Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re going to be continuing our investigations of the intriguing Shoushimin Series, originally written by Hyouka scribe Honobu Yonezawa, and adapted by the accomplished Mamoru Kanbe. The series’ first episode demonstrated both of these artists at their best, with Yonezawa offering a fresh collection of intriguing, multifaceted adolescent stars, and Kanbe bedecking their stories in a singular combination of lush background art and sterile, alienating intimacy.
So far, what is most clear about our protagonists Osanai and Jogoro is that we don’t actually know anything about them. Jogoro is observant and Osanai is indifferent to her peers, but they are otherwise self-conscious ciphers, dedicated to a project of “becoming normal” that seems to imply a goal of becoming part of the scenery, making no waves and attracting no attention from those around them. It’s a particularly bleak variation on Hyouka’s pursuit of low-energy living, and its advocates are as strange as you’d expect, their idle exchanges betraying a callous disconnection from their environment. Such ambiguity might be worrying if presented by another team; but given Yonezawa’s understanding of characterization and Kanbe’s fluency in dramatic tone, I have every reason to suspect these mysteries are purposeful, and our leads are precisely as unknowable as this team wants them to be. Let’s delve into their dark hearts as we return to Shoushimin Series!
Episode 2
This OP remains utterly dazzling. Apparently it was boarded and animated by Keisuke Hiroe, who appears to be a fast-rising new talent. His biggest role seems to be animation director on five episodes of Fate Apocrypha, but he also unsurprisingly handled animation direction on a few episodes of Frieren. Seems he started at BONES and has since become a highly sought freelancer
Alongside the wolves inside our leads, this OP carries a few other motifs – the fruit desserts that Osanai so coveted, symmetrical framing of our protagonists, and a prominent focus on light versus shadows, presumably also referring to our leads’ dual identities (and how those identities separate them from their peers). We’ve already seen that motif carried through into the show proper, during the sequence where the two of them stood on opposite side of that bridge’s shadow
“How to Make Good Cocoa”
Subdued colors carry us into a covered street market, where Jogoro runs into Osanai in disguise. Once again, the contrast of lighting is ostentatious and immediate: Jogoro stands in the one beam of light piercing through the rooftop, while Osanai is obscured in shadow
“That was a while ago, so I’m over it.” In spite of her prior shock, Osanai is not feeling sentimental about her bike or strawberry tarts
As the scene continues, Osanai is drawn into the light alongside Jogoro
Apparently the guidance counselors asked her some questions about her stolen bike. Seems it was spotted at a break-in at a student’s apartment on Sunday
“They criticized me for letting my bike get stolen. So I got bummed out and decided I wanted to go shopping.” Osanai still seems aggressively indifferent to her peers and society at large, seeing all these people as impositions
The storyboarding emphasizes both the inherently public nature of this venue and Osanai’s isolation within it; our pair are constantly shot through surveillance-implying gaps in the crowd, while Osanai’s hat acts like a shield, generally guarding her expressions from anyone but Jogoro
Kengo invites Jogoro over, and says Osanai can come too. Interestingly, their conversation is portrayed as entirely filling the screen, rather than the text overlay over the existing composition more frequently used for illustrating phone dialogue. A choice that speaks to Shoushimin’s prioritization of focus and perspective; we’re following Jogoro’s perspective, and his focus was entirely drawn to his phone
The lighting flips for this conversation – Jogoro in shadow, Osanai in sunshine. Seems appropriate for this show; two creatures of darkness attempting to somehow draw each other into the light
Osanai of course agrees to join him, as per their shared rules
The precise geometry of the layouts seems to echo the cold, angular precision of our leads. It’s a pleasure seeing the aesthetic Kanbe used for The Perfect Insider adjusted and applied to a story with better writing
Kengo is surprised they brought a cake, but seems less so when Jogoro mentions it was Osanai’s idea. I wonder what impression of her he’s developed at this point
More focus on mirrors as portals to true or alternate selves, as we see Kengo’s reflected smile
Jogoro is impressed with Kengo’s cocoa-making abilities. Love this cut from in Kengo’s lap, highlighting the delicate series of hand motions he uses for his cocoa-making process. He seems like a precise sort of guy; between this and his actions in the first episode, I’m getting the impression of a perfectionist who wishes to impart his knowledge and work ethic on everyone, regardless of whether or not they’re actually seeking such guidance. Close to the opposite of our leads, who have made a philosophy of never imposing themselves on others
Jogoro gives an overly polite, clearly insincere thanks for this discussion, to which Kengo frowns deeply. It seems like he actually wants something from Jogoro, and saw his cocoa technique as a gift to break the ice regarding his desired favor
Jogoro can’t help toying with Kengo a bit; it’s obvious Kengo has something else on his mind, but Jogoro is happy to marvel that Kengo interrupted his sunday just to teach him cocoa-pouring techniques. So we’re finally seeing some of Jogoro’s own edge, as well as how comfortable he feels around Kengo, that he’s willing to be this abrasive with him
“You don’t seem to have lost your edge at all.” Yep, Kengo actually knows him
“I’ll get to the point. Did something happen to you in middle school? You seem too different. Where’d the seemingly invincible Kaboto Jogoro go?” Kengo’s unsurprisingly bad at this sort of indirect social dance, and just charges through with his big question
Kengo says he used to be a petulant whiz kid who got huffy whenever anyone knew something he didn’t. But he says he’s “worse now,” as he just acts polite and keeps that contempt inside. No surprise that Kengo would prefer an articulated challenge to silent judgment
Jogoro says he became like an “ordinary person” naturally, something we know isn’t true. So what was the event Kengo’s seeking, when Jogoro’s ostentatious intelligence and self-regard bit him so badly he decided to hide his feelings from then on?
