January 2024 – OGIUE MANIAX (2025)

Tweets for a new year, including the announcement of a planned set of Genshiken LINE stickers!

An Ohno from Genshiken drawing for 2024, the Year of the Dragon.

A Genshiken drawing used for the cover of a 2014 issue of Monthly Afternoon.

Kio considers making Genshiken LINE stickers, and then decides to do some investigating.

Kio discovers late that there was a Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei talk event and exhibition featuring the anime’s voice actors as well as the author Kumeta Kouji. Tsuchiyan, a person involved with Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei’s manuscripts replies to Kio and thanks him. Apparently they’ve met before, back when stuff was original airing.

Kio started wearing a haramaki, a stomach band for keeping warm. People in the replies love Sue.

Kio enjoys a Sayonara Zetsubou Sensei afternoon movie, and plans to watch the evening one as well. (I think this has to do with the SZS exhibit mentioned above?)

A person who is staff for anime radio shows realizes Kio follows her, and gets excited. They’re a big fan of Genshiken. Kio replies that he followed her on Twitter to make sure he doesn’t miss another event like the SZS stuff.

Kio’s ideas for most of the Genshiken LINE stickers, with him asking for suggestions. I asked him if he was planning on having them available internationally, but he said he didn’t even know that was possible.

The final line-up for the LINE stickers. Many famous Genshiken quotes are in there.

Kio drew the belly band art for Volume 2 of the manga Oshibana. He’s a fan and retweets the author Shima Tokio’s work quite often. Shima thanks Kio, and Kio mentions really liking the main heroine and wanting to draw her.

Kio was smiling all the way while looking at Daydream Hour, the Delicious in Dungeon artbook.

A short comic about building the model kit for Our Treasure’s Magna Palace from The Five Star Stories. Kio also has the comic up on Pixiv.

Wishing Shima Tokio a happy birthday.

Kio saw the live-action Golden Kamuy movie. The bear was properly scary.

Kio read the final chapter of Kuma Miko, and feels a sense of release.

LINE sticker roughs. Kio never thought he’d be drawing Haraguchi in the Reiwa era.

Someone pleads with Kio to get all of Genshiken animated, but Kio mentions that as much as he’d like that, it’s not up to him but anime producers.

Kio got the new Panpanya manga collection, titled Yuriika. He wasn’t able to read the comics in it when they were first being published, but he still take his time and get through them now.

I love me some mecha, and that’s why I want to give my thoughts on the recent giant robot anime that’s been the talk of the internet. I’m referring, of course, to Bullbuster.

Was there something else?

Joking aside (Go watch Bang Brave Bang Bravern!), I think 2023’s Bullbuster unfortunately went under the radar in a season and year full of great anime. It’s a mature show, but not in the mocking or edgy sense. Rather, it’s more akin to a salaryman anime with mecha included that, along the way, makes an argument for ethical companies in contrast to greedy corporations and their craven, plundering capitalism.

The plot: Okino Tetsurou is a mecha designer who is assigned to work with a small company called Namidome Industries. He’s a big fan of giant robot anime, and his latest work, the Bullbuster, was created to embody that aesthetic while also being useful for pest control. However, he soon finds out that “pest control” is a euphemism for large monsters roaming, and he learns that Namidome Industries was actually set up to eliminate these creatures so that the displaced residents can return home. However, there are many more hurdles than simply blasting the monsters away—like actually keeping a business running.

Bullbuster is cut from a cloth similar to that of Patlabor and Dai-Guard. While it doesn’t get into the heady philosophy of the Patlabor movies, Bullbuster has that environment of regular people working regular jobs that just happen to involve giant robots. In fact, the mecha are less glamorous than either of those aforementioned series, and they typically come across as more vehicles with robot aesthetics grafted on. That has a charm of its own.

