curry.

When it finally turns dark, Soma gets even more help. The RS Culture Club lends him a bunch of Chinese lanterns to pretty up the place. This somehow makes people want to order more food. Sure. Studies seem to support the idea that the color red affects your hunger. This is why fast food places lean so heavily on red, orange and yellow colors. Y’see, you can major in psychology to help people, but you can also use your education to manipulate them into throwing away money instead.

By the end of the day, Soma finds himself in first place, and he couldn’t have done it without the power of teamwork. Isn’t that nice? Does this mean we’ll see a counterattack from Kuga in next week’s episode, or can we finally move onto the formal, 1-on-1 food battle? In any case, I was moderately entertained by this week’s episode. We got right to the point, which is cooking and dining. And that’s all I really wanted out of this anime. I’m not expecting Food Wars! to blow me away with deep characterizations, intricate plotting, or thought-provoking themes. I just want delicious-looking food with a small dash of shounen-flavored hyperbole. We finally get an episode that largely delivers on this front, so I’m fine with it.

Final note: the curry dish with chocolate actually sounds tasty. There’s no need to 3D print the chocolate, though. You could’ve just folded ribbons of chocolate by hand. They won’t be uniform, but it’s fine. Also, I think rice is unnecessary here.

Since I wrote about Food Wars! separately, I felt I needed to throw in an extra show for this post. I just feel bad if it seems like I didn’t put enough effort into an update. On the one hand, Juuni Taisen has consistently failed to draw me in. I did pretty much decide to drop it after last week’s episode. On the other hand, this would be a super short post without it, so I gave the show another shot.

Credit where credit’s due, the anime finally broke a bad habit: it stopped killing people shortly after presenting their backstories. This week, we delve a bit into Monkey’s past, but she doesn’t die at the end of the episode. I’m shocked too! Monkey might be the only warrior here who isn’t a full blown asshole, and if so, this tournament is just a microcosm of the world at large. Twelve of the best warriors have been gathered together to fight to the death. Some of them don’t really want to fight, but that doesn’t also mean they don’t want their opponents to die. Monkey is the only participant who wholeheartedly embraces a peaceful resolution. Rat is on her side for now, but he doesn’t hide his disdain for others. And when you really stop to think about it, the world’s not so different. You can try as you might to broker peace, but you can’t always talk it out. It doesn’t always boil down to misunderstandings and ignorance. Sometimes, people are simply evil and selfish. But Monkey is the optimistic type who will continue to fight for what she believes in even if she fails over and over. She’s still young, though. She might think Rat has a lot to learn — he’s only a teenager so he’s even younger than her — but she should really worry about herself. After all, there’s still time to chip away at that idealism. If anything’s a constant in life, it’s time:

“If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”

I just wanted to be pretentious and quote Hemingway. But still, I wonder if her lover can truly be as patient and strong as she wants him to be. Well, that’s assuming she even survives this tournament.

Kekkai Sensen & Beyond Ep. 3

This week’s episode features four brief glimpses at four individuals: Leo, Zapp, Chain and Steven. There’s nothing too deep or interesting here. Just a bunch of somewhat amusing vignettes to kill time. I usually jot down notes whenever I watch an episode, but I only had two for this episode:

• Did she just kill someone?

Context: Tracy, one of Zapp’s lovers, walks in on him with another woman. Good news: she’s more concerned about her lost cat than his philandering. Bad news: she’s really psycho for her cat. Tracy casts some sort of spell on the other woman’s breasts and… did the woman’s breasts just explode? Is she dead? Well, the same spell wraps itself around Zapp’s dick, and nothing gets a guy going more than penile stimulation.

• It’d be better if everyone didn’t have human voices.

Context: Veded, Steven’s housekeeper, is not human, but she speaks as though she’s a gentle older woman with a big heart. One of my favorite things in sci-fi is when different species and races would speak their own language, but the main characters could still understand them. It’s an effective world-building trick. I don’t think making up a fake language is that difficult. It’s fine if it sounds like complete gibberish to us. It’s not like you need to recruit a linguistics professor or anything.

Anyways, I want to be able to dive deep into every show I watch, but it’s just not always possible.

Evil or Live Ep. 3

We continue to oscillate wildly between deadly serious prison thriller and lame anime humor. Now go back to the previous sentence and remove the words “thriller” and “humor.” When we last left off, Shiori needed to get her hands on a phone, but Shin will only give her one if she sleeps with Hibiki. Unfortunately, she can’t keep herself from throwing up every time she tries to get close to the guy. So what does Hibiki do? He fills the condom with her vomit, and somehow this works…? I’m not sure what Evil or Live is trying to accomplish here. Is this supposed to be funny? Campy?

Afterwards, Hibiki goes to his dorm room and meets his roommates. Everyone welcomes him at first, but it becomes quickly apparent that they only want to take advantage of his ties with Shin. They send him to get food from the cafeteria, and at this prison, you can get delicious-looking food in exchange for food tickets. Naturally, Hibiki doesn’t have any, so instead, he grabs a bunch of the free stuff. Even though it’s supposedly disgusting, he doesn’t have any problems eating any of it. When he gets back to the dorm room, everyone’s mad at him. Unfortunately, they’re all a bunch of nerds addicted to the internet, so they can’t even beat him up. Someone out there must think this is really funny or something, but like the vomit condom, it just feels dumb. The show isn’t campy enough to pull this sort of thing off.

But it’s time to swing the pendulum violently back in the other direction. Outdoor exercises are led by none other than the head instructor, and if you can’t speak to him without stuttering, you’ll get a swift kick to the stomach. So all of a sudden, we’re back to prison thriller territory. Unfortunately, the characters are stupid, the setting is stupid, and the premise is stupid. So there’s nothing particularly thrilling about any of this. All I have is this weird, half-assed mixture of genres. It’s like… eating mapo tofu with noodles and curry-stuffed meatballs.

Kino’s Journey (2017) Ep. 3

Well, I’ve given the series three whole episodes, and I don’t think I really want to continue. I thought I was going to see a beautiful world. I was hoping for something mature and contemplative like Mushishi. Instead, all I’ve been shown so far are a bunch of asshole countries. This week, Kino stumbles upon a technologically advanced country that travels on wheels. It goes where it pleases, and it doesn’t really care if you object. If another country stands in its way, it’ll just use a giant fuck-off laser to carve a path. Oh, it doesn’t want to kill anybody. It’s not evil! The country will thus warn people to get out of the way… shortly before running over their home and farmland. At best, the country and its inhabitants resemble humanity’s selfishness. We’ll scar Mother Earth, and we might feel bad about it, but eh… what are we gonna do? Humans gotta human, and this country’s gotta travel. And yet, all Kino can mutter is “What a bothersome country.” Well, Kino’s lukewarm assessment deserves an equally lukewarm response from me. Meh to Kino’s Journey.

What should I replace Kino’s Journey with? Is there a fall show I’m not watching that deserves a closer look?

In the present day, Nobuaki drops a bombshell that the dead game started in some dinky Japanese village. He, Kenta and Mizuki all decide to travel to said village, because… there might be records or something? Records of what? If you could dig up records, why not contact the police and show them the messages? Even if your story sounds outlandish, they can’t outright dismiss it at this point. Why not contact your phone provider to find out who’s sending these messages? Because it’s not possible, right? Because if you try, the phone provider will claim they have no records, right? So why would the village have them?

But in the meantime, we get another flashback. Our victim is Nami, a girl who also likes Nobuaki. First, is this the first time we’ve met her? I can’t seem to recall her from any previous episodes. Second, why does everyone like this asshole? Let’s not forget he coordinated his friend’s rape. Third, Nami is as dumb as a sack of bricks. She’s been given a relatively simple order: give yourself an order and follow it as if it was issued by the King. Okay, I order myself to get a chocolate shake. Boom. Done. But no, the girl is stupid, so she orders herself to touch the King. Y’see, Nobuaki has this theory that one of their classmates might just be the King. What if he’s wrong, though? Well…

Nobuaki: “But if the king isn’t in our class? What then?”

Nami: “You believe that the king is in our class, right? Then I do, too. That’s good enough for me!”

But the girl isn’t even the dumbest thing about this week’s episode. This week’s episode is the dumbest thing about this week’s episode. Before this flashback even started, Nobuaki tells us right off the bat that his theory is wrong. So immediately, I know Nami is wrong and will thus be punished.

SHHHHHHHHHHPPPPPPPPPPPPPT.

Hear that? That’s the sound of suspense and tension being sucked out of the story. Despite this, the story insists on belaboring the point anyway. During the following school day, Nami touches each of her classmates one by one only to discover that — surprise, surprise — she’s a dumbass. I don’t it. Why would you shoot yourself in the foot like this? The story’s predictable enough as it is, so why would you go and spoil the outcome? Why would you then make us sit through such a long and ultimately pointless scene when we already know what’s going to happen next?

In the end, Nami isn’t punished by death. Instead, she loses her eyesight. Oh well, that’s not the end of the world. The next King’s order goes to Nobuaki: he has to lose something important. Well, it can’t be his innocence. He already lost that when he told his girlfriend to rape his best friend. No, I won’t drop it. Yes, I’ll probably sneak this into every Ousama Game post from here on out. Anyway, this is about Nami and how dumb she is. Most people would be mad at themselves for even considering such a dumb idea. She basically blinded herself. She could also blame Nobuaki for his half-baked theory. But no, she still loves him. And because she loves him, she hopes that by committing suicide, he’ll have lost something important. So when the guy falls asleep on her, she goes to do just that.

In his desperation, our hero phones his girlfriend, and tells her he had spent all night with Nami. He evenfucked her. Yeah, that’s right! They had sex! Maybe if he loses his girlfriend, i.e. someone who is actually important to him, Nami won’t have to die. Just because he doesn’t want her to die doesn’t mean she’s actually important to him. But by the time he gets to the beach, all that he finds are her footprints and a love confession written in the sand. He eventually gets a text to confirm his obedience. But you don’t really know if Nami’s plan worked. Maybe he only got that text because he made Chiemi break up with him. So again, it’s possible that she screwed herself for no reason at all. No, wait, she screwed herself over for an asshole like Nobu–… nah, I was right the first time. She screwed herself for no reason at all.

