2026 Spring Anime Three-Episode Check-In

By: Anime Feminist May 8, 20260 Comments
Aimi pulls a face while Nami laughs

Two of the team’s favorite series are receiving excellent adaptations this season, and there’s more solid shojosei on the docket—how could we not be happy?

The team split up the three-episode reviews between staff volunteers, with one person putting together a short(ish) review on each series. Like we do with our check-in podcasts, we started from the bottom of our Premiere Digest list and worked our way up.

If we didn’t watch a show for at least three episodes, we skipped it, and we’ve used nice bold headers to help you quickly jump to the shows you’re interested in. We’ve also excluded shows that are continuing on in basically the same vein as our premiere review to conserve space. Because this article is coming out later than the usual check-in, writers may mention details up to episode five.

We don’t have the time to keep up with everything, so please let us know about any gems we might be missing in the comments! And if you’d like us to cover every show, you can donate to our Ko-Fi and make that dream a reality!


“Staying the Course” Digest

We’re still enjoying and watching these shows. However, they’re not doing anything dramatically different in terms of themes, characters, etc., so there isn’t anything new to write about them. Please check out the premiere review for details:

  • Akane-Banashi: The animation flourishes have cooled off a bit, but it remains a loving adaptation of a great lady-led manga.
  • Daemons of the Shadow Realm: After an intense premiere, the pacing has slowed down enough to allow for some charm and humor in addition to the action and intrigue, making for a well-rounded adventure series.
  • MAO: New characters, same spooky supernatural energy and plucky protagonist.

K-Angel, a blonde idol in a pastel blue sailor school uniform strikes a pose during a concert

Needy Girl Overdose 

Spoilers: This review covers the first 5 episodes.

Chiaki: A number of folks have tapped out of Needy Girl Overdose, and we can understand why. The show started off waxing poetic on KAngel’s perception on fame and introducing Kache’s depressingly stagnant life, and the ensuing second episode keeps to that theme. And worse yet, the episode after that goes on to tell KAngel’s supposed origin story, showing a tragic young girl who was abused and neglected until the day she snapped, thus appending violence and bullying to the list of trigger warnings. Some have aptly described the episode as “misery porn.”

The problem with something like Needy Girl Overdose is that when you release it to the general public, it ultimately has to, and will be, evaluated for a general audience. No matter how much this show “gets me” so spot on, we ultimately recognize that this isn’t normal, and for a lot of people they will simply feel lectured to, or feel too uncomfortable to keep watching, and understandably so.

Keeping this check-in to three episodes, however, leaves this show at a disadvantage. Two incredibly dense preambles and a traumatically depressing and harsh third episode does not set an uplifting outlook for the show, yet the fourth and fifth episodes turns things around considerably.

The show empowers Kache and also introduces explicitly queer themes through the Karamazov streaming group, which tonally feels good. More and more it feels like KAngel is shaping up to be a villain whose toxic approach to fame is something to be avoided, or to be seen ironically, as she has managed to inspire these other women to do better all while being a horrifying mess herself. But there is no clear indication what the lesson will be at the end of the cour.

Will the cast find growth and success despite a toxic world, or will cynicism win out to prove no one is immune to poster’s madness? Either way, it will be a tricky landing to stick, and could easily become corny or needlessly cruel and exhausting.

Qifrey holding Coco

Witch Hat Atelier

Spoilers: This review covers the first 5 episodes.

Vrai: It’s so good when an incredible series receives an incredible adaptation made with love, creativity, and plenty of production lead time. This series has been a staff favorite for a long time, and we’re far enough into the anime to get a taste of why: it’s an amazing adventure series about young girls by a gifted female mangaka (marked as “seinen” because several of those magazines have become places to reach a generalized audience with minimal creative restrictions).

While the plot has mainly focused on Coco’s trauma up to this point, grieving over her mother and wrestling with guilt and alienation, there’s a sense that the atelier is full of misfits with their own burdens to bear. But more than that, these girls are all outsiders with something valuable to bring to the world of magic.