There’s actually an even older work also springs to mind: The Unchallengeable Trider G7, a series about a boy who owns his own company and his own super robot. In its opening, the singer (Taira Isao) asks: “Do we fight to protect our company funds?” He then immediately answers his own question: “NO! We fight to protect the Earth!” Bullbuster is presented with a similar situation, only the heroes are not an ultra-rich kid with nigh-unlimited money like in Trider G7, but rather adults who have to deal with issues like budgets, gaining local support, and other unsexy things. In the process, it becomes a David vs. Goliath story that pits Namidome Industries against the major corporation, whose threat comes not merely from their size but also their prioritization of profit at the expense of all else. One thing I find notable is that while there are moments where the big corporation comes across as possibly just suffering from a few bad apples, it becomes increasingly clear that the rot is actually deep in the roots.

The main fault of Bullbuster is that it doesn’t look particularly good. Nothing about the visuals whether in stills or in motion is anything to write home about, and the CG used for the monsters looks outdated by a decade or more. Even for someone like me who doesn’t put too much stock into “animation quality,” I think it holds the show back.

Ultimately, what tells me that Bullbuster has an adult perspective is not just the business setting or the lack of teen tropes. Rather, it’s because whatever hopeful message the anime conveys is inevitably tinged with a bit of cynicism that can only come from being worn down by entering “the real world.” Even when problems are solved and people are held accountable, often the ones truly responsible for the harm caused remain protected by power and privilege. Nevertheless, I respect Bullbuster for telling us to not give up.

PS: The singer of the opening is NORISTRY, and he’s actually an utaite, or amateur/semi-pro online singer. If you like the song, he streams and releases covers pretty regularly.

On my recent trip to Japan, I watched an anime movie as in-flight entertainment: Doraemon: Nobita’s Little Star Wars 2021. This film is actually a remake of 1985’s Doraemon: Nobita’s Little Star Wars. While I have not seen the original, I have heard that it’s a beloved work in Japan.

Doraemon is one of those Japanese mega franchises that was never part of my childhood, so I hold no particular nostalgia for it. Even so, I do know that the annual movies for enduring mega franchises are big deals (see: One Piece, Detective Conan), both in terms of box office sales and getting major industry names to work on them. For example, in this case, the screenplay is actually by one of my favorite creators, Sato Dai (Eureka Seven, Battle Spirits: Shounen Toppa Bashin).

The basic premise of Doraemon is that a hapless boy named Nobita meets a robot cat from the future named Doraemon, whose main feature is the ability to pull out all sorts of fantastical gadgets: a door that can lead to anywhere, a block of gelatinous konjac that when consumed works as a universal translator, and so on. Nobita, Doraemon, and friends thus get into all sorts of hijinks in general, but in this instance, the adventure comes to them. A diminutive alien named Papi has escaped to Earth because of a coup that threatens his world’s democratic government, and the gang ends up helping out when the coup’s militaristic leader, Gilmore, comes to pursue them.

I definitely did not expect Doraemon to turn into Voltes V, but the flavor is similar in that both stories turn into the struggle between an oppressor and people who seek to be represented by their government rather than ruled by it. I don’t know if this pro-democracy message is the reason the old film got remade, but given the current state of the world and the rise of authoritarianism, I have to wonder.

Another thing I noticed is just how much love and care was put into animating Nobita’s friend and crush, Shizuka. I’ve read many times over the years that she is a common first love among kids in Japan, and it feels like the movie really leans into this.

I came in with few expectations, and got out of it a kid’s movie with a surprisingly important message relevant to this time and all times. Hope it’ll work!

In November of 2023, Virtual Youtuber Natsuiro Matsuri celebrated her 5th anniversary by holding a concert themed after the premier Japanese video streaming site of the 2000s, Nico Nico Douga. The homages came in every form, from covers of Vocaloid songs popular in Nico Nico’s heyday (“Senbonzakura,” “Miku Miku ni Shite Ageru”), to jingles and error messages, and of course, the flurry of on-screen viewer comments that was and still is its signature feature. It wouldn’t be a real Nico Nico parody without that.

For those familiar with Nico Nico, it was most surely a nostalgia trip, but I did see some confusion from the uninitiated. They wondered how people could enjoy a chat that obscures the actual video. I mean, isn’t it distracting?