Also, the story doesn’t even bother to address last week’s events. How did Naoya react when he woke up? Shrug. Who cares. Had sex. I mean, look how happy he is.

Ando rejects Hiro’s friendship. It’s just not right. He can’t be friends with someone who kills. But the latter is perplexed: “I’ve always been like this.” Hiro finally convinces his friend to come to school, and it doesn’t take long for the bullies to smell blood in the water. They immediately try to pick on Ando, but this time, Hiro is there to intervene. He manages to scare the ringleader away, but it’s not enough. After school, he takes aim at the rest of the gang like some sort of rooftop sniper. Bang. Bang. Bang. Again, I appreciate how this anime approaches violence. Last week’s episode gave us an uncompromising and harrowing glimpse at Hiro’s sadism. We adopted his perspective, and as a result, we got a front-row seat to his murdering spree. In contrast, the body count in this week’s episode is even higher, and yet, MAPPA leaves much to the imagination.

The first round of victims practically die offscreen; we see only what Ando can see through binoculars. The second round of victims certainly die offscreen. Following his friend’s rejection, Hiro takes his anger out on yet another unsuspecting family and perhaps a pair of children playing in the streets. We adopt Ando’s point of view each time. Literally in the first case, and metaphorically in the second. We are the powerless bystander. Not only can we do nothing to help these victims, we don’t even get to see the whole truth. Hiro’s violence is no joke. He isn’t putting on a show. He doesn’t pose like one of his favorite manga characters. He’s just a ruthless murderer. Worst of all, Hiro’s always been like this. It’s as if he’s asking Ando, “Why are you bothered now? I’ve always been this heartless. I’ve never cared about others. I only now have the powers to do anything about it. How do you think you really know me?”

Hiro seems to accept the fact that Ando will no longer be his friend, but even as he leaves, he mutters, “Just don’t skip school anymore, okay?” He keeps insisting on this. Why, I wonder. Earlier in the episode, Hiro said school would be boring without Ando. It’s easy, then, to write him off as just another bored, selfish kid who only looks out for his own personal enjoyment, but I actually do think he cares about Ando. The problem is that he only cares about his friends. His victims are nothing to him. They’re playthings. They’re mobs in a video game. They’re extras in a movie. They’re fodder. Remember, this is a guy who tears up after reading a good manga. He’s not completely devoid of feelings. At the very least, he seems to take his favorite manga to heart, and these tales always tell you to be loyal to your friends. I bet Hiro believes that wholeheartedly.

But aren’t shounen manga typically full of heroic, compassionate characters who can do no wrong? Why, then, does Hiro kill so indiscriminately and so heartlessly? Well, he’s not here to play the hero. He finds that troublesome, after all. And what comically evil villain has ever cared about killing extras? Obviously, manga is not to blame. No manga or book or movie or what have you can ever drive a sound mind to brutally murder a family out of cold blood. The kid is fundamentally broken. Even so, you wouldn’t turn to manga to raise a kid, so I’m not surprised that Hiro looks at his victims as though they’re just faceless nobodies in one of his favorite comic books. Hiro would have to go out of his way to save people. He would have to try and save as many people as he can. He would also have to feel bad if he failed. Killing random nobodies is so much easier by comparison.

Belief is a powerful thing. Does Hiro need to say “bang” each time? No, it completes the illusion. Unlike Hiro, Ichiro has little to no mastery over his superpowers. It’s not like he even wants this body. He feels no longer human; he feels as though his heart is growing cold. It’s not a surprise, therefore, that he hasn’t really bothered to see what his new body is fully capable of. But when Ichiro hears a family caught in a burning home, he needs to get there in a hurry. He saw Hiro rocket off into the skies at the start of the episode, so he should be able to do the same thing. At first, however, Ichiro’s body wouldn’t cooperate. This is like trying to sprint for the first time when you’ve been nothing but a couch potato. In Ichiro’s case, he’s probably hasn’t physically exerted himself in not just years but decades. He also looks like and believes himself to be a frail, old man. Belief is everything, so naturally, his body doesn’t respond. Even if your body is made out of alien technology, what good is it if your spirit is as weak as your former flesh?

And that’s why Ichiro begins to sing the Astro Boy theme song. “He may be small, but only in size. Astro Boy! Astro Boy!” Slowly but surely, Ichiro strengthens his resolve, and his body begins to respond in kind. He needs to believe. “Falling won’t kill me,” he reassures himself. And like Hiro, Ichiro draws his inspiration from a similar source. The difference is — and what a crucial difference it is! — that Ichiro sees himself as an underdog. These two are not underdogs in any literal sense. They’re more like gods. Hiro rattles off a list of things he can do: launch a nuclear missile, hack into any network around the world, give himself as much money as he wants from ATMs, so on and so forth. He’s got no reason to lie. He can even cure major diseases, and Ichiro is no different. But whereas Hiro only has 16 or 17 years of experience to shape his mentality, his counterpart bears the burden of decades on his shoulders. Ichiro’s been a loser for a long time now. He’s been a worthless ojiisan for a long time now. That’s why he needs to see himself as a plucky underdog.

Ichiro comes across a dying cat in the streets. A car had just run it over, and a nearby kitten is crying frantically for its mother. With his touch, however, the old man inadvertently heals the dying cat’s wounds. It then gets up and leaves with its kitten as if nothing ever happened. Ichiro quickly realizes that he can save the terminally ill; he can even cure cancer. It really makes you wonder how different the story might be if he had discovered his powers sooner. Might he have been able to save the family from last week’s episode? Well, it’s likely he can only heal the sick and the wounded as opposed to raising the dead. The family was already cold by the time Ichiro got to them. But even if he can save people from a burning home or heal the wounded, is this really a realistic goal? Maybe that’s why being a hero is so troublesome. We can’t really save everyone.

Crime happens all the time. Misfortune happens all the time. A burning house, a hurricane, and people contracting cancer are all examples of bad things that Ichiro can prevent, but he’s not omnipotent. He can’t be everywhere at once. We still don’t fully know how his powers work either. Doesn’t it require energy to heal someone? Won’t he eventually tire himself out? It comes down to triage. As a cat person, I’m glad he saved that cat. As a general animal lover in general, I wish he could’ve saved a poor dog that Hiro shot to death in the same episode. But every opportunity is fittingly accompanied by a missed opportunity. Perhaps several missed opportunities. Saving a salaryman from being beaten up by thugs might mean he can’t save another person from being assaulted or even murdered. Healing cancer patients is a noble act, but even though Ichiro has to remain cognizant of the fact that Hiro is killing so much more. He’s got a far more pressing issue to attend to.

Can I continue to build a case for Ena? Look, she’s a cat person, so that’s already a huge plus in my book. As for dogs… eh. I don’t hate dogs, and I could even live with one as long as I didn’t have to walk it. But they need to be big dogs. I don’t want to deal with those tiny, yelping pocket dogs. At that point, they may as well be shitty cats that you have to walk. Ena’s also got a better hairstyle than Mio. Is that too superficial? Well, I mean, the real reason I think she’s better is because she’s assertive, but people seem to find that aspect of hers annoying, so what can I say? I like that she has an actual passion beyond studying broadly for exams. I like that she can playfully tease Eita, and not just smile like a perfect, little angel all the time. Personally, I don’t mind butting heads a bit so long as we can hash it out like adults afterwards. Wait, what were we talking about again? Oh yeah, I’m trying to lead the campaign to make anime romances great again. Stop picking the quiet, awkward heroine. She doesn’t even like you, my guy. Most of all, Mio’s screwing herself on her exams — and thereby her future — over a boy. A boy who isn’t even all that bright or ambitious himself. A boy she only likes because… he gave her an eraser? C’mon. Then again, what Eita likes most about Mio is that she’s awkward. Kids…

Again, Ena is persistent. For now, she’s really only after one thing: saving her club. She’s ready to pull out all the stops in order to accomplish this. But I can respect that. I can respect her drive, quick wit, and resourcefulness. Meanwhile, Mio continues to drown in her feelings, trapped between being a good friend to Haruto and confessing her love. But lest we become Hazuki, being selfish once in a while is a good thing. And maybe Ena is a bit too pushy. Maybe Ena is being a little too blatant about her aims. She’s not hanging out with Eita because she wants to be his friend (for now at least). But she’s also not hiding anything. Ena’s very honest about what she wants, and in a story full of hidden feelings, stolen glances, and hesitant hearts, I like Ena’s ability to cut right to the chase. Too bad I feel like this might change soon. Maybe I’m being too pessimistic, but I feel that if she ever caught actual feelings for anyone, she too would devolve into a shy, easily embarrassed shoujo unable to confess her true feelings. Maybe I’m wrong. I hope I’m wrong. But even so, we also already know who’s going to win out in the end. For now, I’ll just continue to root for the honest girl.

The other girls can’t help but lie. No, they’re not bad people. Lying isn’t always immoral. After all, they’re not really lying to anyone but themselves. The episode opens with Hazuki and her brothers at the supermarket. She’s picking up groceries for dinner, whereas the kids are hunting for candy. It’s just what you do, isn’t it? The adults are busy working to put a roof over their heads, and now that she’s almost an adult herself, she has to chip in. Even though Hazuki’s just a teenager, she has the responsibilities of a mother. She has to take care of her siblings. She has to make dinner. She has to make sure they do their homework, bathe themselves, then go to sleep on time. When it’s all over — when she has to go to college because, again, it’s just what you do — she can finally hand her responsibilities down to her kid sister. The cycle thus repeats itself. It’s a reminder that even in this day and age, some families depend on having a large family in order to keep the business running. In these households, child-rearing resembles a family quilt. No kid is raised in isolation. No kid has a single set of parents. Every older sibling sacrifices a bit of themselves, leaving behind a patchwork of familial love and care.

