Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we are returning to the scrumptious Shoushimin Series, just after the full revelation of Osanai’s scheme. This was no idle game of deduction for our heroine; with the threat of Isawa’s revenge to motivate her, she decided to go fully scorched earth, conscripting both Sanae and Jogoro into a scheme that would ultimately see Isawa buried under a variety of semi-invented criminal charges. In the end, the mastermind behind Osanai’s abduction was Osanai herself, who knew she could manipulate things such that Isawa took the fall.
That is some truly dark shit, if you don’t mind me saying. Isawa seemed troubled and possibly even dangerous, but “if you threaten me I will destroy your life” is a pretty hair-trigger response, and Osanai seems not only satisfied with this conclusion, but actively proud of her work. There is a violence in her that goes well beyond Jogoro’s occasionally friction-prompting intelligence; his skill is morally neutral and actually quite valuable, whereas her passion seems to inevitably leave scarred victims in its wake. And morality of her talents aside, how is Jogoro supposed to feel about this? Yes, they often mislead each other for the sake of a shared game, but when that deception puts lives at risk, and even makes Jogoro complicit in her conspiracy, how can he continue to trust that she is fundamentally on his side? Is there anything Osanai truly cares about beyond sweets and getting to bare her fangs? Let’s find out!
Episode 10
Considering everything we’ve been through, the OP cut that now sticks out to me is the second-to-last, when Osanai briefly gives the camera her full wolf-eye attention, then turns away, distracted by something out the window. Is her loyalty any less fickle than her fascination?
In their minds’ eye, we see the new orientation of their relationship – Jogoro cowering and lamenting, Osanai paternally patting his shoulder, assuring him no one will find out about their shared conspiracy. Beyond them, the foot traffic of normalcy continues past, a stream from which they have again diverted
In truth, if they truly wanted to “become normal,” they would probably have to stop spending so much time together. They clearly enable each other in their alleged deviations, though this of course goes a step beyond that – Osanai actually tricked Jogoro into straying far past his own comfort level
It was even Osanai who suggested the decoy voice changer, which of course acquired everyone’s fingerprints. Isawa and the others didn’t even know what sort of game they were playing
I’m reminded of Ender’s Game, whose protagonist learns early that to achieve a permanent victory, you must strike your opponent with such overwhelming force that they cannot possibly retaliate. It made for an unsettling character there, and it’s certainly making Osanai seem pretty ominous here
“They’re probably blaming each other for bringing the thing right now.” Her smiling reflections emphasize how she didn’t just engineer this scheme out of necessity – she relishes thinking about their suffering, how they’re disintegrating as the consequences of this situation become clear
“I’ve made sure that Sanae-san believes she was the one who came up with the plan.” Like with how the Sweets Selection basically incepted all the information Jogoro needed, Osanai similarly manipulated Sanae into believing she was acting of her own volition. And of course, Osanai is merely proud of the complexity and efficacy of her plan, not troubled by its moral implications regarding how she treated even her own allies
Jogoro at last fires back with “you can’t treat crime like snacks, Osanai.” She’s describing a plot to destroy several lives with the same joyful flippancy as she describes a new parfait
The two are then presented in a more equal arrangement in that minds’-eye alley, still seated in their current chairs, as if a portion of their real-world circumstances is bleeding through. Because it is – as Jogoro says, you can’t treat a situation like this purely like a theoretical mental exercise
“We were made accomplices to your lie.” Glad to see Jogoro is challenging this situation so directly – this is no time for games, Osanai did something truly terrible this time
Osanai seems genuinely shocked at Jogoro’s assessment, like she was so wrapped up in her success she wasn’t even really cognizant of what she was doing
“I broke our promise of becoming ordinary spectacularly.”
But she swiftly deflects, saying that Jogoro also broke his promise, and that everyone at school lies as well. The old “but what is truth, really” defense for when you’re clearly, absolutely pinned
She even brings up how everyone thinks they’re in a relationship, something that’s carelessly tossed in here as fodder for her larger argument, but which she’s clearly been thinking about more seriously
“There there’s one thing that’s not a lie – I never wanted to do this. If what I did was a lie, it was a lie to get away from someone who scared me. But you would never have understood that lie. Because all you’re ever capable of is thinking.” Osanai draws a parallel between them – she might be dehumanizing the targets of her plot, but Jogoro does the same thing all the time. Precisely the fear that got him to stop participating in life; that look on others’ faces, when he started treating their precious concerns like puzzles to solve. Through that process, he abstracts human emotions, making him incapable of recognizing the immediate physical threat Isawa represented
“If our desire to become ordinary is also a lie… then what is left of us?” Yep, that’s the fundamental question. Strip away all the lofty rhetoric, and what remains is that fundamental question of “if what inspires me doesn’t fit neatly into society, am I simply a bad person?”
“What’s left is just two arrogant high schoolers.”