The magic system here draws (ah-hem) obvious parallels to the world of visual art, but so far the most fascinating part is how it explores styles of learning. Each of the girls has a different strength in relation to spellcasting, and each of those perspectives adds together to create something new that traditional approaches couldn’t have handled. It’s lovely, and I don’t think I’m spoiling too much to say that the series’ preoccupation with the limitations of learning, ability, and ableism continue to be major themes.

I also, as per usual, love to see women’s labor highlighted as a skill. In this case, Coco’s time learning how to cut fabric provides a boon to her when creating spells. It also serves as a lifeline back to her mother, which is fitting given that the definitely has as much to say about teaching as it does learning.

It’s also a solid watch for adolescents. The action might be intense for a really sensitive kid, but this is a series designed to navigate weighty concepts through its young protagonist’s eyes. At the same time, it’s thrilling and dark around the edges in a way that keeps the intrigue going for an older viewer, primarily through the lens of trying to figure out Qifrey’s whole (clearly messy) deal. If you have any taste for fantasy at all, this is a must-try.

Botan smiles and expresses utter joy at tasting Japanese sake.

Botan Kamiina Fully Blossoms When Drunk

Cy: Botan Kamiina is an interesting and very queer series: it’s pretty apparent from episode one and only increasingly becomes sapphic as things proceed. It’s also a show about connections and adulthood, and I think it being openly sapphic really highlights that. Of course, not everyone who blushes is crushing, but it does kind of reflect the experience–-and intensity—that my female friendships, when I identified as a girl, took on in my twenties, especially as we were growing and figuring it all out.

While this is overly a comedy, it’s a comedy less and more of an adult coming of age story that subverts the “liquid courage” notion by embracing the fact that for some people, enjoying a nightcap with friends allows them to continue to be who they are but without social fetters. And as someone who recently had their first drink since 2020, I appreciate that this series feels rather normal about alcohol and instead chooses to showcase a fly on the wall view about womanhood as well as being an unexpected deep dive into different types of Japanese and global alcohol available to experience. It’s much more in the vein of a queer version of the anime Wakakozake and definitely more on the level of The Food Diary of Miss Maid if we want a concurrent example.

And honestly, it’d be easy to say this is just staying the course but it’s actually got quite the feminist potential to demonstrate a refreshing view on adult queerness that lacks all the leering and harm of a lot of recent shows. While grounded in our world, I find that Botan’s experience of adulthood lacks replicated homophobia, at least so far: she’s just a girl and there’s other girls like her with crushes and tender first sapphic experiences, but there’s none of that “but I can’t like a girl!” nonsense. As a result, viewers get a very natural extension of one form of adulthood and for that, I think this series remains one of the best this season.

Hikaru comes to Mei's rescue during a sudden kidnapping.

MARRIAGETOXIN

Alex: Much like its assassin protagonist, Marriagetoxin is dodging a lot of bullets. It could be weird or fetishistic about Kinosaki’s gender non-conformity (or perhaps gender fluidity?), or conflate it with their(?) deceptive work as a con artist. But aside from the cliched “I’m a guy; here, I’ll prove it by offering to flash you my nude body” moment in the first episode, the show has presented Kinosaki and their genderqueerness without comment.

They’re also clearly a good criminal in the story’s moral metric, only preying on scummy rich people the same way Gero only agrees to kill the worst of the worst. Kinosaki makes a fun foil to Gero, with their interpersonal street smarts complementing his physical skills, and the oddly sincere wingman dynamic is really fun to watch. 

Likewise, Kinosaki’s “Operation White Knight” scheme—their plan to help Gero endear himself to women by rescuing them—could be obnoxious and manipulative. But so far it’s had refreshingly sweet results. Gero’s first prospective love interest is a cool art thief, and yes, she does need saving, but there’s enough character work around that to flesh her out and cement her as her own person outside of her role as damsel and wife candidate. I understand it’s setting up a formula where Gero’s going to meet a whole ensemble cast of women, but I hope we see more of her, and I hope each subsequent arc is just as fun.