In short: yes, it certainly is, but there are benefits as well. While not everyone likes the flying commentary (I know people who turn it off whenever possible), it also adds something to the viewing experience while also being a product of an older era of online video.

There are two important aspects of Nico Nico’s unique comment section that make it a boon more than a detriment. The first one is that because the text is on top of the video, it means you don’t have to constantly look away to see what people are saying. The second (and more crucial) one is that it fosters a pseudo-real-time communal experience without having to watch something live.

Similar to many other video platforms, Nico Nico allows for live streaming currently, but that wasn’t always the case. Like Youtube, it used to be purely pre-recorded material. While comment sections were nothing new even then, what Nico Nico allowed was the ability to have a user’s comment come up at a specific time in a video, so it’s clear what that person was reacting to. On top of that, anyone could post a message in this manner whether they saw a video the day it was uploaded or five years later, and they would show up all the same. This means you can feel like you’re watching with a group of people and quipping about what’s transpired despite not actually being together spatially or temporally.

In other words, Nico Nico created an asynchronous form of fostering community through its chat, and this extends even to the present day when live streams are plentiful. In contrast, Twitch and Youtube constantly make viewers feel like they’re missing out if they don’t watch live. Twitch’s VOD service is an empty husk now, while Youtube only lets you participate in the chat if you watched something live or at least right when it premiered. There is a comment section, and it even lets you put timestamps, but it is considered its own separate space. On Nico Nico, however, chat and comments are one and the same. This approach, I believe, helps to prevent anxiety about FOMO to some degree.

That‘s not to say Nico Nico doesn’t have its flaws. Non-potato video quality, the ability to watch stream recordings after the fact, and even priority for who can even view something at all can be locked behind a premium membership. Youtube is also just more intuitive to browse and use in any language. But Nico Nico found a solution to the problem of not being able to provide a true simultaneous viewing experience, and I think an approach along those lines still has plenty of merit.

I’m grateful to Matsuri for the reminder. Nico Nico is such a large piece of Japanese internet history, and for good reason. Maybe we can also be at a point where the flexibility displayed by Nico Nico can help people not be as beholden to rigid schedules and fear of missing out.

On my recent trip to Japan, I did the expected thing and went to Akihabara. While there, I spotted a Love Live! collaboration cafe at the arcade GiGO Akihabara Building 3, and decided that I had to go. Not only was it Love Live!-related, but it was actually focused on the OG μ’s girls!

I followed the signs, which led me all the way to the top floor. Curiously, the setup is such that you can’t take escalators all the way.

Upon entering, I found myself in a small room covered in Love Live! paraphernalia, including posters, gashapon machines, and display cases. As a video played with scenes from the anime, Love Live! Songs could also be heard at the same time, dividing my attention a bit. The actual cafe was hidden behind a door, making it impossible to actually see what it’s like without registering with the cashier there.

In addition to registering a time slot for the cafe, the cashier has another role: accepting payments for even more merch. The goods weren’t limited to the original girls but included all generations, though the only things that weren’t blindbox items were the acrylic stands featuring μ’s in pink outfits. I decided to play the odds a little bit, but as someone who much prefers a guaranteed thing, I also bought the acrylic stand for my all-time fave, Hanayo. Because I bought a couple things, I hit a threshold to also receive a free plastic mini poster with the other eight girls included.

There just so happened to be a time slot available shortly after I arrived, so I decided to put my name down.

The actual cafe was brightly lit and covered in μ’s art on the walls and the tables. A couple of the voices, Uchida Aya (Minami) and Iida Riho (Rin), had autographed some of the displays.

The only other collabo cafe/restaurant I’d attended had been for Legend of the Galactic Heroes, which is aesthetically and thematically quite far-removed from Love Live! However, one thing it had in common with the Love Live! cafe is that you could also get merch by ordering food and drinks. In this case, the items consisted of coasters selected at random (of course), with drinks and desserts netting patrons one coaster and main courses two.

