Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I come to you bearing melancholy tidings, for while I am thrilled to be returning to Skip and Loafer, I am sorry to admit that this is indeed the last episode of Skip and Loafer, at least until a sequel gets announced. Yes, today we must bid goodbye to Mitsumi and Shima, who’ve been such emphatically charming company as they navigate the gentle hurdles of adolescence.
Mitsumi arrived in Tokyo bearing enormous dreams of scholastic achievement and civil service, and so far I’d say she’s more than proven herself as a cosmopolitan big-city gal. Well, perhaps not exactly, but she’s certainly proven she doesn’t need to reinvent herself in order to find a comfortable home in the city. In fact, over the past six months, it’s largely been her own earnest, optimistic personality that has drawn others towards her, disarming the natural defenses of Makoto, Yuzuki, and even Mika through her courageous commitment to being herself. Her example has even led a boy as scarred by past sincerity as Shima to believe he could earnestly pursue his passions – and with both his family and old flame gathered at the festival, it is clearly time to put that faith to the test. Let’s get to it!
Episode 12
We open on a pair of dramatic portrait shots, capturing Shima’s mother and Ririka fully in frame as they face each other. It’s a visual punchline two episodes in the making – all through the last episode, the storyboards took care to cut around Shima’s mother, maintaining her as a known but never clarified presence at the school. Now there is no hiding for either of them, from each other or from the audience
Just beside them, Mitsumi is reflecting that Ririka is so damn glamorous she actually draws Mitsumi back to that initial dazzlement at how stylish everyone in Tokyo seemed to be. Now this is a cosmopolitan lady
Mitsumi is swiftly overwhelmed by Ririka’s hostile aura. Mitsumi is a small and furtive creature, not equipped to handle a stalking predator like Ririka
Ririka responds to the polite greeting of Shima’s mom with a “what are you doing here, old woman?” Feels all the harder to blame her troubles on Shima’s actions, considering basically three minutes in her presence would be enough to convince anyone she’s the devil
“Are you making Sousuke act for you again?” Ah, now this is interesting. Ririka is actually acting defensively for what she believes is Shima’s sake, having chosen to see his mother as responsible for Shima’s trauma regarding performance. Presumably each of them has come to peace with the situation by assigning the core blame for what happened to the other
Our post-OP cut to Shima cheekily connects to the cold open through an illustration of an anteater standing upright to make it appear more intimidating, echoing the animalistic threat Mitsumi was just cowering away from
Shima’s bonding with his brother is going smoothly; like many of the fears we build up as impossible hurdles, just a little bravery and communication has proven sufficient to overcome the barrier between them
Shima’s mother and Ririka show up just after a group of his middle school friends, ensuring maximum publicity for their confrontation
“I, uh, acted in a couple things when I was a kid.” Even with his partition breaking, Shima works to downplay the extent of his childhood acting
A quiet look of resignation as his smile fades, and he silently says goodbye to his untroubled high school life
Apparently scared off by Ririka’s condemnation, Shima’s mother says she forgot something, and that she has to leave. Ririka makes a look of unbridled satisfaction, and Mitsumi starts to realize she is intentionally manufacturing all of this – revealing Shima’s secret, and forcing his mom to leave. If he’s going to try and move beyond his past, she’s going to draw it to the surface and trample all over his new life
In spite of her anxiety and uncertainty regarding the details of the situation, Mitsumi literally steps in to block Ririka from further harassing Shima, taking on that friggin’ anteater defensive posture. She is very much the opposite of Shima – while Shima considers ten courses of action before actually acting on anything, Mitsumi frequently discovers her passions have called her to action before her mind can even explain them. Thus Mitsumi finds herself in a sort of basketball defender’s stance before her mind catches up, and she scrambles to explain her body language as “ushering Ririka towards the ticket stand”
Shima is delighted to see Mitsumi “doing the anteater”
Chris explains the full context of what Ririka did, helpful as always
Mitsumi reflects that she can’t match the time Shima has spent with his childhood friends, but she can commit herself to catching up with them in the future
A shot panning down across the play’s crowd demonstrates how good Ririka is at sinking into the background, obscuring herself completely beneath her hat
“When I sing, I can forget all the pain.” To the heroine of their play, performance is actually an escape, not a reminder of the disappointments in her life. Shima looks enviously outward from backstage
