Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re returning to the sumptuous nightmare that is Ave Mujica, as Sakiko and her companions seek love and validation in all the worst possible places. When last we’d left off, a reunion performance by CRYCHIC had threatened to actually improve our characters’ mental health, allowing them to venerate and say goodbye to their past passions while charting a new way forward. Well, we clearly couldn’t have that, so Umiri swiftly suggested a reunion for Ave Mujica as well, having recently developed a taste for meaningful, mutually fulfilling group performance.
Umiri picked a heck of a time to propose this plan, and perhaps the least likely group to propose it for; even with her alleged thirty bands, I imagine the least healthy among them is still in better shape than Ave Mujica. Her words sparked a hope of survival in Mortis, who frankly also deserves better than all of this nonsense, and thus we are again off to the races, with Umiri promising to teach Mortis the guitar and make her “real” in the process. And while Umiri’s “dark side” turned out to be no more than the yearning for connection that defines all of these girls, we’ve still got an Uika-shaped time bomb ticking away, undoubtedly prepped to explode into a fresh field of psychological shrapnel. Let’s see who snaps first as we return to Ave Mujica!
Episode 9
Our episode title is “Ne vivam si abis,” which translates to “I will die if you leave.” A line that applies most directly to Mortis, who actually seemed on the verge of self-destruction last episode, but which frankly applies to a great number of other bonds in this deeply unhealthy, wildly codependent band polycule
We start with Uika and Mana, the continuing dissolution of their bond portrayed through the harsh contrast between Mana’s carefree description of her recent professional activities and Uika bitterly scrolling on her phone, seeking more information regarding the villains that have apparently stolen Sakiko away from her
Oh my god, Anon’s social media account actually advertises her as ANON TOKYO, her initial proposed name for MyGO. Love how even when she’s not here, Anon’s personality adds some levity to this grim procession
“On the stage where the curtain has fallen, the puppets continue to dance.” Clever use of this transition from the external highway to the tunnel – the scene goes red-tinted and almost sepia as they enter, the scenery echoing Uika’s preoccupation
Mortis holds the reins in Mutsumi’s mind, replaying her doppelganger’s guitar parts again and again. A wild transition – while Mortis and Mutsumi-chan were once collaborators, two masks with which Mutsumi faced the world, they are now squabbling over who gets to sit in the last chair, Mortis training herself to be a convincing Mutsumi-chan replacement
“If Mutsumi-chan is going to play Ave Mujica, she can have it back.” And of course, the guitar is the totem, the tangible icon of the identity they are fighting to claim
“I want to bring back CRYCHIC.” “So, do you mean I should disappear?” That is indeed the implication. Mutsumi-chan’s motivations are so distant from Mortis’ that neither of them can at this point imagine synthesis – they see each other not as complementary, but as competing visions of who Mutsumi should be, exemplified through their pursuit of Ave Mujica versus CRYCHIC
Meanwhile, Sakiko sits in silence before her moonlit piano, as you do
“The days Mutsumi has suffered as a broken self will carry on.” Continuing Ave Mujica might please Mortis, but it won’t bring Mutsumi back together. Is there any solution that would actually integrate her identities?
Sakiko is told that Mutsumi is too busy playing guitar to see her, and assumes this means Mutsumi-chan is practicing for CRYCHIC. It seems Mortis has a new plan: rather than simply deny access to Mutsumi-chan, she’ll pretend that she is Mutsumi-chan, and that nothing is wrong
Sakiko asks Tomori to reunite CRYCHIC once again. Blunt as always, Anon cannot help but point out that it’s already the afternoon, how did you just get to school
“I didn’t reach out to Mutsumi, and took advantage of her with Ave Mujica.” Very much fits the torment nexus that is Ave Mujica that even when Sakiko is acknowledging her mistakes and attempting to make good, it’s in service of a doomed quest based on a total misunderstanding. And of course, we in the audience don’t even get to enjoy that same hope, aware as we are of the situation’s dramatic irony
“How’s everyone leaving me on read!?” A quintessential Anon experience. I was curious how this season would replace Anon’s necessary tonal balancing in MyGO, and it turns out the answer is “Anon just does it again”
Uika texts Anon out of the blue, who goes to meet her in her Clark Kent glasses disguise
Anon is just delighted to be trying a new coffee place and hanging out with the famous Uika. An improbable ray of sunshine in this musical mausoleum
Hoo boy. Uika learns about the CRYCHIC reunion plans and makes The Worst Face in response. They actually have to move beyond this show’s normal CG models, adding a bunch of individual fatigue lines beneath her eyes to emphasize how hollowed she feels by this information
Meanwhile, Nyamu is freezing up and failing auditions, still haunted by Mutsumi’s performances. Girl, you’ve got a loving family, you really don’t want to be Mutsumi
And then we’ve got Umiri blowing up Nyamu’s phone with demands to come practice. Everything’s going so well!