I already had meal plans for later, so I decided to go with just a single Hanayo-themed beverage, which was a soft drink consisting of apple juice and muscat grape jelly (Side note: I learned through this trip that muscat grape is ridiculously delicious). I did not win a Hanayo coaster, but rather one for “START:DASH!!,” which in the anime is the first song performed by Honoka, Umi, and Minami.

In contrast to my conservative order, other patrons went quite hard. I saw one person end up with around five drinks, two main courses, and I recall at least one dessert (though my memory might be off). Other individuals were similar. However, as someone who never, ever whaled in gacha in mobile form, I was hesitant to do the IRL version any more than I already had. I understand the desire, though.

You can see everything I ended up with (plus a canvas badge of Yugiri Tsuzuri from Hasunora I purchased elsewhere). While nothing there is really mind blowing, I’m glad I got to have this experience, and I’m happy I got to share it today, on Hanayo’s birthday.

I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve been to Japan, and every stay has been memorable in the best ways. However, there’s was always one item on the bucket list that I could never quite fulfill: going to Comic Market (aka Comiket), Japan’s—and likely the world’s largest comics-related event in the world.

That’s now changed. In an adventure that felt like nearly two decades in the making, I am proud to say that I am (technically speaking) a Comiket veteran.

My Feelings Going In

I’ve read a lot about and related to Comiket over the years. I’ve had friends and acquaintances tell me about the times they went and the money they burned. The event also looms large in my favorite manga, Genshiken—scenes such as Sasahara losing every inhibition his first time attending, Madarame breaking his hand but choosing to try to stay anyway, and an incognito Ogiue spilling her BL all over the floor are all downright iconic. But I’ve also seen comments that the event is some combination of overrated and overhyped, so I wanted to make sure I came to Comic Market 103 with expectations that were neither ridiculously lofty nor blatantly unfair.

A classic cautionary tale is that of the anime fan who gets disillusioned upon visiting Japan, because they had previously been viewing the country and its culture through the inherently distorted lens of anime. My first time there, I was prepared for everyone I met to actually dislike anime because I didn’t want to make that mistake, only to have a different experience. While Japan wasn’t quite like my animes, it was also not that far removed, and I could still appreciate it as a fan. I approached Comiket with all this in mind.

Downside

I want to start by laying out some of the negatives I ran into.

First and foremost, there were no Genshiken doujinshi, as far as I could tell. Boooo.

Second, getting to and from the venue, Tokyo Big Sight, can be an ordeal—especially depending on what time you decide to travel. On Day 1 (of 2), I ended up in a classic sardines-in-a-can situation in the morning, had to wait in line for about two hours before I could actually get into the exhibition space, and made the mistake of staying to the very end. In that last instance, it meant that a walk back to the train station that should have taken five minutes ended up being about an hour. Comiket is literally the most highly attended comic event in the world, and the approximately 30,000 circles (i.e. doujinshi vendors) would itself be considered a large convention. When you have to walk back with that many people, the pedestrian traffic jam is intimidating.

I was very fortunate that, despite Comiket taking place in late December, the weather was surprisingly pleasant. Had things not been so nice, the wait (and my overall experience) might have been more miserable.

Third is that there is very limited time to get anything, and nothing is guaranteed. A small fraction of tickets are for early entry (the doors open at 10AM), and are sold at a premium while also being lottery only. Otherwise, most people (including myself) have regular morning or early afternoon entry tickets, and can only get in later. On top of that, each day ends at 4pm, circles typically are there for only one day, and the most popular artists (especially the 18+ ones) will have massive lines. For example, I tried to get something from Mika PikaZo (character designer of Hakos Baelz and Fire Emblem Engage), and ended up going through three lines only to discover she had sold out of everything. There is a serious sense of FOMO that can make the losses sting—if something is popular, you basically have to impulse buy, or else it might be gone.

But This Is Accounted For!

