Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re returning to the tormented saga of Ave Mujica, as Sakiko’s bandmates continue to enable her high-concept exorcism of personal demons. Though really, it doesn’t seem like she’s making emotional progress through any of this; rather, Ave Mujica is merely a vehicle for her to wallow in despair, framing her whole identity as a product of her trauma. By pinning her hopes on this melodramatic act of alleged liberation, she is only demonstrating how she is still defined and bound by her abandoned hopes. She is like Soyo cringing at that first-season performance of Haru Hikage, still too wrapped up in the pain of its associations to enjoy it as a fond memory.
Moreover, while MyGO’s post-CRYCHIC players had the good fortune of encountering Anon Chihaya, a sympathetic figure bearing baggage of her own, Sakiko’s associates seem far less inclined to guide her through this fraught period. Uika’s the only one who seems like a genuinely good influence, while Umiri is indifferent, Nyamu actively hostile, and Mutsumi clearly caught up in her own parental anxieties, clinging to her one friend even as that friend actively provokes her trauma. Is this the night that the doll Mortis cuts her strings, and can she even walk without those strings to guide her? Let’s get to it!
Episode 3
Our new episode title is “Quid Faciam?”, simply “what should I do?” A title that points to the crossroads facing all of Ave Mujica’s members; their unity of purpose barely survived their first performance, and now all of them (well, except maybe Umiri) are grappling with the distance between what they wanted from this band and what it has actually become
Uika wanted to reconnect with her oldest friend, and has since learned Sakiko is actually clinging to this band as a desperate coping mechanism. Mutsumi wanted to stay at Sakiko’s side, and is now being punished for that desire through the direct provocation of her anxieties regarding her famous parents. Nyamu wanted fame and diversion, and sees the band as potentially having run its course on both counts. And Sakiko, of course, wanted something Ave Mujica was never going to provide – validation, vindication, and maybe even a road forward. But you can’t build a future out of past regrets, and it seems unlikely Ave Mujica will ever make her genuinely happy
We open on Mutsumi still collapsed vacantly in her chair as the audience grows increasingly nervous
Sakiko picks up the beat swiftly, attempting to incorporate Mutsumi’s collapse into their theater drama. They’re venting their feelings like MyGO, but in front of an audience of thousands, with no common trust to protect them like that possessed by the MyGO girls. When MyGO performed near the end of their season, they were playing for each other, their performance and feelings directed across the stage, their backs frequently turned to the audience. In contrast, Ave Mujica is like a bucket of crabs, all dragging each other down in the expression of their feelings
Lots of loaded imagery in this OP – the dual nature of the characters is the most prominent motif, conveyed both through visual doppelgangers and through the consistent presence of mirrors, wherein the characters’ alternate identities are revealed. There’s also a thread of Uika chasing after Sakiko, which already seems relevant. Uika might be the only one who can save Sakiko from herself
Aw, those assholes. We jump straight from the OP to after the show, with Mutsumi’s bandmates praising her for her apparent impromptu performance
“Bluffing her way out – Mutsumi isn’t capable of that.” Sakiko does seem to understand her friend to some degree, which makes it all the worse how she’s exploiting her. She knows Mutsumi would never say no to her, and also knows Mutsumi is incapable of performing the hollow niceties inherent in self-promotion – did she really believe the masks alone would protect her friend? Another unfortunate contrast – Saki’s profound, sincere protectiveness of Tomori versus Sakiko’s thoughtless exploitation of Mutsumi
Mutsumi once again retreats to the basement, where she is visited by a plush doll of herself. I like the contrast between this doll and Sakiko’s avatar – Sakiko’s mother’s doll is porcelain, its form sharp and perfect, a distant avatar of fragile beauty, while Mutsumi’s doll is soft, indistinct in its features, both huggable and unlikely to be broken. As far as mirror-selves go, both their dolls seem to embody what they hope to be
The doll leads her to a toy TV set, where she is interviewed and asked if she’ll become a famous actress like her mother. From a young age, the entire world has been staring accusingly at her, asking if she’ll measure up to the mother who is everyone else’s idol, but distant to Mutsumi herself
“All those praises belong to Minami-chan and Ta-kun. Not a single one belongs to Mutsumi-chan.” Once again, louder than MyGO’s drama, but still engaging and effective. As before, her terms of address for her parents demonstrate she’s no closer to them than their “adoring” fans. Her whole life story emphasizes how fame and intimacy are distinct, perhaps incompatible goals, even as Sakiko attempts to paper over her own lost intimacy with the glory of fame
We run through her journey with the guitar. “Mutsumi finally found something that belongs only to her.”