“It’s been three years. You just haven’t changed enough.” A fair counter by Jogoro; is it reasonable to expect a friend to stay the same person for years, particularly from childhood to young adulthood?
The eyes in this show are so distinctive, generally possessing two separate iris shades, further emphasizing the dual nature of the protagonists
“I think you’re hoping there’s some simple reason like some trauma for my change. But there’s nothing like that. I’m not trying to become an ordinary person for any particular reason, just like you’re not trying to be benevolent for any particular reason.” I assume there actually is more to it than this, but I do like Jogoro’s explanation regardless. We have a tendency to assign narrative consequentiality to any changes in other people, because narratives are how we make sense of the world. But in truth, people often just change gradually over time, with no clear, outstanding impetus for the transition. It’s not dramatically convenient, but it is realistic
Heading to the bathroom, Jogoro stares at himself in the doorknob’s reflection, one more mirror challenging his self-image
Osanai seems to have run into Kengo’s sister, who remembers Jogoro
She points out that Kengo somehow made hot cocoa while only leaving a single dirty spoon behind. He appears to have set up a mystery for Jogoro to solve, presumably to draw Jogoro back to his original, proudly know-it-all self
Osanai is concerned, seemingly recognizing the trap
Thus Jogoro sets to work attempting to explain the mystery. I assume a lack of this instinct is what makes traditional mystery dramas fall so flat for me – personally, just knowing some information is hidden from me does not provoke any natural compulsion to discover it. My response to most mysteries is “I assume there’s some gimmicky trick to it,” and I have little enthusiasm about being proven either right or wrong
Yonezawa’s stories avoid losing my interest because the mysteries are generally vehicles for characterization, much like Nisio Isin’s mysteries. Still, there are points in the writing of both where it’s clear they’re indulging a passion I simply do not share
“My suspicion is that this case can be solved by reframing the question.” Jogoro’s words seemingly speak to Kengo’s own mystery, the question of what happened to Jogoro
Jogoro’s posture changes as he begins to seem genuinely frustrated by his inability to solve Kengo’s puzzle; he stoops forward, essentially creating a shadow across himself as he shifts from the light of normalcy back towards the darkness of obsession. Osanai notices the change as well
As in the first episode, reality seems fluid at times, the characters flashing across locations mid-discussion, as if the scenery is echoing their mental flights of fancy. While their body language is generally defensive and they skulk in the shadows of the active scenery, when they’re pondering a puzzle, they are free
Gosh, the backgrounds are so lush in this show! They do a remarkable job of maintaining relatively subdued colors while nonetheless celebrating the vivid natural landscape of this town
On their way home, Jogoro assures Osanai that this is not a sign of him backsliding, that he won’t do anything like that again
“We have a promise. But our promise doesn’t decide what kind of person you have to be. Today, you were like how you were the first time I met you. You could be that Kobato-kun again if it’s more fun for you. I won’t mind.” “I’ve quit playing the detective.”
And Done
Jeez, our leads sure are good at torturing themselves. But I suppose that’s part and parcel with this stage of adolescence; not only is everything around you changing with tremendous speed, there’s also a crushing sense of finality to all of it, like if you don’t decide your “true identity” now you’ll only be left behind. Though Jogoro attests there’s no specific reason for his shift, it’s clear that he’s making a conscious, persistent choice to avoid taking the spotlight, in spite of being naturally inclined to do so. And what does Osanai truly think, what with her nervous attentiveness to Jogoro’s moods in spite of her stated indifference to his persona? Our incidental mysteries are shading in the details of two characters who seem unknowable even to themselves, all while Kanbe’s forceful direction isolates the contradictions and reversals of their identities. These two are definitely my kind of mystery!
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