Jaku-Chara Tomozaki-kun – 06 – The Second-Tallest Mountain

Hinami has a bold idea for Tomozaki’s next assignment. While she was going to make him her own campaign manager for the StuCo presidential election, but with Mimimi throwing her hat in the ring, Hinami believes Tomozaki will get more out of being Mimimi’s manager. Hinami makes clear this isn’t meant to be a form of electoral sabotage: Mimimi is important to her. But she’s as confident that no one—not even Mimimi—can beat her.

Hinami’s attitude towards Tomozaki is basically “You’re not going to win, but give it your best shot”. The question is, is Hinami really this arrogant about the certainty of her victory, or is she quietly hoping Tomozaki will help Mimimi supplant her? Absent other information, I proceeded thinking the former: Hinami wants to win, and she’s not orchestrating her own exit from the spotlight.

Just as she has every right to believe victory is in the bag, Tomozaki has every right to doubt his ability to manage Mimimi’s campaign. Heck, when they almost collide in the hall and he earnestly asks her, she turns him down flat, justifiably questioning his reliability. While in the library, he gets extra context from Fuuka for why Mimimi is even going after Hinami’s throne: she wants to change things, and herself. So does Fuuka, though she adorably tells Tomozaki not to tell anyone!

The next morning outside of school, Tomozaki witnesses Mimimi campaigning beside her kohai and handpicked manager Yumi. He also spots Hinami working the crowd with her manager Mizusawa (the undertones of those two being a couple go uncommented upon). Hinami makes personal appeals to everyone around her, having memorized virtually all of their club affiliations.

Tomozaki sees how formidable a boss Hinami is, and how it’s probably for the best Mimimi chose someone else as her manager. But that changes when they almost collide in the hall again, and Tomozaki can immediately tell Mimimi needs help with her list of campaign promises. Not with the content, mind you: with the layout. He revises it in the lab and wins her over, but for her, it begs the question: why is he so dead set on helping her?

Tomozaki is ready with an answer she can relate to: The uber-powerful Hinami is simply an irresistible challenge to go up against; he wants to take her on and win. What he doesn’t tell Mimimi is that he’s not currently leveled up enough to go toe-to-toe with Hinami in the game of life—she’d mop the floor with him in any theoretical “battle”. But he could gain crucial life XP by “summoning” the top-tier character Mimimi as his “champion”.

Hinami may be imposing in her ability to amass and win hearts and minds, but as he follows her around the school, Tomozaki is reminded how Mimimi is no slouch in that department. Foregoing a full-on frontal assault for a rearguard action, Mimimi targets specific school groups and negotiates bargains in exchange for their votes.

It starts in the gym, where Mimimi can’t help but stuff her head inside Hanabi’s shirt, but she also makes an appeal to her senpai, promising an electric pump for all of the ball clubs. Later that afternoon, Tomozaki and Mimimi rest a spell in a park, where he notices her “totes adorbs” new haniwa (traditionally a funerary object), and she provides further context for her quixotic run at Hinami.

Mimimi starts out with a very effective quiz for Tomozaki: He’s able to immediately answer what is Japan’s tallest mountain or America’s first president, but in the case of naming number two, he doesn’t know. Mimimi does, because she’s perpetually been number two at school, both in academics and sports. She wants to move out of the second place shadows, to better validate all of her hard work and be recognized for it.

Later, Tomozaki asks Hanabi for some help sound checking the gym for Mimimi’s campaign speech. Despite being shirted by Mimimi earlier, Hanabi agrees without hesitation, because it’s for her friend Mimimi’s sake. She just asks Tomozaki to look out for Mimimi, who is an “overdoer” despite her claims to the contrary.

Mimimi and her “Brain” stay in constant contact via LINE (at which Tomozaki has gotten much better) while at school, Tomozaki has grown accustomed to Mimimi’s bubbly enthusiasm and it’s even rubbed off on him a bit, which amuses her to no end. He’s even learned to dodge her back-slapping! The two are well and truly on the same wavelength. Hinami spots the two from her perch on the upper level of the cafeteria, initially looking concerned, but then with a proud smile.

Their physical positions in this scene are instructive. Tomozaki and Mimimi are doing everything they can to win this thing from the lower ground, even though Hinami, by all indications, is sitting pretty atop the high ground, and still not even considering the possibility of an upset loss to Mimimi. But ultimately, only one candidate can win.

Questions abound: Will the result profoundly affect their friendships, and if so, how? If Mimimi loses, can she take solace in knowing she did her very best with Tomozaki by her side? Could their time together lead to them…dating? Would Hinami handle defeat with grace, or with an identity crisis? With its intricate and fast-evolving relationships, Bottom-Tier Tomozaki has infused new life and intrigue in the well-worn school election scenario, and I can’t wait for the returns!

Koi wa Ameagari no You ni – 11

When Haruka learns that a runner from another school fully recovered from the same injury Akira suffered to best her personal 100-meter time, and could threaten Akira’s tournament record, she redoubles her efforts to bring Akira back in the fold, even going so far as to follow her to her workplace.

Kondou sees that a girl from Akira’s school is a customer, and that can tell the conversation isn’t a pleasant one. Let’s get one thing straight: Haruka isn’t here to ask Akira what she wants or how she feels. Haruka is there to tell Akira what Haruka wants—and how sad she’ll be if she doesn’t get it.