But when she found others to play with, her own “voice” was drowned out. She actually does want to be noticed and praised, but fears it as well
“That’s not what I meant. I can’t feel the joy of being in a band. I can’t make my guitar sing.” Playing with others only made her feel more isolated, only reminded her of how she can’t connect with others. But when she admits to that feeling, it feels like she’s blaming Sakiko. So as usual, she tries to avoid saying anything at all, knowing her words only hurt the people around her
“I’m the one who ruined CRYCHIC.” Aw, girl, no
“Bringing her into this world, pushing her into this situation – that was me.” Glad to hear Sakiko taking some responsibility for how she’s misused her friend
Sakiko reflecting “I’ve known her since the beginning” prompts a look of regret from Uika, who apparently feels jealous of the closeness Sakiko feels towards others. And thus she offers donuts, the symbol of unity presented by her other band partner
But Sakiko “still has things to do.” Donut friendship denied!
“Performing requires being both delicate and bold.” Meanwhile, Nyamu stews at an acting workshop, frustrated that the do-nothing Mutsumi has somehow eclipsed her presence within the band. I’m frankly really excited to get more from Nyamu – she’s so far been a pure trolling irritant, so it’s nice seeing her genuinely get frustrated, which implies she genuinely cares
Nyamu bumps into her neighbor, another apparent performer who she refers to as “LAYER-senpai”
“If I recall, you’re majoring in acting, correct?” So Nyamu does indeed have ambitions beyond being a streamer, and is already studying at some kind of performance school. She does seem generally older than the rest of our group
And she’s always selling, immediately trying to parlay this praise into some kind of cross-promotion. She actually understands the industry they’re in, and is doing her best to genuinely conquer it – no wonder Mutsumi’s accidental fame annoys her
Nice use of smears for the sticks as she practices on her drum kit. It seems her schedule is managed down to the minute, all through her own dedication
“Honestly, at first I thought she was making use of her parents’ fame. After all, that’s a kind of talent too – you should make use of everything you have.” Nyamu offers a perspective we haven’t seen so far: the genuine career performer, who isn’t caught up in any sort of self-involved passion for self-expression, but is nonetheless entirely dedicated to achieving their dream. Such a person doesn’t begrudge the connections of others – they just work harder, knowing they themselves would work any similar angles in a similar way
“Muuko is a true genius.” She might be taking the wrong lesson from this whole affair, though
“Let’s add each other as friends.” Nyamu’s language of affection doesn’t really compute for someone like Mutsumi
And so she moves to her default mode of engagement: provocation, by suggesting both of them leave Ave Mujica
But Mutsumi can’t. While she doesn’t profess any actual interest or attachment to Ave Mujica, she knows Sakiko will break if she leaves
“If there’s a chance, I’ll grab it. If there isn’t, I’ll carve my way out.” Yeah, Nyamu is really selling herself this episode. I appreciate a character who is so unabashedly ambitious
“Are you satisfied with just staying as you are, Muuko? Isn’t Sakiko just obviously holding you back?” Such a character can often say what others can’t, bound as they are by the feared reception of their words. But Nyamu is not ashamed of her ambition, and she’s similarly not afraid of pointing out uncomfortable truths to others. The fact that she’s actually talking shop with Mutsumi so directly is a sign of respect
“Nyamu, why do you keep saying such awful things?” Of course, Mutsumi’s in no position to see these words as anything but an attack, an attempt to undermine her dearest values