There may be inevitable issues at Comiket, but that’s all the more reason I have to commend the staff for their excellent organization and crowd control. While things took time, they still progressed smoothly. And once inside, the crowds were not difficult to manage—about comparable to a large-ish anime convention. This is also owing to the attendees and circle members themselves, both of whom generally tried to follow the rules. On a few occasions, I had inadvertently blocked one table while looking at the content of another, and was asked to avoid doing so in consideration of others. The sense I got was that a lot of people involved, be they staff or otherwise, were very familiar with both Comiket and Tokyo Big Sight itself.

Something that helped with the crowds was that halls could open up to the outside, which prevented massive lines for certain artists from clogging up the aisles. I heard from a friend that this seems to have started since 2020 as a COVID precaution, and that this is an added side benefit. There’s a chance I might have felt somewhat differently if the weather hadn’t been so good, but I would have appreciated the improved ventilation regardless.

And as for FOMO, it turns out that a lot of artists sell their stuff in stores after the event, in places like the popular doujin shop Melonbooks. So not all hope is lost (though for buyers outside of Japan, you likely have to spend more on shipping fees and third parties).

What this all means is that negatives do exist, but they are accounted for and mitigated to a decent degree.

Upside

Although Comiket is not perfect, it’s still a great event that showcases what makes the otaku spirit special. There are drawbacks to being so massive, but the sheer amount of stuff both ultra popular and extremely niche, all in the same space, is a sight to behold.

The biggest categories this year were VTubers and various mobile games (or at least mobile game–adjacent works). But even if you’re into none of that, there’s still a chance you can find creators with which you share a common interest—and that’s even putting aside the 18+ stuff.

Here is some of what I ran into over the course of two days.

• Srungle fanfiction
• Guides to NYPD call signs and insignia
• Illustrated food guides
• Andy Hole x MIX from Aquarion EVOL in the year 2023
• Original mecha drawings
• Pilgrimage guides for fans of particular franchises
• A book dedicated to events for Kawamura Maria, the voice of Naga from Slayers
• Guides to bootleg ZOIDS
• Cure Precious x Black Pepper Precure het shipping
• Illustrated collections from actual VTuber character designers/collaborators
• Cosplay model photo collections
• Initial D BL
• Yotsuba& parodies of Zambot 3 and Daitarn 3
• Both het and LGBT Gundam: The Witch from Mercury shipping
• Literally Sonoda Ken’ichi

It might be easier to find smaller events throughout the year that are hyper-focused on your particular interests, but nowhere is the sheer diversity of fandoms more on display than at Comic Market, even if certain specific titles dominate the majority of the physical space. It’s wonderful.

Vs. Conventions

The sense of discovery at Comiket is second to none, and I can’t help but contrast it with anime conventions in the US. One of my biggest problems with artist alleys is that it’s hard to find fanart of more obscure titles. This is because con tables are expensive (Otakon is $375 USD as opposed to Comiket’s 8000 yen, around $60–$80), and artists tend to display what’s most popular, probably out of the need to recoup the expenses. It’s not impossible, but sussing out the weird stuff involves going through artist portfolios or asking, which can be awkward or time-consuming. On the other hand, because Comiket tables are generally grouped together by interest, and their specific interests are front and center, you can know at a glance what to expect.

There was an industry presence at Comic Market 103, but it was much smaller than the space dedicated to doujin works. This is actually the opposite of American conventions, where the official booths and merch usually take up the majority of floor space. One thing I found interesting is that most of them, more than being manga-related, were more otaku-focused. That is to say, they were properties that attract hardcore dedicated fans—things like VTubers, Love Live!, The iDOLM@STER, mobile games, etc. One interesting presence was a booth for My Youth Romantic Comedy Is Wrong, As I Expected, which is celebrating its 10th anniversary. I saw quite a line for merch there, and as a fan of the series, I’m glad to see it get some real love.

Another difference is that con-style panels and talks, be they fan-run or professional, are non-existent. They’re typically one of my favorite things, so their absence is a tad disappointing, but I also already knew that would be the case. All this goes back to time being a precious resource. No one really lingered or tried to socialize either, and the fact that the food truck lines were short (unlike an anime con) encapsulated one important fact: Attendees had priorities, and only a few hours to get what they wanted.

