Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we are returning to the enigmatic wanderings of Shoushimin Series, as Jogoro and Osanai continue in their renewed commitment to becoming ordinary. Having severed their connection in the wake of Osanai’s outrageous self-kidnapping gambit, they have each found new partners who seem to earnestly appreciate them, and who crucially do not enable their respective antisocial tendencies.
In fact, the two of them have seemingly become so ordinary that they’re no longer the protagonists of their own series. Season two has opened with a graceful flipping of perspective, centering on Osanai’s new boyfriend Urino and his efforts to uncover an alleged serial arson case around town. Through this reversal, Shoushimin Series is elegantly demonstrating the strength of Honobu Yonezawa’s character writing; though Jogoro and Osanai are certainly compelling characters, it’s just as interesting to explore this world from a new shoulder, with the appearances by our old leads lent all the more impact by their newfound rarity. And in director Mamoru Kanbe’s hands, it is already equally apparent what this new formulation is lacking – that spark of restless, relentless inquiry, the powerful unity of intellectual intent that was heretofore represented through the production’s consistent location-jumping visual flourishes. Richly articulated characters navigating a world whose physical and psychological contours have been realized through a distinct visual vocabulary – that’s essentially the core recipe for cinematic psychological drama, and it’s been extremely gratifying seeing season one’s visual language put to such novel and dramatic purposes. Let’s get back to the investigation!
Episode 12
Well, we certainly know the significance of this “A Warm Winter” title now, as a cheeky way to refer to the arsons
Alongside its playful visuals, I also like the more upbeat, less painfully earnest tone of this song. “Painfully earnest” worked very well for the first season, given the alleged seriousness with which the leads approached their pact. But we are all several people across adolescence, and learning to get along with that fact fits well with this song’s “hey, so it goes” tone
Jogoro calls Kengo from the fire, and we learn that Osanai was indeed asking Kengo to kill the story, and not write anything about the abductions in the newspaper. Her allegedly “perfect crime” is still causing major inconveniences for her unwitting accomplices
The moment we’re back with Jogoro, the show begins employing its spatial flourishes again, though in a minor way here – Jogoro just imagines Kengo as standing beside him during this conversation
Kengo was willing to put a hand on the scales for Osanai, but couldn’t deny Itsukaichi’s perfectly reasonable request for a January column. Doing his best to manage his loyalties here – and of course, he still only sees Osanai as a victim in the kidnapping
“I need to make some decisions if the newspaper club is about to be framed.” He’s an excellent leader – not assigning blame to anyone, just clarifying what needs to be done to protect the club and the people he’s responsible for
Osanai is a little impressed with Urino’s deduction of the next fire’s location, but says “once isn’t enough to know for sure.” Osanai might say she likes straightforward guys, but she’s clearly missing the circuitous intellectual games she used to play with Jogoro. And Urino notices this distance, that Osanai is more grading him than growing closer to him
“Sometimes, I think she’s joking about something, but I don’t get it.” A significant portion of Osanai’s behavior is not authentic self-expression, but self-conscious distribution of clues, little hints intended to lead her company to whatever conclusion she desires. This is how she entertains herself, and also how she flirts – and if you’re not on her wavelength, it will ensure a perpetual emotional distance from her
Urino notes they barely meet on the weekends, and that he would “feel bad about interrupting her private time.” A sharp contrast from the constant impositions Osanai would make on Jogoro, persistently being the one to drag him out into society
Hiya advises him to show some confidence, to clearly tell Osanai when he’d like to hang out with her. Hiya’s sort of directing Urino’s romantic and club life
Urino predicts another arson, hoping this will at last impress Osanai. Sadly, she is more wrapped up in the implied violence of breaking a crème brûlée’s crust. Of course she would like a desert that necessitates breaking and entering
“Sorry. I didn’t think you’d go this far.” Osanai’s praise is immediately tempered by her reflection that she didn’t have this much faith in him
Of course, in his efforts to impress Osanai, Urino is attracting significantly more attention – both from his classmates, and from the school authorities
“Don’t tell me you’re the ones who started the fires.” Kengo’s exact fears are coming to fruition – but of course, he accepted responsibility for this all the way back when he agreed to Urino’s proposal. He knew there’d be a danger of the newspaper club being seen as either a gossip rag or even a conspirator in the arsons, and he accepted his potential future role as protector of Urino and the newspaper’s reputation. He’s not just intelligent, he’s a genuinely honorable guy, which of course makes him somewhat exploitable for our leads