Nyamu again proves her proud audacity as Sakiko arrives, saying she’s happy that Sakiko heard every word. She was fine with the melodrama of Ave Mujica as a performance gimmick, but she’s more than tired of her bandmates actually living that way. She’s a professional on the rise, forced to slum it with self-important children who nonetheless possess the keys to the kingdom. She’s seeming more like the “Dark Anon” of this season by the moment – someone who’s similarly unimpressed with their emotional drama, but also does not give a shit about them
Mutsumi’s stuffed animal buddies agree that Sakiko is unfair to her
Their next event is a primetime live show, courtesy of Mutsumi’s mother
“They want Mortis to repeat the event from the first day of the tour.” So now even her expressions of sincere despair and panic are being appropriated as part of the show. While Nyamu seeks an audience through artifice, Mutsumi gains one accidentally through sincerity, neither of them acquiring what they desire
“That’s like they’re saying Ave Mujica’s music isn’t needed.” The first time Mutsumi’s “voice” actually stands out on stage, it is because she has eclipsed and made irrelevant her fellow bandmates. A cruel fulfillment of her wish for her song to be heard
Sakiko attempts to defend Mutsumi, while Nyamu just wants her to embrace her new role. Mutsumi might be racing out ahead of Nyamu in terms of exposure, but all publicity is good publicity, and Nyamu will make use of whatever tools are available to her
“Does a band that takes their performances lightly even have a reason to exist?” “Huh? Of course they do. Responding to what’s requested is what entertainment is all about.” Sakiko and Nyamu conveniently illustrate the gulf between their perspectives
“Do you even understand what the audience wants?” Nyamu’s last words nonetheless hit hard, resonating with both Sakiko’s disregard for the audience and for her bandmates. Is constructing a performance for herself any more noble than what Nyamu is doing, particularly if Mutsumi is the one paying the cost?
Debate over Mutsumi’s performance gets the whole band arguing after their latest show, and once again, she sees herself as engineering the dissolution of Sakiko’s sacred place
Excellent use of sound design here, as the arguments of Mutsumi’s bandmates blend with those from CRYCHIC’s breakup, all while the train platform announcer warns of a “last chance for boarding.” If she doesn’t change things now, she’ll incur the same result
“How long are you going to keep following me?” Sakiko finally asks her
“Whenever I speak up, I ruin everything.” She has good reason not to voice her feelings
“You used to talk more. You used to smile more. Now you leave everything to me! Why!? Why aren’t you at my side!?” Mutsumi has learned not to speak in order to avoid causing problems, but Sakiko needs a genuine friend, not just a silent follower
Sakiko seems to realize she’s asking too much of Mutsumi, but of course cannot admit to that, and so simply flees
Thus Mutsumi truly does feel it’s all her fault. The pre-show imagery offers a calculated reprise of MyGO’s opening – as the umbrellas representing shelter float away from her, she is consumed by the doll, which she now acknowledges as the Mortis identity. I’m sure this will all end very healthily
And Done
Oh goddamnit Sakiko, can’t you see what you’re doing!? Your theatrical wallowing in despair has pushed Mutsumi entirely over the edge, and now she’s likely stuck in permanent Mortis Mode, having banished her own personality for failing to please you. Though frankly, Mutsumi’s methods of conceptualizing her sense of isolation and lack of identity seem a little beyond Sakiko’s ability to resolve – like Sakiko herself, Mutsumi clearly needs someone who’s not attached to her musical aspirations, someone whose concern for her isn’t based in what they can get from her, to actually help her resolve this self-loathing. Of course, that swings us back to the parents who’ve only ever treated her as a fun interview accessory, and well… yeah, it’s a total mess. But hey, at least Nyamu is thriving! Please keep thriving, Nyamu. You are my only hope.
This article was made possible by reader support. Thank you all for all that you do.