But I still feel sad for Hazuki. She’s too focused on her family to reveal what her heart really wants. Even at the shrine, she makes no mention of what she desires. Instead, she only wishes for her friends and family. When it comes to anything else, Hazuki nonchalantly hides behind those sleepy, placid smiles of hers as if nobody will notice. She’s a natural; she’s been at this for a long, long time. But still, we need not look any further than a tiny, seemingly insignificant moment between her and her younger sister to steal a quick glimpse at Hazuki’s inner desires. “It’s gonna be a lot of trouble looking after Mitsuru and Yuzuru,” Hazuki’s sister whines, “Living along sounds nice. And it sounds super fun, too!” In this scene, she serves as Hazuki’s mirror, and the reflection is not exactly a happy one. She wants to be excited about going off to college on her own, but in reality, she feels too much guilt. She’ll have to leave her family behind, and without her, life will definitely be harder for them. The two sisters are cut from the same cloth, but the younger one hasn’t learned to hide her feelings yet. But don’t get me wrong. There’s genuine joy in Hazuki’s voice when she speaks about her brothers, so being the dutiful, care-taking oneechan is not the problem. Hazuki lacking any sort of identity is the actual issue at hand.

Everyone had planned to do the first shrine visit together, but in truth, the others just wanted Haruto and Hazuki to finally have some time alone with each other. So Yoriko, Mio and Eita all make excuses to duck out of the event. As the night progresses, Haruto slowly gains courage. Sure enough, he finally summons enough spirit to confess his feelings. Give it your all, kid! Everyone’s rooting for you… even if some are reluctant about it. Haruto pulls Hazuki away from the festivities, and alone under the cold, winter sky, he asks her to go out with him. With perfect timing, a passing train delays Hazuki’s answer. It gives her time to think. It’s as if she has too much time to think. We know she would never act impulsively, but the train made sure Haruto had no chance of hearing a favorable answer. She doesn’t get flustered. She doesn’t look away. Rather, she seems prepared as if she knew this was coming. She returns his gaze without pause. To nobody’s surprise, Hazuki rejects Haruto. She doesn’t provide a reason, but we don’t need one. As the way things are now, she has no time to date. Soon, she’ll be off to college. Until then, she has to take care of her siblings. So when exactly would she have time to date? “I can’t go out with you,” is what she says. Not “I won’t go with you.” Even if Hazuki finally allows herself to be selfish, something else would have to give.

But it goes even further than that. It may seem as though I’ve been advocating over and over for the girl to prioritize herself for once in her life. After all, I think she’s destined for a life of self-resentment if she continues to neglect what her heart truly wants. But at the same time, you can’t just snap your fingers and instantly change your life. Finding the time and energy to devote to herself and just herself will be a process. It will take time. It’s not as easy as simply saying yes to Haruto’s request, and that’s why she said no. Haruto’s simple-minded. So far, he’s the most straight-forward and uncomplicated character out of the main cast. He isn’t considering Hazuki’s situation at all. He isn’t considering what their relationship would even look like when she has to go to college. He’s barely considering his own future. So even if Hazuki could afford to date, why would she choose him? He’s not a bad guy, but he hasn’t proven himself to be dependable whatsover. He’s barely spoken to her till now, and most damning of all, he can’t even be sure it’s her trumpet that he always hears on the practice field. She’s just a concept to fill a gap in his life. The rejection doesn’t mean Haruto’s chances are over, but he has some serious reflection ahead of him.

Hazuki’s rejection isn’t the only rejection we got tonight. Mio is full of contradictions. She needs to focus on her entrance exams, a fact which she brings up repeatedly like a broken record. She is therefore not just trying to convince others, but she’s also trying to convince herself as well. Her mind says she has more to worry about high school romance and an unrequited love. It’s just a pity she can’t convince her heart to share the same sentiment. Shy does she nevertheless continue help Haruto? Mio is rationalizing. She is spinning up more lies, which she can use to excuse herself from studying. It’s okay if she spends time with Haruto, because she’s actually helping him confess to Hazuki. If he succeeds, she reasons, then that door will be closed to her forever. She won’t have to confess her feelings, which means she won’t have to confront them either. She won’t have to move on. But in truth, all she’s really doing is hurting herself, and this pain has a curious and unintended side effect. It constantly reminds her that her feelings for Haruto are real. Her feelings for him are serious, and as a result, they will not go away. They cannot go away. If they weren’t serious, why would they hurt so much? You can’t just tell yourself to forget someone. You can’t bury unrequited love by exposing yourself to it.

Despite the show’s poor production values, I actually appreciate the way it can convey the characters’ feelings through their facial expressions. Mio isn’t good at hiding her feelings, and Eita can tell. Even her damn dog can tell, a fact which makes me crack up every time I see that concerned face. Sadly, the only person who can’t tell is Haruto. But if he can’t notice a friend in pain even when she’s right in front of him, he has no luck navigating Hazuki’s carefully veiled feelings. Mio can’t hide behind her words either. Even when she’s alone with Eita at a shrine full of sights to see and things to do, the conversation always loops back to Haruto and Hazuki. She wonders, “…I wonder if he was able to ask her out,” but deep down, she really hopes he can’t. “I hope it doesn’t turn out like the last time,” she says. She thinks he shouldn’t have led off with “I’m free tomorrow.” In truth, she’s hoping Haruto’ll goof up the confession the same way he goofed up his first attempt to ask Hazuki out. There’s an optimism in her voice, but it’s not for his sake. It’s really for her sake. She then drags Eita to draw love fortunes, hoping to assuage her anxious heart with words of the divine. Mio can’t help but grimace when her fortune is not as positive as she would like.

Naturally, Eita’s responses to Mio are also attempts to hide his true feelings. “Who knows” is really “Who knows if I can do the same?” “It’s amazing that he tried” is really “I don’t think I could ever do it.” But as it turns out, he could and he did. Eita is frustrated that Mio keeps hurting herself, so he calls her out on her lies and excuses. She lashes out by more or less saying it’s none of his business. To her, he’s just an outsider who doesn’t understand how she feels. He’s just a casual friend who came back after a long absence. What does he know about her unrequited feelings? She keeps bringing up the fact that he didn’t recognize her the first time they had seen each other in a long time. I believe he did recognize her, though. And along with that, he recognized that those feelings he had tried to bury in the past — the same sort of feelings that Mio has for Haruto — were suddenly rushing back into his mind. He was at a loss for words, and she mistook that for him not recognizing her.

Sadly, Eita knows all to well what it feels like to see someone you care about only have eyes for someone else. Maybe he’s only helping Haruto Oh, if only she knew. So he evens the score and confesses to Mio. Once he realizes what he’s done, he starts to head home. He’s not waiting for her answer, because unlike Hazuki, she doesn’t have a response. Of course she doesn’t. He didn’t ask to go out with her nor did he ask to become her boyfriend. He didn’t confess because he had hoped things would change between them. For so long, Eita had been setting his own feelings aside, because he resembles a wallflower. He doesn’t like being the center of attention, and he seems more comfortable in one-on-one situations. But despite it all, even Eita realized he couldn’t be silent anymore. He had to tell her what she doesn’t have the courage to tell Haruto. And in a way, he confesses his feelings in order to hurt Mio. Not maliciously. Not cruelly. But like a figurative slap across the face, he hopes to set the record straight.

When Mio first hears Eita’s confession, she furrows her brows then turns away. She doesn’t verbally reject him, but she seems almost resentful. Does she think he is lying to her? Does she think he’s being bothersome? As if she didn’t have it hard enough, he’s complicating the situation even more. Even he feels as though he has wronged her, so he apologizes: “That was uncalled for. Sorry.” Eita then walks past Mio to head on home. She tries to maintain her anger at first. He raised his voice at her, and now he has the audacity to leave? But when she glances at him, she finally notices the rueful expression on his face. He shouldn’t have said anything. He’s ruined everything. Even if she accepts the apology, how can they hang out as just the two of them anymore? Meanwhile, Mio appears stunned for a brief moment. Has it finally dawned on her that his feelings are genuine? That he isn’t just making things worse to get back at her? Her face then relaxes as if she’s beginning to think. She’s beginning to reflect. Her mind is perhaps in overdrive, poring through every moment they’ve spent together — even moments she thought she had forgotten from years ago. How? When? Why? Then finally, Mio turns her gaze downward again, and only melancholy remains in her expression. The girl stays motionless until the episode comes to an end. We won’t know what conclusion she’s drawn (if any) until next week’s episode.

An untold confession is little different from an unsent letter that one might refuse to throw away. Why? Because what we have written deserves to be read. We’ve simply also accepted that nobody deserves to read it. The letter is too important to us — too precious — to be entrusted to the person it is addressed to. We know in our hearts that they can’t appreciate the letter for what it’s worth. So we hold onto the letter, affirming its content more than ever before. And in our dreams, we send the letter to the fantasy equivalent of our addressee, whom we can count on to truly understand what we hope to say. We treat our confessions in much the same way. To truly free ourselves from this self-imposed prison, we must confess. But for better or worse, our fantasy would then have to disappear as we come face to face with the subject of our affections. So oftentimes, we choose to lie to ourselves so that we may continue to dream. We hold onto that unsent letter, so that when we close our eyes, we continue to see those perfect moments that no one else can take away. Not even the person we love.

Sophie’s search for her brother Martin takes her away from the crime and filth of the city and into the sleepy suburbs. In her mind, the police won’t take Martin’s disappearance seriously. In actuality, they probably just have no leads. It’s not their fault their memories get wiped every single time a Makai Knight quells the latest Horror of the week. And if Horrors are truly behind Martin’s disappearance, then it’s really out of the police’s hands anyway. Sophie can only turn to Sword for help, but even then, she’s run out of leads. Luckily, her roommate fills her in on a rumor regarding the mysterious disappearance of Father Ripley. As we all know, rumors are always true, and if Sophie pays Ripley’s home a visit, she’s sure to bump into Sword sooner or later.

