Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am happy to announce we’re returning to the oft-tormented drama of Ave Mujica, as Sakiko and her companions seek community and happiness through the ritual self-flagellation of teen rock bands. Having shattered CRYCHIC and been shown up by MyGO, Sakiko thought to find vindication through Ave Mujica, a melodramatic reimagining of her torment as performance and occult ritual. But casting herself as a doll trapped in a nightmare did little to alleviate her pain; ultimately, Ave Mujica only succeeded in isolating her friend Mutsumi, whose eagerness to please led her to reject even her own personality.
Fortunately, the girls of MyGO were there to bear witness to all this insanity, and eventually lend a helping hand. MyGO’s rescue operation over the last few episodes has served as a charming vindication of their efforts across the first season, as the kindness and urge to connect embodied by Anon and Tomori has been echoed through the growth of Soyo and Taki, each of whom now have the strength to not just forgive, but actively embrace Sakiko and Mutsumi. Thanks to the sanctuary they found in MyGO, they were able to pull CRYCHIC’s remaining members back from isolation and self-hatred, and give the band they all loved a tearful, cathartic sendoff.
Of course, all this growth for the former CRYCHIC members leaves Mujica’s remaining bandmates out in the cold, a situation that has at last pushed Umiri out of her imperious, seemingly indifferent poise. It seems interesting to me that it was not the dissolution of Mujica, but reunion of CRYCHIC that truly offended her; given her prior annoyance at being framed as unfeeling, I’m guessing we’re due for some revelations regarding just how Umiri expresses her carefully guarded emotions. Also Nyamu! CRYCHIC getting closure was great, but their adventures left distressingly little room for Nyamu shenanigans. Let’s see how the rest of Ave Mujica are faring as the next act begins!
Episode 8
Our title is “Belua multorum es capitum,” or “the beast with many heads,” generally referring to the crowd or public opinion. A title that most likely refers to Ave Mujica’s voracious audience, though it could also be applied to the diverse, contradictory motives of Ave Mujica itself
We open with Umiri deep in the Sunken Place, reminiscing on memories of Sakiko as she floats through a painless sea
Ah, this is actually Mortis. Upon seeing how happy Mutsumi looks during the reunion with CRYCHIC, she resolves to let herself fade into non-existence – until Umiri extends the lifeline of a potential Ave Mujica reunion, prompting her to admit to her own desperation to survive
Mortis certainly has a thankless role in all of this. Constructed out of patchwork affectation-fragments in order to protect Mutsumi, but doomed to be seen as no more than a symptom of Mutsumi’s unhappiness. Raana’s the only one who sees her as a legitimate person, and even a friend
“CRYCHIC, huh? You really showed off in front of me.” This level of passive aggression from Umiri is basically her version of screaming in Taki’s face. That rehearsal really got to her!
Taki reveals that her earlier question of “were you even in Ave Mujica” was also directed at herself – she was never a leader or core member of CRYCHIC, so she could only watch as things collapsed. Taki’s clearly grown as much as anyone, and is much more capable of both recognizing her own feelings and willingly sharing them with others. A huge improvement from her “there’s no emotion I can’t solve with my FIST” starting position
Umiri is relieved to hear CRYCHIC isn’t reforming, but frames that as “I don’t think Togawa-san and Wakaba-san are capable of playing in multiple bands.” Rejecting her own investment in Ave Mujica while simultaneously declaring her certainty that the band will indeed reform – she is much more like Taki used to be, assuming her intention and then walking straight into a wall if necessary in pursuit of it
Her words also admit to her own weakness, a quiet acknowledgment that she doesn’t commit to bands emotionally the same way her bandmates do – or at least, that’s how she sees herself
“Of course you’d get dumped. After all, Umiri, you’re just too untrustworthy.” As someone who bottled up her own emotions, Taki can understand why Umiri’s bandmates wouldn’t see her as someone they can share their true feelings with, someone committed to carrying the weight of their burdens
Meanwhile, Sakiko and Mutsumi are making up for lost time, hanging out and catching up on schoolwork. We haven’t seen this side of Sakiko since Tomori’s memories of CRYCHIC – she is at peace, embracing her high-class upbringing without guilt or resentment
Sakiko even brings her for a walk, and they head to the karaoke place they once visited as CRYCHIC. Oh god, this is all too healthy and productive, when’s the other shoe gonna drop
Mutsumi stating her desire to play as CRYCHIC again drives Mortis to the surface, determined not to rehash this argument. But Sakiko actually thanks Mortis for letting them play previously
“Mutsumi doesn’t understand anything. You have to explain to her that CRYCHIC has already disbanded.” Mortis isn’t wrong, even if her motives aren’t exactly pure either
“Mutsumi-chan has never existed from the beginning.” Basically true. You can’t make a clean divide between Mutsumi and Mortis – Mortis is just a method Mutsumi found for abstracting the feelings she felt too shared or ashamed to express. Sakiko coveting Mutsumi specifically is just her validating the meek, unassuming persona that Mutsumi settled on in order to survive; if she wants to truly help her friend, she must help her accept her Mortis-side instincts as well, and embrace the collective whole
Meanwhile, Nyamu bumps into Mutsumi’s mother Mori at the agency
God, Mori’s smile is so forced! You can see the strain as she chastises Nyamu for not taking advantage of her recommendation and claiming the play role
“Mutsumi-chan… is a born actress.” Mori is intimidated by her own daughter’s potential. She doesn’t even seem to recognize her as her daughter, just as a potential professional rival – she has embraced the artifice of showbiz entirely, leaving no authentic emotions to share with her daughter
“Mutsumi-chan and I are both just one of many roles,” Mortis explains. So she’s the beast with many heads, at least in Mortis’ and Mori’s eyes
Mutsumi is an innocent, accommodating doll. Mortis is the social, lovable daughter of a popular actress