“So can I act as long as it’s for myself?” If claiming to act for others is only interpreted as an imposition, is it actually more “honorable” to act purely for your own satisfaction? Shima cannot relate to the assumptions others have placed on his desire or lack of desire to perform
“If you asked me to list my favorite foods, I couldn’t respond right away. But I know exactly what people expect from me.” He’s gotten so used to performing a desired self that he’s lost touch with his own unmediated desires
“Everyone’s happier when I give them what they want. It’s easier for me, too.” A mixture of aiming to please and cultivating low expectations, the way he’s gotten by since entering high school
“Is Mitsumi’s desire to protect her town really that different from me? Is having a goal really that great? Does it never feel like a curse?” Mitsumi’s example has made it much more challenging for him to retreat into what is most convenient
“Is it because I’m so anxious that I feel attacked when I see people who are passionate about something?” An ungenerous yet very sympathetic, understandable instinct. The passion of others can make us feel like there is something wrong with us, and that fosters a sense of resentment – it’s precisely why he has such a hard time with Kanechika
“Was I relieved when Mom left? Did I want her to watch? Why do I not know myself?” You’re a mess, Shima! You’re so unused to embracing selfish desires, so accustomed to moderating your behavior based on the desires of your audience, that you have trained yourself not to really want anything anymore
But through this questioning process, he is coming to recall feelings entirely his own – his enjoyment of Kanechika’s play, his desire to speak with him about performance after the show
“You’ll never be one of them,” prompts his scene partner, unintentionally stabbing directly at Shima’s anxieties. Can Shima truly commit to his passion like Kanechika or Mitsumi, or is he just simply not that kind of person?
A crack of light reaches his face backstage, like an invitation, a narrow passage back to engagement with the world
Shima chases after Ririka after the performance, and at last declares his separation from her philosophy. He’s willing to do anything he can to help her, but he can’t just languish in shame anymore. He’s enjoying his school life, and he’s not ashamed to say so.
“All I heard was ‘forgive me, I want to be happy.’ As if you’re allowed to ask for that.” It’s obviously tough given their childhood bond, but Ririka seems to have become the kind of person he simply has to cut out of his life for his own well-being
“Narcissists! Both you and your mom!” Ririka’s favorite insult, a symptom of her constant projection
Only on the ride home does Ririka actually let her guard down, bawling as she admits to her jealousy at Shima seeming so comfortable with his new friends, yet entirely on edge with her
She’s simply jealous that Shima bounced back more successfully than she did, and even Chris isn’t willing to leave her sob story uncontested
As the festival ends, council president Kazakami once again proves himself an excellent public speaker, demonstrating again why he’s actually pretty well-positioned for this job
He runs into Takamine bawling by the back entrance, and apologizes for getting in the way of her dreams
Ooh, love these incidental environmental shots as everyone cleans up after the festival. Feels very KyoAni-like, emphasizing the texture of this environment in this precise moment, the rich atmosphere of their personal world
And as the girls discuss a future sleepover, Mika shows real enthusiasm, having gotten over her fears from last time
As Mitsumi rushes off to a student council meeting, Shima offers to help out. He smiles brightly, no longer ashamed of putting his heart into these incidental trials of high school
The layouts frame Mitsumi’s departure as a reprise of their earlier, pre-summer break departure, when Shima felt Mitsumi was impossibly distant from him. But there is no shame this time, no self-recrimination – just an earnest delight at the thought of seeing his closest companion again tomorrow
And Done
What a delightful production! And also a perfectly reasonable season conclusion – obviously not a definitive ending or anything, but absolutely a key turning point for Shima, who at last seems unapologetically willing to embrace the pleasures of his high school life. His confrontation with Ririka did a fine job of pushing him forward while respecting the massive divide in their perspectives, and I quite liked how the twin performances of this festival served to both challenge and thematically echo Shima’s relationship with both professional and social performance. A graceful arc break in a story that has consistently demonstrated how light and warm-hearted drama can be insightful, enriching, and an extremely pleasant time. I look forward to seeing our delightful pair again soon!
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