I subtitled this post “The talented Mr. Ripley” just to reference a film adaptation of a novel by the same name. In actuality, anime Ripley is a loser who beats his sister, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves. In the suburbs, Sophie finds Marie, Ripley’s younger sister. Neighbors describe the latter as sickly but beautiful. Unfortunately, she rarely shows herself in public anymore since Ripley’s disappearance. Still, Marie seems friendly enough as she happily invites a stranger into her own home. She and Sophie quickly bond over their shared tragedy; both their brothers have gone missing under mysterious circumstances. In another universe, this might be the start of a long and touching friendship. But Sophie’s hunch bears fruit when they hear a knock at the door.

Sword has arrived with a bouquet full of fresh flowers for Miss Marie. After checking the sickly woman out, he offers her a shoulder to lean on. “I know things can get tough for a single woman living alone” says Sword. Hear that, ladies? You all need a strappin’ lad in your life. Preferably one with a talking bike. In the background, Sophie can only stare in disbelief. But she should know better. Trouble follows Sword wherever he goes. Well, that’s not really fair of me. Even if he is a lecherous bastard, Sword always does his job and he does his job well. We’ve no reason to think he’s a screw-up. If he’s here, he’s here on a mission. A Horror cannot be far off, and his mild flirtation appears to be the trigger. I can only wonder how he knows. What led Sword here, and why does he know exactly how to draw out the Horror lurking within?

There’s a strange moment just earlier in the episode. Sophie looks upon a picture of Marie, and praises the woman for her beauty: “You’re so pretty, even now.” But Marie denies it; in her eyes, she’s no longer beautiful. To the audience, however, she looks no different than what we can see in the photograph. As we’ve come to expect, things are not always what they seem. Soon enough, Marie’s facade begins to crumble. Father Ripley was no saint. Rather, he was jealous of other men, so he kept his beautiful sister from living her life. He robbed her of her youth and kept her locked away in the basement. Over the years, her sadness would bloom into resentment, and she soon became a Horror. When Marie attempts to steal Sophie’s youth, the young girl escapes to the basement. There, she stumbles upon a dried out husk of Ripley’s head. He has become like the flowers that Marie now dutifully preserves.

It’s interesting how victims of trauma will prevent themselves from healing by reliving the horrific acts that they used to endure. At first glance, there’s nothing morbid about Marie’s hobby. It’s perfectly ordinary: she plants and grows flowers, then when they are at full bloom — when they are at their most beautiful — she plucks them from the ground and bundles them, hanging them upside down to dry in her home. In doing so, Marie preserves the flowers’ beauty for as long as she can. But knowing her past, we now see how her hobby disturbingly resembles her brother’s abuse. Rather than letting Marie enjoy her youth and age gracefully, he cut her life short, then “hung her to dry.” He preserves her beauty for himself to enjoy and enjoy alone. Even now, after he is long dead, Marie forces herself to suffer this abuse again and again through her hobby.

Did Marie become a Horror before she killed Ripley or after? Did she become a Horror because she was imprisoned, or did she become one because she couldn’t move on even after exacting her revenge (the torture equipment in the basement was certainly put to good use)? Maybe Marie thinks she can steal those flowers’ beauty and restore her youth. In any case, Sword quickly shows up to save the day. The battle against Marie is not particularly remarkable as victory is assured, and no one is ever in any real danger (despite Sophie’s close call). In the end, Sword cleaves the Horror in two and rides off with the girl in tow. But what about the house filled with torture equipment and Ripley’s head? What about the big mess from the fallen church bell and Zaruba crashing into a small, nearby building? Eh, I’m sure Luke will show up at some point to clean it all up. Marie suffered a painful life, and people will hardly know she ever existed.

Stray thoughts and observations:

— Sophie says she’s from Russell City, RS. RS? What the hell is an RS? Look, I see the zip code 92084 on Thomas Ripley’s bio. That’s clearly Vista, CA. You can’t fool me!

— Why does Martin look so sinister here?

— In one of Marie’s flashbacks, I love the way her suitor hands her flowers, then runs away in a hurry. HEREYOUMA’AMOKAYTHANKSBYE

— They should’ve just named her Maria, so I can pretend I’m watching one of my dramatic soaps.

— I half-expected Sword to rev the hell out of his bike and zoom off after Zaruba uttered this line. Sometimes I wish Garo would just embrace the camp.

— The girl should finish the entire basket of bread?

— I shouldn’t laugh. Domestic abuse isn’t funny. But c’mon, a father cold-clocking his sister out of nowhere is kinda funny.

— Wait, the barricade to the basement is on the inside?

— This looks like it should’ve seriously injured Sophie.

Fruits de Mer has fancy new loot boxes for its players, and Moriko can’t wait to get her hands on the cute-looking gear. It’s all a gamble, though. In some games, you can open a hundred loot boxes and still won’t find what you’re looking for. I think China is forcing developers to disclose the odds for this very reason? Basically, expect to set yourself back financially if you want to e-brag about your hot new MMO gear. Lilac casually mentions that she burned 10000 yen to get the fairy tunic and butterfly effect. 88 dollars, my dudes. 88 dollars just to look pretty. And the best part is, she ends up not wearing any of it in the end. All because Kanbe prefers her regular look. Damn, online relationships have got these characters in a tizzy. I guess those two are destined to couple up at some point, but we still don’t know who any of them really are. We finally see the person behind Lilac, and it’s actually another female character, but other than that, we know little else.

88 bucks, though. Even Moriko admits that playing the loot box game will put a dent in her savings. Obviously, she’s living off her savings. Just how much she has left is the big question. Well, I’m apparently the only person who cares about it. But moving along, Moriko reasons that life has been pretty good to her lately, so it wouldn’t hurt to “[splurge] here and there.” No, girl, that’s a trap! That sort of logic is a quick way for life to suddenly look down. We do this all the time, though. We’re such silly creatures. “Oh, I jogged for twenty minutes today. I can indulge a bit on some candy.” “Oh, I studied for a bit today. I can play some video games.” “Oh, I had a good day at work. Let’s go to the bar and spend tons of money on shots.” Then before you know it, you’re in a tight spot again. Fortunately for Moriko, Recovery of an MMO Addict is a very cheerful, happy-go-lucky anime, so I’m sure she’ll be fine.

Thankfully, I quit playing online games right before loot boxes became a requirement for every single game. Oh, I still log into League of Legends once in a while to zone out on ARAM matches, but I no longer really care about champion skins. But don’t get me wrong. Unlike the vast majority of gamers out there, loot boxes honestly don’t bother me. I get it, I get it. When loot boxes give certain players a distinct advantage, that sucks. Here’s what I suggest: stop playing that game. When extras that you expect to be included in the base game are shoved into a loot box instead, that sucks too. Here’s what I suggest: stop playing that game. When you need to open a bajillion loot boxes to get the skin or voice line you want, that… well, I don’t give a shit about that. Just get over it? MMOs used to have a bigger problem than loot boxes, anyway. In Final Fantasy XI, functional equipment cost so goddamn much that people resorted to buying gil from Chinese gold farmers. This ended up created a feedback loop: buying gil led to inflation of the economy which meant you had to buy even more gil to keep up.

Why do I know so much about this? Ahem, it’s not like I ever bought gil or anything…. Developers eventually caught on, though. Hey, why are we letting players pay other people to better enjoy our service? Why don’t we just sell stuff directly to players? Not every game lets you buy in-game currency from its e-shop, but you can find most everything else. Pretty dresses, sex-changing potions, fancy haircuts, so on and so forth. It all costs way too much. Even in competitive games like LoL, I can’t wrap my mind around the practice anymore. “I have to pay how much for particle effects? Sheesh.” But LoL wouldn’t be where it is today without those skins. It’s not like the LCS, a.k.a. Riot’s shoddy attempt at e-sports, is a money-maker. Games need these online transactions in order to subsidize the rest of the ecosystem. And this is even true for games like Fruits de Mer. Let’s face it. It’s not much of an MMO.

Developing a fresh and ambitious MMO is insanely difficult. It’s also prohibitively expensive. In addition, you have to factor in the cost of simply maintaining the service. That’s why big budget MMOs have pretty much gone by the wayside. You never hear about the next World of Warcraft killer anymore. People have given up on that front. So instead, every year, we get a bunch of half-assed MMOs. A few of them will catch fire for whatever odd reason and carve out a niche for themselves. But by and large, these games have little going for them. At this point, Fruits de Mer looks like nothing but a glorified chat client. We sometimes see these characters go on quests, but very little of the gameplay is even important or remarkable enough to be shown. And as I’ve said in previous weeks, I’m fine with that. I prefer the anime to focus on the characters anyway. But in order for a game like Fruits de Mer to make any sort of profit, it needs whales like Lily.

Yep, whales. You’ve probably heard of the term. It’s used everywhere to describe a certain subset of online consumers. Even my company’s product managers use it. I still remember the exact wording too: “We keep track of our whales. We also keep track of mini-whales, people who have whale-like tendencies. We’re trying to determine what we can leverage in order to convert our mini-whales into full-fledged whales.” Yeah, it’s obnoxious, but hey, what product managers aren’t? The vast majority of online consumers do not spend a whole lot of money. In fact, they’re pretty scrupulous. It’s the whales who spend a disproportionate amount of money, so it’s the whales who really help keep the ship afloat. Lily would’ve just kept buying loot boxes until she found what she wanted. For generic Asian MMOs like Fruits de Mer, players like Lily are a godsend. And the PMs might want to take a closer look at players like Moriko. She’s logged in everyday. Sometimes, she’s logged in overnight. Sounds like a mini-whale to me.