The resolution to this first arc also has Gero throwing out the arbitrary rules of what he “should” say to woo a woman, and instead earnestly asking if she wants to be friends. I find myself increasingly endeared to the guy, and feeling more and more that Marriagetoxin overall has its heart in the right place. There’s plenty of room for it to wobble, but it’s setting up a solid foundation with which I’m pleasantly surprised.

Aimi stuffs her whole fist in her mouth while Nami looks on

Kirio Fan Club

Dee: This one is mostly staying the course from the premiere, but I did want to pop in for a couple noteworthy updates. First, Kirio is developing a personality as the girls spend actual time with him. He’s still not drawn with eyeballs, but at least he’s starting to feel like a person instead of an object. Second, while the series keeps hinting that everyone is keeping secrets from each other, the glimmers of queerness in the premiere have remained just that. So, don’t rev your yuri engines yet, gang.

In between the weird-girl antics and teen cringe comedy, there are bursts of melancholy or anxiety as the girls try to balance their friendship with their crush. Aimi is very obviously more infatuated with Kirio than Nami is (and it’s implied that Kirio likes Aimi back), but it’s all hints and subtext at this point without any clear indication of the long game.

I confess I didn’t like the first episode nearly as much as Vrai did, but the tense undercurrent combined with the character development is starting to win me over. I’m not sure where Kirio Fan Club is going (or if I can handle this much pure, undistilled fremdschämen for a full cour), but after 3 episodes I’m a lot more interested to find out.

Wakana, a new student, finds herself enraptured with an aria she hears being sung by a classmate.

A Hundred Scenes of AWAJIMA

Content warnings: Restrained depictions of bullying and verbal abuse.

Dee: Despite its theatre school setting, Awajima has spent very little time on acting or rehearsals. No, this series is much more interested in the hundred scenes happening around and outside of the school, particularly the fraught relationships between students and family members. Episodes 2-3 barely take place at Awajima, in fact, focusing instead on adults who graduated or dropped out decades ago. 

Told as a series of interconnected short stories, each vignette expands on the one that came before it, providing new insights and perspectives. Most of them thus far are quietly heartbreaking studies in disappointment and broken (if not outright toxic) relationships. It’s done with such restraint and distance that it’s almost relaxing—right up to the moment it crushes you under the characters’ decades of repressed regret or anger.

It’s poetic and thoughtful and nuanced and… man, I really should like this show more than I do, huh? I appreciate Awajima intellectually, but the combination of constantly shifting character perspectives, melancholy tone, and monologue-heavy script are making it difficult to find my footing and connect to it emotionally.

Don’t let me scare you away, though. Anyone who likes understated short stories and character studies—and doesn’t mind being kinda bummed out for 25 minutes—should absolutely give this series a try. It’s very well done; it’s just not quite clicking with me personally.

Nakamura awkwardly holding an octopus as it pats his face

Go For It, Nakamura-kun!!

Spoilers: This review covers the first 5 episodes.

Content warning: Implied threat of sexual violence; inappropriate student-teacher relationship.

Tony: I found Nakamura-kun’s first two episodes endearing, if a bit tiring. On the one hand, it’s thrilling to see the protagonist identify as a gay teenage boy, especially in a genre where it often feels like it’s forbidden to explicitly acknowledge one’s identity. Gay men exist in the real world, not some fantasyland without identities, communities, or labels, and it is lovely to see shows that understand that. However, Nakamura’s whole cringe shtick was starting to get difficult to watch, as he self-sabotaged over and over and over again.

Thankfully, the succeeding episodes have started to unpack how Nakamura came to be this way, and show how he can be loved for who he is, rather than having to change his fundamental nature. Nakamura has internalized the idea that many neurodivergent- or queer-coded parts of himself—such as his love of animals, his challenges with conversational turn-taking, and his enjoyment of BL—have to be extinguished or hidden in order to connect with people.

However, it becomes clear that Hirose finds those aspects of him extremely endearing, and those are the parts that allow the pair to connect on a meaningful level. Hirose wants to talk to him about BL, hear octopus fun facts, and exchange seemingly overlong stories about their sisters. Their burgeoning friendship is lovely, though I am curious if Hirose will ever stop being anything other than a perfect angel.