It was only when Mutsumi found the guitar that things changed – that “Mutsumi-chan” found a fragment of identity all her own, something that defined her beyond the desires of her current audience. At that point, she wanted to become a full person, not just a mask among many
“Being around that child all the time makes me feel miserable.” God, Mori is so awful! She claims Mutsumi learned how to act all on her own, but it’s abundantly clear that acting was Mutsumi’s response to growing up in a home without love, doing whatever she can to please a mother who seems fundamentally incapable of caring about others. Even now, Mori refuses to acknowledge what Mutsumi reveals about her own identity, the mirror her daughter holds up to her own vacuous, self-absorbed persona
“You must understand, right?” And like many monsters, Mori assumes everyone else is just like her – that we’re all acting and secretly self-absorbed, it’s just that some people are better at hiding it than others. Those who are incapable of empathy naturally assume not that they are defective, but that empathy is a ruse
“If just being in the same band with her made you run, I’m sorry, but you’re not fit for this industry.” Such people also cling to the law of the jungle as the only moral rule, embracing a world where might makes right because they have no attachment to anything but their own success. A deficiency of empathy is the cornerstone of a libertarian philosophy – those who divide the world into suckers and scammers are attempting to turn their deficiencies as moral actors into their own moral philosophy
“You weren’t even in CRYCHIC. What do you know?” Mutsumi actively fighting back against Mortis, now that her hopes have been inflamed by that CRYCHIC reunion
“I’ve been playing the role of taking on all the unhappy things for you!” It is certainly an unfair arrangement; Mortis takes all of Mutsumi’s burdens, and then is discarded when she’s no longer needed
God, this held shot of Sakiko’s tears as Mutsumi devours herself. Alright, might still have some work to do here
Meanwhile, Umiri is attempting to fill the void that Taki unwittingly pointed out through a combination of aborted songwriting and enthusiastic chocolate binging
Umiri used to take pride in her independence, valuing her ability to, as she says, “live without bothering my parents.” Now that pride has been flipped on its head, and she realizes she’s only impervious to harm because she isn’t actually close to anyone
She leaves her bass with Taki as she goes binge shopping, a one-two punch of first demonstrating how the bass means far less to her than the guitar does to Mutsumi, then revealing the unfortunate methods she has adopted for finding meaning of her own
“A Nyamuchi collab. What a sellout.” Of course Umiri clings to her pride as an “authentic” musician – what else does she have? Nyamu plays to further her career, the CRYCHIC girls play to express themselves or find community, but Umiri has no further motivation for her playing beyond the performance itself
Nyamu is drawn from a discussion with her agent by Umiri’s phone call. A key shift for Nyamu here – she’d normally prioritize her career over everything, but after talking to Mori and learning what a “true professional” is actually like, she’s presumably feeling more compelled to maintain her connections to the Ave Mujica girls, to be known as a person rather than a product. Mori might have actually been right – if you need to become that sort of monster to thrive in showbiz, perhaps there are more important things than bolstering your follower count
Oh my god, this composition of Umiri with stress-shopping wings. This show never takes its poor heroines too seriously
“You were a sellout.” “Thank you so much for the purchase.” I don’t think we’ve ever seen these two communicate directly, and it is as delightful as expected. The two professionals, coming at this band from opposite ends of the industry, possessing both mutual contempt and begrudging respect
“Umiko, have you changed? You never tried to take responsibility before.” Her lack of attachment was a powerful defense mechanism, but it left her isolated, trusted by no one. Committing yourself physically and emotionally is harder, but it’s the only way to build things that will last
“An old wound of mine hurts.” “Just from a mere glass of ginger soda?” Umiri tries to play it cool, but she’s nearly as chuuni as Sakiko in her own way
“I’ve got a painful backstory I can’t get through without drinking.” “Is it gonna be long?” Love you, Nyamu
Apparently she cared too much about her first band, and they betrayed her. Nyamu treats these revelations with all the respect they deserve, examining her nails as she mutters sympathetic noises
Nyamu says to contact her when Muuko’s on board. Rather than hating Mutsumi for her talent like her mother, Nyamu is actually fascinated by her, and wants to get closer. A true artist’s sentiment – wanting to be closer to those who inspire you, rather than simply hating them as competition. Nyamu is less cynical than she’d like to believe
Umiri next meets with Mutsumi, who is clearly being piloted by Mortis at the moment. I’m not sure Mutsumi-chan and Umiri have ever shared a word of dialogue
Umiri promises to teach Mortis guitar, and thus make her someone real – a hope all of Ave Mujica are striving towards in their own ways
And Done
Alright, I think that’s actually some positive progress! Sakiko at least is doing much better than before, and with her encouragement, it seems like Mutsumi-chan and Mortis are reaching towards more productive coexistence as well. To simply destroy the Mortis-side aspects of Mutsumi would leave her as half a person; only synthesis can resolve her, and that will demand being valued for both of her personas. Meanwhile, this episode did a graceful job of illustrating the hunger driving both Umiri and Nyamu, as each of them discovered in the fallout of Ave Mujica that their former band was offering something they hadn’t expected, something they’re now desperate to reclaim. Nyamu now wants to be a genuine artist, not just a showman, while Umiri is ready to be relied on as she swore she never would again. The stage is nearly set for an Ave Mujica reunion – now we just need Uika to dive in with an emotional folding chair, and somehow fuck everything up all over again!
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