Moriko might be a NEET, and we can reason all we want that NEETs are looked down upon by the general public, but the anime certainly doesn’t treat her that way. In fact, our girl is becoming a bit of a Mary Sue. All the guys want her. Yuta’s already obsessed, and he’s only met her twice. For a young man who appears to have a steady job and his own place, it’s weird to me that he’s so worked up about some homey-looking woman. But maybe she’s not as homey as she looks. Moriko now catches Homare’s eyes. Well, more like her breasts (clearly, he’s not a man of culture). I don’t think Homare is a legitimate rival for Yuta or anything, but still, our 30-year-old shut-in continues to exceed expectations. Speaking of rivals, Yuta should worry less about his friend, and more about this convenience store kid who also has a crush on our heroine. And what a coincidence! He also plays Fruits de Mer! On the one hand, she’s not going to go for someone who works at a goddamn combini. But on the other hand, he’s about to graduate and get a full time job, but so time’s running out for Yuta.

Moriko is such a pushover, though. I bet she was also a pushover at her company, so she ended up working too many hours and burning herself out. In this week’s episode, she gets roped into meeting Homare for drinks. Just say no. “No” is a complete sentence. But in these cultures, they don’t want to be rude. Also, they used to be colleagues somewhat, and Moriko even admits he has helped her out in the past. Still, if you don’t want to do something, say so. And likewise, if you do want something, say so. Homare can at least be assertive, and as a result, he gets the girl to agree to his plans, a fact which he quickly uses to tease his best friend. On the other hand, Yuta’s problem isn’t that he’s too nice. His problem is that he’s being a pathetic sad sack with no confidence. He’s all “Uguu, I need a good reason to talk to her again.” Dude, you like her. That’s a good enough reason. Just ask her out like an adult. Ask her out with confidence.

Instead, Yuta does all the things we’ve come to expect from sad sacks. He’ll check his phone a billion times everyday, hoping to get a message from Moriko when he could, y’know… just message her himself. He buys his dinner from the combini more often than usual, because he hopes to have yet another fateful encounter when he could, y’know… just create his own encounter by asking her out. But hey, we’ve all been there… when we were kids. It’s kinda sad to see this from a grown adult, man or woman. Luckily for him, he seems to have stumbled onto the truth. Out of guilt, Moriko confides in Lily about her real life problems. How could she turn down Yuta just to accept Homare’s invitation? In fact, how could she accept this invitation when she’s got an MMO partner! This feels like the first time Moriko has ever opened up to Lily about her personal life to such a degree, and it’s weird to me how private these characters are with each other. I can’t speak for everyone, but MMOs were special in that you could log in and shoot the shit for hours with friends. Nobody talked about the game all day. Instead, we talked about our lives: work, college, love, family, etc. I would never get this close to a “Lily” and not know anything about them.

Anyway, even though Moriko tries to flip the genders around, it isn’t enough. There are too many coincidences for Lily to ignore. And through the least surprising reveal ever, we finally see for ourselves that Lily is controlled by none other than Yuta. The girl he’s been wanting to talk to all this time is actually the guy whom he’s actually been talking to all this time. What is he going to do now? But before we even get to that, I really have to wonder what Hayashi even means to Yuta. Isn’t there a genuine connection between the two of them? We know he’s obsessed with Moriko in real life. Since that’s going nowhere, he comes home and logs into Fruits de Mer to spend every online moment with Hayashi. What if Hayashi had not been Moriko? What, then, did he intend for Hayashi? Would he have ditched the guy altogether if things suddenly worked out between him and Moriko? I wouldn’t be able to do that. I know lots of players have online relationships just for fun or whatever, but I guess I’m the sort of person who takes these things too seriously. I’d never marry someone in an MMO for the hell of it. I guess I could be wrong, but it feels like he never took Hayashi too seriously.

I should like this episode, since it’s full of cats. Even anime cats are still cute. It’s when they become catgirls that everything goes wrong. We’ve taken a beautiful animal and perverted it beyond belief. This is the crime that anime must atone for. Anyway, maybe I shouldn’t like this episode after all. It doesn’t have catgirls, but it will lead to an episode in which they suffer. In other words, there’s actually a conflict to deal with! Not only that, the plot doesn’t resolve itself within a single episode. You don’t know how much I welcome this over the slow and sleep-inducing narrative in the three previous episodes. This week, the King of Cats — who’s apparently a majestic female feline by the name of Molly — enlists Elias’s aid.

Before we get to the issue at hand, you should know that cats literally have nine lives. And over the course of those nine lives, they can apparently learn to speak the human tongue. They sound exactly like us! I’m hoping my Nabi learns to speak soon so I can tell her how annoying she is at 3 am. Anyway, Molly tells Chise that in the past there was once an evil man who hunted cats. He killed them indiscriminately, hanging their swinging corpses from hooks. One day, the cats had had enough, and the first King of Cats led an all-out attack to fell the catsbane once and for all. Unfortunately, his corrupted soul would not die, and it has lingered ever since on some tiny island in the middle of a lake.

Recently, however, the corrupted soul threatens to escape from its prison, and Molly has decided that the tainted mass of the catsbane must be purged once and for all. The corrupted soul wouldn’t just hurt cats again. It is also a danger to humans. The current King of Cats has grown terribly fond of its human; she sees the child as one of her own, and what mother wouldn’t protect her babies? Chise’s honeymoon thus continues to be one long therapy session. She not only travels with Elias to see the world and open her eyes to magic, but she is slowly but surely confronting her past. Not all parents are bad. Not all mothers abandon their children. Even a cat can have so much love to give to a child. This is the second episode in a row in which Chise encounters a positive parental role model.

I’m not sure what Elias is doing, but yet again, someone grabs the girl, flies off into the sky with her, then dumps her into a body of water. It turns out a sorcerer and his assistant(?) intends to use the corrupted soul for their own gain. Why did his assistant drop Chise into the lake, though? If they wanted to kill Chise there and then, they could’ve done so. Instead, allowing Chise to come into contact with not only the corrupted soul but the ghost of his wife seems to have seeded doubt in our heroine’s mind. The wife wants nothing more than for Chise to kill them both for good, but Chise hesitates. Is this what the sorcerer is hoping for?

The girl doesn’t know the full story, so she can’t help but wonder why the wife would desire such a hard and final end to her and her husband’s existence. That’s where next week’s episode will come in, and I don’t look forward to seeing those poor, tortured cats. Chise also worries, however, that Elias will lose faith in her if she fails to cleanse the corrupted soul. In actuality, Chise’s soul also needs healing. Our loved ones would never lose faith in us over a single mistake. Hell, they wouldn’t stop loving us after multiple mistakes either. But she wouldn’t know that, would she? Thanks to Chise’s tumultuous past, she has no concept of unconditional love. Naturally, she thinks any failure on her part will spell doom for her relationship with Elias.

I’m starting to think this anime would’ve been better served with Elias as a nurturing father figure than some awkward husband-to-be. This is an inkling I’ve had since the start of the series, but I feel it now more than ever. His unconditional love for her would make far more sense coming from a parent-child dynamic than… whatever we have right now. It would also make more sense for a parental figure to also double as the child’s mentor. Students have certainly fallen for their teachers, but within the context of this anime, i.e. Elias buying Chise from a literal slave auction, I’d much prefer it if she didn’t start seeing him as a love interest. I don’t even discern a single thing about their relationship that appears remotely romantic, so why even bother squeezing in a love subplot when it doesn’t need one? Are we just that love-starved that we’ll take any relationship we can get?

But enough about that. Chise’s attempt to cleanse the corrupted soul is rudely interrupted by Renfred, the sorcerer I had previously mentioned. He also reveals to her that, as a Sleigh Beggy, she will die soon. He quickly accuses Elias of not actually caring for Chise. He reasons that Chise’s nothing more than an experiment to the mage — a curious creature with remarkable powers. The episode comes to an end here, but for a girl with practically no self-esteem, I’m sure she’ll be rocked by these revelations. Still, this week’s episode is markedly better than the first three. It’s still not an anime I would ever watch if not for Moe Sucks, but at least we finally have an actual conflict to follow.

Some snarky notes and observations:

Just a short list this time.

— These are some derpy-looking cats.

— “You struck me as odd, choosing to pair bond with this cranky old man.” That’s where you’re wrong, cat. There was never a choice!

— “I hate kids,” Elias says. So why are you marrying one? I kid, I kid.

Strap yourself in, because this episode is filled to the brim with exposition. Some people seem to have this weird misconception that I think all exposition should be condemned and excised from the story. That couldn’t be farther from the truth. Of course exposition is necessary every now and again. I just also happen to think that, as an anime, Houseki no Kuni has an obligation to at least engage the audience through its visuals. There is little to no action, which again isn’t necessarily a problem. Unfortunately, there is also little to no visual storytelling. For the vast majority of the episode, characters merely stand or walk around as they feed us information. Houseki no Kuni’s universe is intriguing in its conception, and I’m very much interested to learn what’s it all about. I can’t deny, however, that the execution leaves much to be desired. But fine, what are the crucial new bits of information for us to pore over?

The now shell-less snail-like creature identifies itself as Ventricosus, the king of the Admirabilis. The Admirabilis once lived in the sea until the Lunarians came for their beautiful shells. Since then, Ventricosus’s people have been imprisoned and rendered stupid by the abundance of the “sweet waters and sands of the moon.” Only by slimming down on the surface does our new snail friend recover her mental faculties. Still, there are more pressing matters for Phos to worry about. They learn that Cinnabar once again played a part in saving them. And yet, Phos still has no idea how to help our mercurial friend out. Ventricosus suggests that the answer would not exist on land. As such, they should head into the sea where Phos will find an individual who very much resembles the gemstones. If the snail can be trusted, they’ll also be killing two birds with one stone, since Ventricosus is so desperately homesick.