Overall Thoughts

Comic Market isn’t really one fandom, but rather dozens side by side in the same space. This approach has its strengths and weaknesses, and both are magnified by the sheer size of the population attending it. But while there are disparate groups, they all have the same general goal of finding the books that resonate on a personal level, and I think this gives the entire event a certain focused energy.

At the Osaki train station, one of the transfer points to get to Tokyo Big Sight, there was a chalkboard sign both welcoming people to Comiket and thanking everyone on the way back, depending on which direction you were coming from. It’s a small gesture in the grand scheme of things, but this double-sided sign’s presence really hit home for me the fact that the majority of hardcore fandom in Japan descends on a small strip of land.

I can’t say if this should be the first doujin event a person should visit, and it might not even be the best choice, depending on what one values. However, I can personally say that I had a great time, I’m happy to have done it, and if the stars align, I’d be more than willing to go again.

What does it mean for a work of fiction to feel “realistic?” It’s a question I return to over and over because of how subjective the answer can be. The more I’ve thought about different possible takes, however, the more I’ve found that I resonate strongly with something I call “emotional continuity,” and it informs which series I view most positively.

Broadly speaking, there are many types of continuity in storytelling. There’s the simple that the events of the past should inform the events of the future. A character who loses an arm in episode 1 of a show shouldn’t get it back with no explanation in episode 10. Then there’s capital “C” continuity, like what American superhero comics often deal in, where all the individual parts ideally look together to form a consistent universe and timeline across multiple different series. “Emotional continuity” isn’t nearly so complex. Instead, I define it as simply when events that should affect a given character emotionally result in an appropriate response, and that this character remembers this feeling on some level. Those reactions and memories don’t have to be “sensible,” and they don’t have to result in a “character arc,” though both are possibilities. They simply have to feel consistent with the character and their way of being, and then leave a mark on that character.

One work I’ve debated with others about realism (and by extension show quality, though the two are not necessarily related) is the anime Mobile Suit Gundam: Iron-Blooded Orphans. Whereas others saw the character actions as making little sense and thus stunting the overall story, I felt the opposite. I came to strongly understand each character’s motivations, especially in the core cast, and to see how early events both happy and tragic would inform the general trajectory of their approaches to life.

Another anime that I’ve argued about is Kill la Kill, specifically in regards to the idea that the heroine, Ryuko, is a strong main character even though she didn’t receive much “character development.” The big sticking point for detractors is that she doesn’t really change significantly throughout the series or learn any personal lessons. However, I find that even if she doesn’t transform dramatically, she conveys a strong sense of “emotional continuity” based in her anger, her stubbornness, and her desire to right wrongs. Even if she’s still the same rage-filled Ryuko by the end, it’s impossible to say that the events of the series don’t affect her emotionally or inform her friendships, battles, and decisions.

I realized that “emotional continuity” also greatly informs my utter fondness for the series Heartcatch Precure! and might even explain why the series is often seen as the best of the Precure franchise or somewhat overrated. Years ago, a blogger named Scamp tried to watch through as much Precure as he could, but ended up dropping every show, including Heartcatch. His reason was that nothing ever seemed to happen for the most part, and that dramatic, story-changing moments came too abruptly. This surprised me, because I felt the total opposite—that the show built up to every significant plot point like a skilled architect oversaw the construction. I even wrote a response. In hindsight, while I used the phrase “emotional logic,” i.e. reasoning through feelings, to describe what I saw, what I was actually highlighting was emotional continuity.

Moonlight…in suffering loss…felt wracked with guilt, giving up her role as protector. The task to defend the world had been passed onto a new generation…and as they collected the Heart Seeds, they laid the groundwork for Moonlight to redeem herself, to learn from her mistakes while also forgiving herself…. Although Cure Moonlight’s return is telegraphed to a degree, for me it built anticipation … I felt satisfied that the show had reached a strong emotional point with a solid expression of how the feelings of each character, especially Moonlight, defined their actions.