She marches in there judging Akira’s choice to work an honest job rather than risk re-injuring herself, saying she’ll “always be waiting” for Akira to come around to wanting to run again, as if that’s the only acceptable path for her. Then she storms off without letting Akira so much as respond.

It’s frankly sickening to watch someone who purports to care about Akira only seem to be interested in what would make herself happy—not to mention shore up her track team. If their roles were reversed, I doubt Akira would treat her so awfully.

Thankfully we get a pleasant palate-cleanser in the form of Chihiro paying Kondou a surprise visit with a brand-new siphon coffee maker. Make no mistake: Chihiro isn’t there just for Kondou’s benefit, he came to ground himself with an old friend he still holds in high regard.

Kondou looks at Chihiro’s success in the same way Haruka looks at Akira’s records and talent—from the outside. The book being made into a movie is a “piece of shit” in Chihiro’s mind, and the more successful he gets, the more expectations mount (much as they did for Akira before her injury), and the more “shit” he feels he has to put out.

Rather than voice any disappointment, Chihiro actually lauds Kondou for living an honest life. Unlike Akira giving up running cold turkey, Kondou has always to maintain the obsession to write, even if it’s for nobody but himself, and even if he’s too excited to do the first one-minute novel in a long time.

Chihiro isn’t asking him to quit being a manager and start selling novels…but he urges Kondou not to give up that obsession, even if it’s not as big a part of his life as it was. Granted, Chihiro and Kondou are older and more matured by life experience, but the contrast between their equitable dynamic and Haruka’s totally unfair one-sided oppression of Akira couldn’t be starker.

Chihiro and Haruka, who are still fully in the respective games their friends left, have similar messages. I’ve always seen Akira as not giving up or running away from track, but simply moving on, while Kondou gives his old habit of late-night writing another go after Chihiro’s visit.

That same night, Akira takes out her cleats, suggesting as terribly as she expressed it, Haruka was right that Akira still yearns to run. But the next day when a customer forgets a phone and she can’t get it back to them without running, she doesn’t run this time, as the camera pulls in on her recently repaired Achilles. I can’t blame her, considering what happened the last time she did.

In the restaurant office, Akira sees that Kondou hasn’t filled out her shift schedule yet with her requested increased shifts, and when he asks her if there’s “anything else she wants to do” besides work there all the time, she should do that. This angers Akira, because it’s almost as if everyone’s ganging up on her…even the man she has feelings for.

The fact of the matter is, even if it’s objectively wrong for Akira to not even consider giving running another go, it’s her goddamn RIGHT to be wrong, no one else’s. Yes, she’s young, and her emotions on this matter are all over the place.

She might not be able to easily answer the question “do you want to run?” if asked because she’s so afraid of the possibility she just can’t do it anymore. Or maybe she really truly doesn’t want to run. In either case, it’s her choice to make. Haruka may have enough confidence in her for the both of them, but at the end of the day…it ain’t her Achilles.

Koi wa Ameagari no You ni – 10

Keeping Akira in a constant state of hot-and-botheredness was not sustainable, so I’m really enjoying how their relationship has evolved since The Hug. Akira exploits another opportunity to hang out with Masami as friends (a used book sale), and has no other designs other than to see him in a place where he feels at home, and learn a little more about him, and enjoy the nice weather. She’s not all that worried about whether it’s a date or not.

Masami happens to know one of the booksellers (he frequented his store back in the day) who of course assumes Akira is his daughter, but Akira is the one to correct him by calling them friends. The subject of two people knowing each other so well that they can communicate far more with fewer words, Akira resists the urge to call or text Masami when he wanders off into bookland.

Instead, she channels Victor Hugo by sending just a “?”. Since Masami just told her about the instance of Hugo and his publisher, she knows she can share a moment of knowing with Masami, which gives her no shortage of joy. No drama, no furiously burning flames of passion…just a nice day out together.

In another instance of sending a message with naught but a symbol, Akira eventually sends Haruka a signal she still cares by liking one of the track club posts…even if Akira herself seems to have moved past track, not wanting to undergo rehab to make a comeback.

Similarly, when Masami catches Chihiro on TV calling books and writing his “lover”, he can relate; it used to be his lover too, and he devoted nearly all his time to it, hurting his wife and son in the process. After going through some of his writings, he stuffs them back in the box and puts the box back on the shelf, not ready to chase the “one-sided love.”

The next day, Akira shows Masami the book she bought for herself at the sale, And Then by Soseki. It comes with a charming bookmark of a swallow holding a four-leaf clover, which reminds Masami of the swallow’s nest under the backdoor awning they had to get rid of because of the droppings.

Masami makes sure Akira understands they waited for all of the babies to leave the nest before doing so, which prompts Akira to ask what would have happened had one bird not made it from the nest; perhaps a metaphor for her being unable to join her trackmates, as well as Masami pondering giving writing up.

Masami replies that such a bird may still be able to find some happiness, and even forget about the others, but hopes that the bird wouldn’t regret giving up, lest it keep looking wistfully up at the sky, pondering what might have been.

He apologizes for rambling on, but Akira thanks him for his words, and wants to hear more of them, and perhaps one day read them as well. Akira is signalling to him that it’s okay to keep that dream of writing alive, that perhaps the forgiveness he so obviously seeks isn’t as out of reach as he thought.