Phos is far too trusting. Why would you so naively believe anything that Ventricosus tells you? After all, the Lunarians dropped the snail right on the gemstones’ doorstep and left without stirring up more trouble. Wouldn’t you thus be suspicious of Ventricosus’s intentions? Then again, the gemstone is desperate. They’re racing against the clock to prevent Cinnabar’s disappearance. So off to the seas they go. Ventricosus isn’t really lying; rather, she speaks in half-truths. In the sea, the snail reverts to its truer form, which appears to be a pink, jellyfish-like humanoid. So as you can plainly see, Phos did encounter an individual who very much resembles the gemstones. And although the answer they seek may not lie within the ocean, it can perhaps be found on the moon. When Phos lies down on the ocean floor out of exhaustion, a rain of arrows falls from the sky. Ventricosus has lured Phos here in exchange for her brother. What is to become of Phos now?

For now, however, there are more interesting topics to explore than Phos’ current predicament. “…death gives meaning to life itself,” says Ventricosus. That sounds like a passive aggressive dig against the gemstones. The snail seems to suggest that Phos and the others have vacuous lives. The majority of them have purposes, sure, but to what end? Take, for example, Red Beryl’s obsession over fashion. They speak as though “[slimming] down the collar by 1/100th of the usual” is a meaningful change. Then what? If we were to live such a life, could we look back on it with any sort of pride? But who am I to judge? I sit in an office for forty hours every week, tweaking an app to increase user retention by 1 or 2 measly percent. That doesn’t sound very different from Red Beryl’s minuscule optimizations.

Even worse, Kongo confesses to Phos that he has not yet found a purpose for Cinnabar. In fact, the gemstone had to give themselves a purpose; it was Cinnabar’s idea to become the night watch. We can see, however, that the gemstone suffers alone every single night. Their mental health slowly deteriorates as Kongo continues to slumber in so-called meditation. As empty as the gemstones’ lives might be, a true purpose is at least a step-up from Cinnabar’s truly aimless existence. But if the gemstones’ lives are devoid of meaning, then the Lunarians appear to have it even worse. The moon invaders seem to live for nothing but their base desires.

After the sixth comet, humans left for the sea and became soul, flesh and bone. To put it more accurately, humans evolved into three different species. The Admirabilis are the most likely candidate to have descended from the flesh. On the other hand, the gemstones’ seemingly immortal status might suggest that they represent the bone (yes, I know bone is technically living tissue that can die). That leaves only the Lunarians and the soul. If these ancient tales are speaking the truth, why have our souls become so greedy and vain? Why do our souls lust for battle? Perhaps this is what it means to be a human soul in its most distilled form. We may not see ourselves as selfish and warlike, but perhaps our flesh and bone have long served as limiters. After all, there’s only so much we can accomplish as corporeal beings. Our bodies keeps our spirit in check. But if our soul can somehow exist on its own, it would have no such physical restraints.

Nevertheless, Ventricosus goes on to say that the soul “[seeks] out the flesh and bones to bring about a revival.” We have yet to see the Lunarians communicate to any discernible degree. For now, the Lunarians only appear superficially human, and this gives me pause. Humans have long associated thought and reason with the soul, but perhaps this is mistaken. Maybe the soul is more akin to a force of nature, a bundle of competing desires that seeks nothing but its own satiation. It does not actually exhibit humanity without the flesh and bone to bind it. What happens to a desire when it is fulfilled? Does it die or does it continues to desire? That’s practically tautological, isn’t it? Desires desire. Otherwise, they would cease to be. Maybe the soul wants to bring about a revival because it lives an empty existence full of unfulfilled desires. Perhaps like ghosts, they are forever restless and envious of the living.

Stray thoughts and observations:

— Hm, what is going on with Kongo’s dreams?

— The gemstones are beginning to worry, because the Lunarians are appearing more frequently than ever. For the last 2,173 years, the moon invaders would only appear every three sunny days like clockwork. Something, however, has changed their nature. This also triggers a small change in some of the gemstones, too. Euclase reveals that they’re actually a bit scared.

— They say heat doesn’t affect gemstones. I looked it up just to be sure. Heat apparently can affect the color of gemstones, but I suppose it never gets hot enough in the universe of Houseki no Kuni for these characters to worry.

— Not only are the gemstones are genderless, they don’t appear to engage in any sort of sexual activity. So why are they ashamed of their naked appearance?

— Phos says that without their resin finish, they would look hideous. But why? Maybe it has something to do with their humanity. They are stones blessed the ability to think and reason. To give off any appearance to the contrary is perhaps an aberration.

— Why do snails need breasts? Well, it’s anime, so why do I even bother asking?

— Phos says that they are taught to treat every item with care. Bort seems to have little regard for living things, though. Maybe that’s just a Bort thing.

— What does it mean for the “bones” to strike a deal with other lifeforms and thereby gain longer lifespans? Speaking of longer lifespans, does this mean the gemstones can and will eventually die? Ventricosus insists, however, that these are just vague stories. You wouldn’t draw hard conclusions from vagaries, would you?

So what does the Council of Elders choose to do in the face of murderous clowns? Give up and die. How pathetic is that? Children of the Whales has always been a bit heavy-handed in its storytelling, and the latest episode merely continues the same trend. A bunch of old fogeys decide for everyone that their community has absolutely no means to resist their enemies. They also decide that sinking the mud whale will allow everyone to die with dignity. I’m not even sure what that means. Apparently drowning to death in the sand sea is dignified whereas a swift death via a blade is not. Still, the heavy-handedness doesn’t really bother me too much. Rather, I’m frustrated by the story’s insistence on drip-feeding important information. It’s not a crime to withhold key plot points from the audience, but at least due it in a natural and organic way. Alright, alright, why are we being hunted by these emotionless jerks? Our ancestors were exiled for committing a grave sin. They have now decided to execute us for said grave sin. Okay, what was the grave si–… no, no, no, it’s time to move on! We shan’t answer anymore questions for the rest of the episode!

For defying the Council of Elders, Suou gets knocked out and locked away within the bowels of the ship. The fogeys then turn to Neri to commence with the rest of their Jonestown homage. Not-Neri seems to be a conduit for some sort of spirit, though. She later appears before Chakuro and sends the hero on an acid trip. First, he is seemingly able to see and communicate with the dead. As soon as Sami’s ghost sees him, she plants a big one on his lips. Welp, the only time you get to kiss the girl in anime is if she dies. He despairingly wishes to follow her into the afterlife, but she tells him he still has a duty to fulfill. She is then replaced by Lady Taisha, who urges Chakuro to continue his role as an archivist lest the people of Falaina are forgotten by history. Afterwards, Chakuro sees the bad ends for Ouni, Suou and Lykos in that order. I suppose Ouni loses himself to bloodshed, Suou continues being a caged bird, and last but not least, Lykos is brainwashed back into being a child soldier. What does all of this means? Not-Neri explains that Chakuro is special — of course he is — and as a result, he has the ability to see into people’s hearts. He must therefore unite everyone or they’ll assuredly perish. Ah well, typical chosen one plot-line. Still, I can’t help but wonder if Chakuro actually saw Sami’s spirit, or if he is merely being manipulated by Not-Neri.

Well, it’s time to get the gang together in order to break Suou out of prison. From this point, the show seems to swing wildly from serious to not-so-serious, and I’m not sure these tonal shifts are to my taste. Of course, scenes with Lykos and Ouni are angsty. I expect that. But then we have a scene where Ginsha suddenly turns on her SDF buddies just because Chakuro is cute and calls her oneesama. Apparently, she had heard from others that only two people out of the entire island were able to stand up to the enemy clowns. Chakuro happens to be one of them, and she’s suddenly taken an interest in him. She is particularly interested in his cuteness, and whines when he slips out of her site. I’m just like… wha…? This is random? Did she even take much notice of him at all in previous episodes? I’m not going to bother rewatching those episodes, so I’m just gonna leave it at that. I just find the whole thing really silly and not in line with the rest of the tragic story whatsoever. Y’know, the same story where children get murdered left and right? A similarly goofy moment occurs a bit later. Everyone decides to split up: one group will explore the bowels of the ship and discover what Falaina really is, and the other group will locate and free Suou from his cell. How is the latter group going to manage that? Why, with this comical invention! Sorry, but these moments just take me out of the show.

Let’s wrap this post up. The bowels of the ship looks certainly more high-tech than the muddy exterior would have you believe. I find it kind of curious that none of these secrets have ever been leaked. If experience has taught me anything, people are blabbermouths. Chakuro asks Lykos if she knows what they’re looking for. She reveals that the ship has its own Eldritch-like creature. If you’ve forgotten, Chakuro and Ouni had touched some pulsating, emotion-eating lifeform back in episode two, and it allowed Chakuro to see glimpses of Lykos’s past. But back to the present, what should the kids find at the end of their mini-adventure? Some giant creature in a rocking chair. It looks kind of like a coral-crusted mindflayer to me, but hey, we’ll find out soon. I hope. Neri is also there. Mysterious beings always communicate through waifs. Kick-ass rocking chair, though. I wonder how they managed to build that. Children of the Whales continues to be gorgeous, but as we slowly peel the layers back on the story, I’m finding myself less and less excited to see more. I’m not connecting with the characters, and I feel like these kids get over a bloody massacre way too quickly. At the very least, I don’t think the hijinks are really doing the show any favors on that front.

But before we get to the big bad baddie, let’s wrap up the Moon Festival. Rindo drops by to tease Kuga for his third day defeat, but she has a point: he lost because he’s so cooped up in his pop-up restaurant. I even pointed this out last week. Kuga’s biggest mistake was turning down a taste of Yukihira’s food. What self-respecting chef doesn’t want to try new food? What self-respecting competitor doesn’t want to see what his rivals are up to? Kuga gives in, and is ready to accept a shokugeki, but Yukihira insists that they ride the rest of the festival out. There’s still one day left, so he hasn’t necessarily won. I’d quit while I’m ahead. After all, he dug himself a huge hole in the first two days, so in terms of total sales across the whole event, he’s still in second place. Why risk it? Then again, I’m not a shounen hero with plot armor, so what do I know? Something, something, dignity, I’m sure.