One of the best aspects of this adaptation is how it expands the cast around Nakamura. Their fujoshi classmate is accurate to many of the teenage girls I’ve taught, some of whom would write fan fiction of their classmates. The occult club leader’s shenanigans are delightful.

The relationship between Hirose and his teacher, however, feels at times creepy. His teacher makes comments that are clearly slightly flirty, and discusses with Hirose how he smoked after they exchange personal contact information. While I do not think this will go anywhere, it is worth flagging.

Sunao demands that Nao take her place and go to school for the day.

Even a Replica Can Fall in Love

Alex: I was curious if Even a Replica’s anime adaptation would alleviate some of the issues I had with the first volume of the manga, namely that I found the themes more interesting than the characters and relationships. Because those themes are really interesting. Selfhood! Autonomy! Identity! There’s a lot to chew on here, especially with the reveal that Nao’s love interest, now nicknamed Aki, is also a replica. Now this is a love story between two people who are finding their own humanity despite being dehumanized. Hard to argue with that as a pitch, right?

The gendered skew of their experiences as copies is interesting, too: Aki is deployed so that the boy he’s copied from can save face, appear stoic and unbothered by his bullying-induced injury, and ultimately get violent revenge on the bully himself. It makes a keen contrast to Nao, who takes a much more tender, caring role in maintaining Sunao’s life, carefully ferrying her to social and academic success. Maybe the narrative isn’t setting this up deliberately, but it seems noteworthy and relevant to the series’ exploration of how these mirror-people perform identity.

I still wish the execution was strong enough to bring all these Interesting Ideas home. A combination of stilted visuals and sometimes weak character writing mean that climactic emotional moments don’t quite land with the emphasis they ought to (they tried their best, but that basketball scene clearly wanted to have more oomph than it did), and subtle interpersonal ones are also left lacking. Everyone feels a little flat, a little abstract, embodying the series’ concepts more than being fleshed-out characters with a genuine sense of chemistry with each other. 

I hold out hope that everyone gets more depth as the series unfolds, but I also have no idea where it’s going to go from here. Somewhere dramatic, based on the cliffhanger that ends Episode 4! Fingers crossed Even a Replica can build a solid emotional foundation to support all its cool concepts. 

Mimi displays a passionate greeting.

Always a Catch!

Content warning (episode 4): A supporting character in his thirties flirting with the teenage protagonist (the show also thinks he’s gross, but it’s played more as comedy than horror).

Dee: Always a Catch has retained its bright energy from the premiere, but the story has swerved sharply. Turns out our “jerk prince” Renato is actually an awkward but well-meaning fella who blew up his engagement because he knew his fiancee and little brother were into each other. He and Mimi strike up a friendship that escalates quickly into a romance, and before you can say “brass knuckle hairpin,” they’re engaged to each other!

This sets the tone for the next couple episodes, as Mimi keeps meeting people she’s worried will hate her because she’s “unladylike,” only for the show to reveal that her honesty and martial skills are exactly why everyone loves her. It makes for a feel-good watch, but it does dampen the premiere’s social commentary somewhat. Right now I’d say this is more a show about “finding your people” rather than “revolutionizing the world.”

I can’t ding it too many points for that, though, because Mimi is such a delight and the show has such a silly sense of humor, reveling in absurd sight gags and surprise reveals. Mimi is going to need a little more help from the supporting cast and plotlines to keep Catch from running out of steam (by which I mean: spend more time with the teen comedy bully and less time with the 30-something comedy pervert, please), but so far I’m having a real fun time.

Editor’s Note: This article was edited after publication to include a check in for Botan Kamiina.

We Need Your Help!

We’re dedicated to paying our contributors and staff members fairly for their work—but we can’t do it alone.

You can become a patron for as little as $1 a month, and every single penny goes to the people and services that keep Anime Feminist running. Please help us pay more people to make great content!

Comments are open! Please read our comments policy before joining the conversation and contact us if you have any problems.