“How are you doing these days?” “I’m doing my best, as you suggested.” As with her binge shopping, Umiri’s feelings are never expressed through her face or words, only through her actions. It’s becoming easier to see why Ave Mujica actually meant something to her – this project of masks and personal revelation actually did speak to her feelings, even if she’d never admit it
Uika’s manager refuses to greenlight Ave Mujica’s return, saying its decommissioning came “from the top.” Given the only figure with that level of power we know is Sakiko’s grandfather, I guess that explains both how Ave Mujica initially earned its big public rollout and also why it cannot be reformed
Regardless, Uika refuses to accept this, and scavenges across the offices for the band’s old costumes. They may no longer be the heavily publicized headliners of an entire media operation, but they can still play as a band
“I liked it yesterday, but got bored of it today.” So Nyamu becomes painfully acquainted with the fickle nature of social media fame. Audiences crave both novelty and reliability, endless diversion but also perpetual availability, an inherent contradiction which means those who rise to the top are generally those who are capable of being anything to anyone, but most importantly those who are constantly producing new content. The internet does not care that Nyamu is uncertain of her professional path, and too dispirited to evoke the carefree Nyamu-chan persona that she used to build her audience. That persona is Nyamu to them, and if they can’t have it, they will swiftly grow disinterested in the face behind the curtain
Umiri stops by, noting “it’s clean only here.” Nyamu only cares to tidy the portion of her room that’s revealed in her streams – that too is part of her facade, a performance she carries on even within her own home
“I still can’t trust you after all, Umiko.” Which of course prompts a look of horror from Umiri. While most have interpreted her straight-faced professionalism as “reliable” or “comforting,” Nyamu pokes her greatest insecurity, implying anyone so well-defended cannot truly be trusted. It gets to Umiri because it’s true; she stays professional to avoid being hurt, floating above band disagreements by never caring if one or another band actually survives. But now she wants the real thing, and after years of concealing her feelings, being earnest with Nyamu is causing some growing pains
“I’m not masochistic like you!” Of course, Nyamu is basically the worst person to be sharing this emotional journey with. She is perfectly content with her own emotional life, and actually craves professionalism; plus, Ave Mujica is basically now her albatross, the point where she saw her limits and stumbled off the path she’d been so doggedly pursuing
On top of that, Nyamu is actually right to distrust Umiri – it’s not like “I’m training Mortis to fake being Mutsumi-chan well enough to trick Sakiko back into the band” is the kind of explanation that would inspire confidence in this project
Mutsumi wanders over to Tomori’s place. “Do you want to see the stars together?”
They run into Uika as she’s leaving the planetarium. Like in the first season, it seems to be one of her sanctuaries, a place she goes to when she’s on the verge of a big decision
Just as Umiri’s desire to revive Ave Mujica pulled Mortis back, so does Uika revealing Sakiko’s intentions to revive CRYCHIC restore Mutsumi-chan’s hope
And though she doesn’t mean to be so harsh, Mutsumi ends up validating Uika’s worst fears – that CRYCHIC was the group Sakiko truly cared about, and Ave Mujica essentially just a misguided rebound. Uika can never mean as much to Sakiko as the members of her first group
“Don’t take Saki-chan away from me!” Uika imagines herself flinging Mutsumi down the stairs. Like many of them, she’s set a high fence around what she sees as the undesirable aspects of herself, but the walls are crumbling as her faith in the overall persona diminishes
Mutsumi-chan and Mortis squabble over the guitar in Mutsumi’s Mind Palace. Just another day at the unwellness factory
Mutsumi-chan plummets into the sunken place as an audience of Mutsumis clap and cheer. What is Mortis without Mutsumi-chan? What if Sakiko finds out?
Sakiko frames Mortis’ actions in the worst possible light, saying that she wants to keep Mutsumi-chan suffering to prolong her own existence. Not technically true, but given Mortis just accidentally shoved Mutsumi-chan off a psychological balcony, I can’t imagine she’s up to defending herself right now
“If Mutsumi-chan isn’t here, I’ll play her role.” In perfectly agonizing Ave Mujica fashion, it is Sakiko’s declaring that she will only act for Mutsumi-chan’s sake that convinces Mortis to take over the performance of Mutsumi-chan. The game of musical chairs continues
“I have quit all the bands I was performing in. Am I still not trustworthy?” I can see how Umiri would possess genuine sympathy for Mortis; they both use agreeable but distancing masks to interface with society at large, and they’re both desperate to be understood as sensitive, legitimate people in spite of that. Is extravagant, confessional theater in the style of Sakiko or Tomori the only acceptable way to feel and express your emotions?
Mortis then makes her play, pretending to be Mutsumi-chan as she graciously speaks in favor of Ave Mujica
Hah, I was just thinking “I wonder what Raana would make of this play” when she actually pops into view, apparently having been enjoying a parfait this entire time. “Suddenly Raana was there” is an excellent recurring gag
Then Nyamu pops in to conclude the episode with an Asuka “disgusting” face. I don’t know why they’ve chosen to associate Nyamu with various iconic Evangelion expressions, but I’m all for it
Also serves as another dramatic contrasting of show analogues – Raana finds all these developments fascinating, while neo-Raana Nyamu can’t help but mock them
And Done
HahaHA, what a fantastic mess! It seems we’ve dragged ourselves beyond the solitary moping stage of the drama, and now our girls are back at each other’s throats, determined to either kill one another or perhaps make a band or something. Basically everyone is now in this for the wrong reasons – Sakiko to protect a Mutsumi-chan who’s already disappeared, Mortis to stay alive by pretending to be Mutsumi-chan, Uika to stake an unreciprocated claim on Sakiko, Umiri to foster a genuine emotional connection with the least emotionally available bandmates ever, and Nyamu to cling to the last embers of her fame, all while taking notes on acting from a girl undergoing an active psychological break. It’s an absolute disaster for all involved, and I wouldn’t have it any other way; while MyGO raised into embodying a shared moment of solidarity and confession, Ave Mujica has splintered into a half-dozen incomparable facades, each participant desperate for something wholly incompatible with the dreams of their bandmates. This will either result in a bloodbath or the second coming of Rumours; either way, we should get the tour van running!
This article was made possible by reader support. Thank you all for all that you do.