Then whole thing ends anticlimactically. Without any fanfare, Kuga comes out ahead in total sales. What a letdown. I didn’t get to see if Kuga would do anything on the last day to counter Yukihira’s curry mapo tofu thingamajig. I didn’t get to see if Yukihira himself had one more trick up his sleeve. I know this arc has gone on long enough, but I’d rather have a good ending than a good set-up. They could’ve sacrificed some of the earlier episodes to flesh out the final day. We’re also shown a montage of how the other stalls finished, but I don’t care about them. I have no emotional investment whatsoever in the other characters, and unless you’re showing me something neat about cooking or running a restaurant, their numbers are completely irrelevant to me. I only like the chocolate and curry concoction because it does honestly sound kinda cool.

What follows is a mini-backstory about how Terunori wanted to soundly beat everyone in order to re-challenge Eishi. Welp, so much for that. Back in the present day, Rindo takes Yukihira and Megumi to try Eishi’s food. The top ranking member of the Elite Ten has his restaurant in the Yamanote Area, which looks bourgeois as fuck. Every single diner tries to come across as European elite as possible, which is ridiculous. You know the drill: fancy gowns for every lady and 3-piece suits for every gentleman. I’m surprised I didn’t see a tux. This is not what the average 3-Michelin star clientele looks like. This is just anime once again glorifying some really outdated idea of upper-class French culture. The truth is, most 3-star chefs are a bit of a contradiction. They put together meals that will cost you hundreds of dollars per head, but at the same time, they insist on making little to no fuss about it. Oh, diners should just come as they are. So you can dress relatively casually. For men, a long-sleeved shirt with buttons and a sports jacket is honestly as formal as it’s going to get. No restaurant would ever ask you to wear a suit. I’ve also been to 3-star restaurants where the dress code is straight up casual. You could show up in a t-shirt if you wanted, especially when the chef is blaring 80s music in the background. It’s all about perception. These chefs want to feel as though their food is accessible. They want to feel as though they’re cooking for the people. Of course, this is anything but the case. The bottom line will always be the bill at the end of the dinner, and if you’re charging a table more than 100 or 150 bucks (this will vary depending on the size of the party), you’re never cooking for “the people.” But hey, whatever gets these super chefs through the day. Don’t get me wrong. I love fine-dining. I just find this attitude bizarre at best and hypocritical at worst.

On the way to Eishi’s restaurant, we hear about Eizan successfully managing twenty booths. A few chefs end up building an empire, and thus no longer really spend their day-to-day within a kitchen anymore. Gordon Ramsay, for instance, has 19 current restaurants scattered all across the world. He also does those trashy reality TV competitions like Hell’s Kitchen and Masterchef. Well, I’m not sure if Hell’s Kitchen is still a thing anymore. Anyways, you build an empire to make money, but you also get to the point where you need to expand just to keep talent within your fold. Say a talented cook comes up through your flagship restaurant. You see a ton of potential in them; they deserve a head chef position. But your flagship is already being helmed by your right-hand man. What are you to do? Just open up another restaurant. Over the course of decades, you’re going to end up having a lot of talented people who need to get paid. It’s easier to help them find opportunities elsewhere, but if you’ve got a giant ego like Ramsay, you’ll just keep opening restaurants. When’s the last time Ramsay has ever spent an entire night on the line, I wonder?

At Eishi’s restaurant, he is shown chopping asparagus in an empty kitchen. This is silly especially compared to Terunori’s giant Chinese operation full of Shaolin monk-wannabes. If you’re pumping out 9-course meals, you need to command a strong staff, i.e. sous chefs, line cooks, garde manger, patissier, etc. The fact that Eishi is even cooking at all instead of running the pass is also out of touch with how a high-end restaurant really works. No single person can put together a real 9-course meal by themselves. In anime world, sure, but in the real world, no chance. I don’t care if you’re only cooking for three tables at a time. Even if you could pull this off, why would you want to? Having more people means you can ensure a higher quality meal. Plus, who did the prep work? Don’t tell me he spent all day doing that too. As the head chef, you are the conductor. You make sure every ingredient comes to the pass on time, and nothing leaves the kitchen without your approval. Rindo reveals that Eishi is afraid to let others manage his food. Lots of people can cook. Not everyone, however, can be a leader.

As a side note, the decor of Eishi’s restaurant is ghastly. Everything is shrouded in dark colors. You have these weird crystals dangling from the ceiling. It doesn’t feel inviting whatsoever. It’s like eating in an RPG dungeon.

Yukihira and company are immediately blown away as soon as they taste Eishi’s cooking. Yadda yadda yadda, the dishes are transcendent, and everyone loses their clothes. Yukihira marvels over the progression of the courses, and admits that Eishi is out of his league. I don’t know about the second part, but the first part is true. Designing a 9-course meal is a completely different beast. Now throw in some wine pairings.

The chef comes to greet the table, and proceeds to freak out about the temperature of the room, whether or not the seats are comfortable, and if the lighting is too dim (hint: it is). That’s a turn-off. This guy is just a talented cook. He’s definitely not a chef. Rindo also docks his food for its lack of passion. Eishi counters that his entire goal is to erase his presence from his dishes. That’s just odd. It’s even more odd that he doesn’t ask about the food. Sure, that’s confidence. But it’s also stupid. If you get the chance, you always ask the diners how their meal was. It doesn’t show weakness to ask them how the food was. It shows the willingness to accept criticism and grow.

Over in Erina’s restaurant, she’s still waiting for Yukihira’s dad to show up. So that crush is still a thing after three seasons, huh? Gross. But instead, an anime supervillain shows up. Oh wait, it’s just her father. He’s so bad he was exiled from Totsuki… whatever that means. His own existence has even been erased from the family. That’s a bit dramatic. Her father then proceeds to insult her diners, and she just stands there frozen in fear. Way to go, chef. Way to protect your customers. The guy then goes on some elitist spiel. Whatever. I’m not even going to bother parsing any of it. It’s just hyperbolic anime villain nonsense but with a culinary twist. I don’t know any 3-star Michelin chef who wouldn’t enjoy a good burger. Ferran Adria draws his inspiration from street food. Nobody gives a shit about “true taste.”

Luckily, Yukihira shows up just in time, and his obliviousness manages to cut through the tension. He even has another black pepper bun for Erina. Somehow, his presence alone causes Erina’s father to lose his appetite, so the jerk leaves. He steps outside to greet a fleet of cars surrounding the restaurant. Oh my. But we’re not done yet! With the help of a simple majority of the Elite Ten, Azami announces that he’s taking over the school. What an anime supervillain!

I expect nothing and I’m still disappointed. I thought we’d finally get to see some action after episodes and episodes of exposition and backstories. But all you’re going to get this week is Monkey karate-chopping some zombie birds. Seriously.

The cold opening reveals the tournament’s true purpose: a proxy war wherein the results will redraw the world’s borders. Once the number of inhabitants have been whittled down, representatives from the world’s strongest countries will start placing their bets. How you go about redrawing boundaries so freely and easily, I dunno. But then again, we have a warrior who can resurrect the dead as zombies to do his bidding, so I’m not really going to give the tournament’s premise a second thought.

Back in the tournament, Rat splits off to deal with Snake’s headless corpse. Meanwhile, Monkey tries to team up with Rabbit once more, but the latter merely distracts her long enough for the flock of undead birds to escape from the sewers. And that’s pretty much the extent of their encounter, because the episode would rather have us listen to Sheep prattle on and on and on about how he’ll use trickery to form his own team.

Sheep’s backstory is probably the worst yet. It’s so boring, it doesn’t even take up the full length of the episode. It’s so uninteresting, there’s really nothing to comment on. He was a weapons dealer, then he settled down with a family. He reentered the tournament so his grandson wouldn’t have to. That’s pretty much it. In the present day, he acknowledges that the top three fighters are Ox, Rabbit and Monkey. Monkey? Really? Oh well. Sheep is too old to take those three head-on, so he’ll have to convince the mid-tier guys to join up with him. He’s also got what he believes to be a trump card: he never swallowed the poisoned gem, and he thinks other warriors are dumb enough to believe he can use quantum tunneling to extract the gems from their bodies. Unfortunately, he doesn’t know that Dog and Boar are already dead.

We see Horse and Ox walking around. Nothing interesting going on with them either. Eventually, Ox stumbles upon Sheep’s hideout, so the old man detonates a bomb and makes his escape. Oh yeah, he apparently has another ace up his sleeve: an even bigger bomb! During his getaway, he bumps into Tiger, who looks harmless. After all, she’s busy getting drunk off her ass on a park bench. But she senses Sheep’s presence anyway, and the episode ends there. You can bet your ass she’s not as harmless as the old man thinks.

Oh my god, pretty much nothing happened. Best of all? Next week’s episode will dive into Horse’s backstory. Gosh, I can’t wait.

Kekkai Sensen & Beyond Ep. 4

I really miss White. In a vacuum, she wasn’t much of a character; she was also an anime-only addition. But even so, she was the plot thread that kept the first season from falling apart. As it stands, Kekkai Sensen & Beyond has nothing to offer but side stories. Maybe the “& Beyond” part of the title says more about the show than I had originally assumed.

This week’s episode focuses on Chain and her role as an Invisible Werewolf. She and her team can dilute their existence to almost nothing, thereby allowing themselves to slip past conventional defenses. You need a token to keep yourself anchored in reality, because it’s possible to dilute yourself too far. A token is personal; it’s something that carries a lot of emotional weight so it keeps these girls from erasing their existence entirely.