Rarely in fiction is anything utterly devoid of emotional continuity, but the best series make you feel as if they care about what’s happened to their characters. Something that has had issues with maintaining this continuity in recent years was World Wrestling Entertainment, and that seems to be finally turned around in the past couple years. While there are general structural issues with how WWE presents itself that go beyond emotional continuity, it’s telling that fans had very little faith in their favorites wrestlers being recognizable beyond a basic template. Continuity is played fast and loose in general, and the highly physical nature of their format means injuries and other unpredictable elements can gum up the best laid plans, but there’s a persistent sense that what a given wrestler does or says one week should actually matter the next.

Do you find emotional continuity to be important? If so, how much is it a priority for you? I’m curious to see how others feel.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End is simply one of the finest fantasy series I’ve ever seen, on par with Witch Hat Atelier. From its premise, to its intriguing world-building, to its endearing cast of characters, Frieren is like an oasis in a desert of flimsily conceived genre works. Among its many strengths, one thing that I find most compelling is the way it portrays how different races perceive time differently. This is especially the case with the titular heroine, Frieren.

A long-lived elf mage, Frieren was originally a member of the small party that managed to defeat the demon lord after a decade of adventure. Shortly after their victory, she and her allies are invited to live in the royal capital, but she leaves for a “short” while to continue her pursuit of weird and obscure spells. By the time she returns (50 years later), their young and handsome leader, the vaunted hero Himmel, is old and gray. At his funeral, Frieren deeply regrets having been his companion for “only” 10 years—what others would consider a long and life-defining era instead barely existed for her.

Later episodes reinforce just how much of a drop in the bucket the 10-year quest was for Frieren. Against Aura the Guillotine, a mighty and feared demon, all other adventurers would do everything in their power to eliminate her for the danger she posed. Yet, Frieren held back so that she could deceive Aura for 80 years before dropping the hammer in the modern day. This truly gives a sense of how differently Frieren sees everything as an elf many centuries old, but also just how impactful Himmel was to her.

In thinking about Himmel’s influence, another anime character came to mind: Ikari Shinji from Evangelion. Specifically, his relationship with Nagisa Kaworu at the end of the TV series holds some parallels.

Kaworu shows up in Episode 24 of Neon Genesis Evangelion, and he makes an incredible impact on Shinji. Their immediate friendship is a salve for the emotionally wounded Shinji, who opens up to Kaworu. However, by the end of the episode, Kaworu is dead. This relationship lasted only half an hour of runtime, and less than a week in-story. Nevertheless, this brief love (be it platonic or romantic) is powerful indeed.

The way Frieren sees her time with Himmel is not unlike how Shinji views his few days with Kaworu. It was there, it was magical, and it was gone just like that. It’s beautiful yet heart-rending, and these couple of details really showcase how amazing Frieren the series is as a whole.

Welcome to 2024!

I mentioned having some fun surprises last month, and I let the cat out of the bag on Twitter a few days ago: I attended Comic Market for the first time!

While I don’t have a schedule fully planned out, you can expect the next couple months to have at least a few blog posts about my experience at Comiket, as well as other bits of my trip to Japan. I’m actually a bit worried about them overshadowing other topics, including the new anime season, but hopefully it’ll all work out.

May the Year of the Dragon bring fortune to everyone, but especially my Patreon subscribers:

General:

Ko Ransom

Diogo Prado

Alex

Dsy

Sue Hopkins fans:

Serxeid

Hato Kenjirou fans:

Elizabeth

Yajima Mirei fans:

Machi-Kurada

Blog highlights from December:

Best Anime Characters of 2023

The annual tradition continues.

The Role of Unique Voices in VTubing, K-Pop, and More

Some thoughts I’ve been having about how singers are presented in various media.

Anime NYC 2023 Was a hololive Bonanza

My con report, at least for all the hololive content that was there.

Kio Shimoku

Kio drew a special Christmas Ogiue!

Closing

I did experience the earthquake that hit Ishikawa Prefecture, but fortunately only from a great distance. I know there have been some tragic losses, but I hope everything gets up and running for those most affected.