Her words conjure Jogoro’s worst fears regarding his own identity; that he’s just some asshole preening on stage, shaming people he sees as no more than mute dolls, acting entirely for his own satisfaction
“To be completely blunt, you’re kind of annoying.” The crowd is moved by this critique of his affectation as easily as they were by his elegant proof. No one cares, Jogoro. You are not a superior being for having this faculty
“There’s no point in us being together any longer.” If they’re not actually helping each other become normal, then what is left of their bond? Given Osanai has been spending this whole arc betraying their alleged pact, I’m sure it’s a question that’s been on her mind, a question she’s been trying to answer – but as with this kidnapping scheme, she rarely asks directly, instead attempting to prod Jogoro to a place where he’ll answer her question on his own
“That promise seemed absolutely necessary to us as middle schoolers.” I appreciate this distinction – it is much easier for middle schoolers to believe they’ll undergo some wholescale personal reinvention over the next three years. But such a quest only seems naive to them now
As Osanai makes this sad goodbye, Jogoro hunts through his minds’ eye, desperate not to be left alone here. Without someone to share it with, his mental palace is more like a prison, a perpetual reminder of his distance from the world
“As long as we’re together, that’ll never change.” Both of them understand they are enablers, but when has that ever made someone want to stop following their desire?
They each thought the other would somehow make things okay; a sympathetic thought, but that’s precisely the sort of abdication of personal responsibility inherent in being an enabler
Osanai reveals she’s been considering this breakup for quite some time, but wanted to wait until the Isawa situation was dealt with. They do make each other stronger, even if that strength is not expressed through normalcy
Love how the camera pulls to the side with Jogoro as he first affirms his anger, then slumps back and admits he’s in no position to judge. There’s been extremely little camera movement this episode, which makes this one flourish all the more significant – a clear relenting in his poise, as he sets aside blame regarding the recent events, and begins to consider the greater issue of what they mean to each other now
“We can’t even quarrel. All we can do is think.” Both of them fear they lack a standard set of human emotions, that they can only consider things intellectually, whether that is in terms of truth or responsibility
And yet, as they both consider the pain of separation, we see new flashes of vulnerability and sorrow from each of them
Oof, such a painful expression from Jogoro as he takes a last bite of the parfait, unable to savor the sweetness as Osanai silently leaves the cafe
The bridge that we’ve seen lit up in brilliant blue, warm twilight orange, and even Osanai’s crimson is now bleak and grey; their shared space has lost all color
Appropriately, Osanai trudges across under a crimson umbrella, like a tiny raft of honest selfhood in a great grey sea of a world that doesn’t want her
The industrial austerity of these compositions actually reminds me of Kizumonogatari, which was seeking a similarly alienating effect
Jogoro of course has his own blue umbrella. He wavers at a vending machine, clearly considering what Osanai would have picked, before he sees Kengo and his girlfriend happily going on a date. Osanai may have lied, but her deception did create some positive results
Back at school, Osanai conscripts Kengo into some sort of scheme
Our two leads pass without a shared word or glance
And another girl asks Jogoro out! I mean yeah, he is pretty cute, that doesn’t surprise me
Her name is Tokiko Nakamura
Meanwhile, Takahiko from the newspaper club wants to write a followup story on the abduction, which Kengo, knowing the truth, is doing his best to squash
We’re clearly in a bit of a transition phase here, expanding the cast after what was almost certainly the conclusion of one of the original novels. Presumably the bicycle thief was volume one, and the abduction was volume two
It does make for a welcome cooldown after the intensity of the cafe confrontation, though. We’ve got gentle flutes and strings accompanying Takahiko as he’s bathed in soft afternoon light, diligently pursuing his journalistic ambitions and maybe just uncovering Osanai’s criminal conspiracy
He bumps into Osanai at the library, and a delightfully staggered conversation ensues
Osanai considers his request to chat, then declares “I think I like straightforward boys.” They’ve both been swooped up!
Meanwhile, out in an empty field, a van catches fires and burns – perhaps the van from the kidnapping, perhaps another. Regardless, a fuse has been lit
And Done
Breakup! Divorce! Calamity and catastrophe! Our two leads have severed their bond, and it… frankly might be for the best for both of them. Jogoro will presumably find a place where his sharp analytical talents are properly valued, but Osanai’s passion is violence, and that’s not really a specialty one can gracefully integrate into civil society. Still, even as they were deciding to break it off, Jogoro and Osanai expressed more emotional sincerity and genuine pain than we’ve ever seen from them, admitting to the unspoken anxieties they’ve been harboring all along. For pretty much the entire length of this series, they’ve only been playing at “becoming normal,” never truly committing to abandoning their passions. With the bandaid of that excuse now ripped off, I’m eager to see what emerges in its place – if they can affirm how they actually feel about each other, as Osanai kept attempting, and perhaps find a happier route forward for Osanai herself. And in the meantime, I’m sure we’re in for some delightful complications as our heroes each pursue their own “normal romance.”
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