Velved, a former teammate of the Invisible Werewolves, are out for revenge, and she’s made a deal with the King of Hypersensitivity (man, just typing this stuff out makes it sound so dumb). I’d make a joke about him being easily offended, but that’s a low-hanging fruit. Normally, the Invisible Werewolves are practically incorporeal, but if your senses are, uh, hyper, then you can interact with them anyway. Velved’s her new abilities thus gives her the upper hand against four of the five Invisible Werewolves. Well, all Chain has to do is make herself even more diluted! Mission. Accomplished.

In the epilogue, everyone sends the oblivious Steven Starphase to Chain’s apartment. Is he her token? When he opens the door, however, the girl is in the process of cleaning up her pigsty of a home. Anime girls are prone to violence when they’re embarrassed, so you can pretty much guess what happens next. Steven’s still as clueless as ever, but it doesn’t look like Chain really minds as we find her blushing in the after credits scene. What an uninspired, throwaway episode. I like Chain’s character, but it feels like nothing important has or will happen this season.

Evil or Li–… unfortunately, I didn’t get around to watching this week’s episode in time. I’m not too worked up about it, though. I also have a feeling you guys aren’t too worked up about it either. I might catch back up next week, I might not. We’ll see.

The girls finally get to board the ship in Fremantle, but it doesn’t get to leave the dock just yet. As everyone gets settled into their cramped living quarters, Yuzuki can’t help but feel as though the adults are hiding something. After all, there’s a stark lack of people on the boat; the girls thought the expedition team would be a lot bigger. Outsiders also can’t help but express their pessimism as they whisper about the potential of the trip ending in complete failure. Initially, I was afraid that Yuzuki would definitely stumbleupon a big issue, but there really isn’t one. The episode played with my expectations. Yeah, the expedition is understaffed, but that’s to be expected. After all, they’re not just a bunch of civilians embarking on a journey to the most unforgiving place on Earth. They also managed to lose their leader three years ago. That’s a huge black-eye for any organization, and it’s not surprising that the world’s confidence in them continues to be at an all-time low. Sponsors have withdrawn their financial support, and likewise, for some unlucky members of the team, loved ones have withdrawn their emotional support.

And yet, the group will never give up because they’re all a bunch of mini-Shirases. Who would ever believe that a high school girl could make it to Antarctica one day? I still don’t believe it myself. Over time, I’ve grown to like this show, but I still think the premise is unrealistic. But setting that aside — and honestly, realism isn’t that important — I can’t help but be charmed by the show’s message about the strength of the human spirit and fulfilling our greatest dreams in spite of all the naysayers in our lives. One by one, the girls introduce themselves to the group. They each have their own reasons to be on this trip. Mari wants to stop talking about change and actually have one. Yuzuki wants to feel like part of a family. Hinata wants to do something big before her entrance exams. And last but not least, Shirase wants to finish what her mother started. It’s not that simple for the girl, of course. A small part of her clings onto the hope that her mother is still out there somewhere on that frigid continent, and this is not something she can confess to a room full of strangers. And yet, that determination is shared by everyone in the room.

Like mother, like daughter; Takako was also full of dreams and ambition, and she led her team all the way to Antarctica three years ago. That’s outrageous. That’s also incredibly commendable. And yet, who will remember the original trip in such a positive light? Because of how the original expedition ended, the public seems to have forgotten or will just plain disregard what Takako managed to achieve. Even though the trip ended in disaster, it doesn’t mean the story has to. And that’s why all of the original members made a promise to return to Antarctica one day. They know they won’t find Takako out there, but her dreams and ambition still are. Everyone, including Shirase, can write a new chapter to the story by, again, finishing what Takako started. And ultimately, A Place Further From The Universe is important despite all of its shortcomings because it wants us to believe in the purest form of love. It is a love that can’t be tainted by pessimism or material wealth. These folks won’t be compensated for this trip nor will they get any accolades. Shirase faced ridicule, and the world still doubts these guys. And yet, everyone — from the girls to the original expedition members — continues to push on. At the end of the day, this all sounds a little corny, but eh… who cares?

Misc. notes & observations

— The adults are just as goofy as the children, it seems.

— See, from this shot, it doesn’t look like Shirase really towers above the rest.

— Is it really that embarrassing to jump? I forgot why they even chose Shirase to be the co-star. Either Mari or Hinata would’ve been a much better option.

— Hinata and Yuzuki continue to be the level-headed members of the group. Just look at how Shirase is completely taken by a stuffed penguin. This shot also says everything. Shirase is still my second favorite in the group, though. She’s just so goofy at times like how she whined for miso ramen in last week’s episode.

— On a related note, it’s amazing how quickly they’ve come together as a group. It feels like they’ve been friends forever.

— They probably should’ve had Shirase practice in front of the camera every single week leading up to the trip. I know it’s exaggerated for comedic effect, but look at her.

— H-hey! This is a no bully zone.

— Apparently, her mother used to bunk in the same room that Shirase and her friends are staying in now. But that was what? Years ago? I suspect they’ll end up finding something sentimental from the past anyway. Gotta give Shirase something. It’s not like she’s gonna find her mother alive in Antarctica.

— I’ve never heard of Fremantle until I started watching this anime. And unlike Singapore, we don’t get to see much of the city. I can only imagine that there isn’t much to see.

— Oh no, it seems the girls have practically turned into moe blobs from all the hard work.

— Oh hey, Shirase is back to being much taller than the rest.

— But now she’s not…? I get that she’s standing a little behind the other girls. And in the previous screenshot, she was standing a little in front of them, but that shouldn’t affect the height difference this much. The anime looks great 99% of the time, so this is just hilarious to me.

— Kanae says they’ve taken unprecedented precautions with safety… so… what are they? I’m just curious.

— I like how the show builds upon bits of character development from previous episodes. Last week, we saw Yuzuki’s penchant for sniffing out the truth. This week, she’s the only girl who is visibly annoyed by Kanae’s hopeful but deliberately vague speech about determination. I wonder if it’s because she may have had to deal with shady entertainment biz people, or maybe it’s just a part of her personality.

— How come everyone gets something to cover their hair except Hinata? Is it because her style kinda resembles how a kunoichi might look in pop culture?

— Look at these dorks.

— Very inconspicuous.

— That’s the attitude!

— There’s glow-in-the-dark paint beneath one of the top bunk beds. The girls wonder if it was left by Shirase’s mom. Who knows, but it wouldn’t hurt to believe.

— We still don’t really know what happened to Shirase’s mom. I guess they’re holding onto that bombshell for the final episode or two. Whatever it is, it’s going to be a real tearjerker.

— I know it’s a joke, but it’s also sad that Kanae has to remind everyone that these high school girls are definitely not legal.

— I really like the insert song during their introductions.

**Yes, I know the title is misspelled on Twitter and AnimeNano. I missed the typo until it was too late. Oh well.

Eh, just some quick notes this time…

— The episode opens with Sebas at the Magician’s Guild. There’s a lot of gravitas in this scene despite the fact that he’s only here to buy a magic scroll. And here I thought he was up to something big.

— He later happens upon a bruised and battered woman in a bag. Can’t blame ’em; they didn’t have fridges back then.

— Apparently, some guy just threw her out into the streets. Although he was cold at first, Sebas ultimately decides to take the poor girl under his protection, because his creator once told him that helping people is just common sense. Can’t disagree there. Other NPCs, like Solution, have it harder, though. They weren’t created with the disposition to be compassionate, so caring for others is going to be an uphill battle for them. To be fair, Solution is just slime.

— Apparently, some criminal organization runs this kingdom behind the scenes.

— Why is this guy so concerned about her when he threw her out in a bag in the first place? I mean, I don’t disbelieve him. I trust him when he says that he’ll get killed if he loses the girl. But if she was so goddamn important, maybe try not tossing her outside in a nondescript bag.

— According to Solution, the mysterious woman has a long list of sexual-related injuries and illnesses. You can probably guess what she’s been forced to do.

— I’ll never understand the logic behind these generic evil doers. If you’re going to have a sex slave, why would you treat them so poorly? What’s sexually arousing about a bloody lump of flesh full of venereal diseases? No, I get it. To these fucks, they get their joy out of sadism. It’s also about having power over someone completely helpless. If evil doers were logical, they probably wouldn’t be evil. I’m just saying whatever comes to mind.

— I would call Solution out for wanting to eat the girl, but then again, humans pretty much raped and abused her so everyone’s kinda shitty in general. In general.

— I would hate it, however, if the girl fell in love with Sebas or something. Any story where an abused victim — especially a sexually abused one — falls in love with their savior gives me qualms. Plus, there’s the apparent age difference between the two of them.

— Solution is concerned that housing Tuare will bring trouble to their doorsteps. After all, their mission is to collect information, so they don’t exactly want to alert people to their presence. You could argue that Solution is merely being practical, but then I would counter that general compassion for others will eventually lead to her benefit down the line. Then we’d get into a quagmire of a debate about altruism, utilitarianism, blah blah blah. It’s not worth it for Overlord.

— Solution will probably whine about this to Ainz, and after what happened with Shalltear, they might think Sebas is being disobedient or whatever. But if you’re going to rebel, there are better ways to do it than to take in a sex slave.

— We suddenly cut to Brain and his memories of being owned by Shalltear. He’s having an existential crisis all because of that. I can’t say I cared too much about his character back in season one.

— Then we see some group torching a field of crops that would’ve been turned into drugs by the evil Eight Fingers organization. Y’know, the one that supposedly runs this kingdom. Anyway, these guys feel like fodder. I’m not saying they’ll die, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they did.

— This is followed by a scene featuring the evil assholes themselves, and what they plan to do in the near future. This guy is apparently after Tuare, and I continue to shake my head at the stereotypes that continue to rear their ugly heads in anime.

— Since this is the start of a new arc, there’s a lot of foundation being laid and expository information to dispense. Ho-hum. Well, at this least this is more interesting than a bunch of lizards playing war games.