This teacher has nothing concrete, and Kengo knows it – but both of them also know that nothing concrete is required for this article series to negatively affect the school’s reputation. A delicate dance, but Kengo manages it by never being browbeat by these accusations into unnecessary concessions, and also by never letting Urino speak a damn word
It’s quite a fun changeup after the first season to now be situated on the shoulder of a significantly more ordinary student, who is largely being blown about by the force of the abnormal giants around him
“That got me pretty pissed off, too.” Even Kengo has his pride. He demands Urino detail his method of predicting the fires in the next issue, therefore not submitting to their teacher’s censorship, but still fulfilling his request to not write any more “baseless” speculation
Hiya laments their inability to spin the story out for more months of growing buzz, but Urino can appreciate how effectively Kengo both protected and enabled him
Hiya is clearly disappointed that Urino is unwilling to continue the story, even if it means disobeying both the school and his club president. His position is getting more suspect by the second
Hiya advises him to at least prepare a copy of the article that would continue the series, predicting a “big turnaround” that will likely enable him to keep writing. So is Hiya our arsonist, using Urino to raise his own profile? After all, there wasn’t actually a “serial arson case” in the first place until Hiya pulled those disparate articles together, showed them to Urino, and convinced him that there was more to the story
Blooming cherry blossoms carry us to the next scene, implying the beginning of spring – another month has passed, another article is due
Urino is once again meeting Osanai at one of her snack spots. The tethering of these meetings to the changing of the season seems to emphasize the distance between them, that their dates are as infrequent as Urino’s articles, and basically just formal progress reports
Urino even asks Osanai “you really like sweets, huh,” implying that obvious topic of conversation still hasn’t been raised between them
Nonetheless, Urino at last taking interest in Osanai’s hobby sparks a genuinely comfortable discussion
Osanai describes the process of making a specific sweetened chestnut treat, by applying layers of sugar around a chestnut that “was never that sweet in the first place.” Is this how she sees her process of becoming ordinary – that if she continuously submerges herself in company who embody normalcy, one day their flavor will be imparted on her as well?
“The public face switches places with true intentions. At some point, the means become the end.” Goddamnit Osanai, if you spell out the metaphor I don’t get to look clever explaining it
“And you are my syrup.” Yeap. She’s basically putting herself through forced immersion therapy here, hoping that if she hangs around with Urino for long enough, his mild sincerity will rub off on her
She leaves him with a note she says will become relevant, but also tells him “no more naughtiness.” She’s been enjoying watching his investigations, but if he just starts acting like Jogoro, that defeats the whole point of this relationship
Meanwhile, Jogoro is messing up a date with Nakamura by leaning on all his Osanai-indebted sweets shop expertise. He ultimately suggests they go back to his place, a choice that naturally implies “I am committed to pushing forward in this relationship with you”
“Do you like Japanese sweets?” “Yeah, I do.” Their conversations cannot escape the specter of Osanai, and Nakamura feels it acutely, her fraying faith in the relationship captured in this brief still shot staring right at the camera. With that thread already untangling, she begins to question Jogoro on why he agreed to go out with her in the first place
His answer is “you seemed like a good person up close,” an answer that doesn’t really say anything about Nakamura beyond “you seemed unlike Osanai.” Thus their relationship is again framed in the context of Osanai’s absence
In contrast, Nakamura’s answer is thoughtful and complex, reflecting a close examination of how he presented himself, how he related to his peers, and why he might have been in a relationship with Osanai. She sums it up as “you had a weird face,” but she was clearly intrigued by his behavior, and wanted to find out what made him tick
Uncomfortable with this level of intimacy, Jogoro attempts to change the subject to something that actually compels him: the fires around town. But Nakamura is smart enough to not let him get away with “you seemed like a good person”
We then conclude on our not-so-good person Osanai sitting on the very bus stop that was last set on fire
And Done
Well, I can’t deny they’re trying their best, but it is abundantly clear that these relationships are not making them any more ordinary. Urino and Nakamura both seem like perfectly charming people, but they cannot break their partners’ shells – and though Osanai here made explicit her desire to be redefined by proximity to Urino, it’s clear as well that she hasn’t actually changed, and is in fact keeping her new boyfriend at a significant emotional distance. But what are they supposed to do? If they were to share their true feelings, they’d be indulging in precisely the behaviors they’re trying to avoid – thus their partners’ desires for intimacy is the exact thing they cannot provide, desiring as they do to change their fundamental passions and thought processes. This situation seems painful for our leads and utterly unfair to their partners, and I am eager to see how it all burns to the ground!
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