It’s that time of year where the staff puts their heads together to pick the shows that made them think, imagined better futures, or provided a breath of fresh air during a hard year.
How did we choose our recs?
Participating staff members picked five titles and ranked them. The only rule was that the series or season had to be complete as of December 2024 or been on the air without a break for over a year. This meant that split-cours and ongoing shows that began in 2024 and are still airing (like DAN DA DAN) were NOT eligible. They’ll be rolled onto any 2025 lists. Films are covered in a separate best-of list, as they have much more variable availability and release schedules., and are not covered in our seasonal recommendation posts.
We always want to emphasize that our recommendations are not meant as a rubber-stamp of “Feminist Approval.” Rather, we aim to highlight shows we found valuable and think might appeal to our readers as well, with any content warnings or caveats that might apply.
How are they ranked?
They’re not, really. We’ve highlighted our “top picks” that received the most staff member votes, but otherwise they’re just organized alphabetically. The team has varying tastes, as do our readers, and we didn’t want to try to put those tastes in a hierarchy.
Hey, you didn’t list my favorite show!
That’s okay! Like we said, we limited ourselves to a Top Five, and everyone has different tastes. If there’s something that slipped under our radar and you think it’s a series other feminist-minded viewers would enjoy, please let us and your fellow readers know in the comments!
Best in Show
The Apothecary Diaries
Chosen by: Alex (#1), Caitlin (#1), Cy (#1), Dee (#1), Lizzie (#5), Peter (#2)
What’s it about? Maomao works as a pharmacist in the red light district until she’s kidnapped while collecting herbs and sold to the imperial harem as a servant. Maomao hopes to finish her term without being noticed, but it’s difficult to hide her intelligence when royal infants start mysteriously dying and she can’t resist letting the consorts know the cause.
Content warnings: discussions and depictions of illness and medical procedures; non-consensual sex work; forced pregnancy (for political marriage purposes); threats and discussion of sexual assault; infant death and miscarriage; a one-off joke about a horny courtesan going after kids; though it’s implied the emperor “doesn’t visit her” one of the concubines is 14 years old, something treated as normal by the setting but horrifying to the protagonist.
The Apothecary Diaries takes you on a journey of intrigue, poison, and politics in the twisting corridors of an imperial palace. Maomao is a fantastic lead: clever and prickly good with poisons but often bad with people, though always with her heart in the right place. The “pragmatic yet awkward genius detective” is a trope that’s more often reserved for male characters, and it’s fun to see Maomao step so confidently into that role—and also be her authentic gremlin self.
While Maomao is an unconventional female protagonist in a few ways, the narrative avoids framing her as being “not like other girls”—in fact, Maomao as a character, and the storytelling itself, clearly hold a lot of sympathy and interest for the various flawed and layered women that make up the broader cast. Each of these women is navigating the patriarchal system in which they exist in their own ways, some by being resilient and kind, some by scheming, and everything in between. Rarely does the narrative pigeonhole them in a binary of victims or villains, and it’s satisfying to watch.
The major sour note is the dynamic between Maomao and her superior Jinshi, who is set up to be her eventual love interest. A pretty-boy planted in the Rear Palace to test consort’s loyalty, Jinshi is baffled that Maomao not only isn’t attracted to him, but is deeply unimpressed by him, and sets out on a quest to seduce her at all costs. While this behavior of his gradually tapers off and the interpersonal relationship between them evens out a little as the series goes on, there’s no getting away from the uncomfortable power imbalance between them and all the times he was perfectly willing to weaponize it for the purposes of being a creep. I find Jinshi an interesting character and do kind of enjoy where his vibe with Maomao ends up, but the way his early oppressive flirting is played for laughs feels horribly out of step with the show’s otherwise nuanced portrayal of sexual power dynamics. While I do still wholeheartedly recommend this series, take this caveat—and the series’ many other content warnings—with you when you venture in.
—Alex
Runners-Up
Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede-Destruction
Chosen By: Lizzie (#3), Peter (#1), Tony (#1), Vrai (#1)
What’s it about? Kadode and Ouran are just two normal high school girls at the end of high school trying to decide what to do with their lives. They deal with the same things as everybody else–overbearing parents, existential ennui, and watching their friends get into too-fast relationships. However, there is one big difference: anytime they look up, they see a gigantic mothership flying overhead.
Content Warnings: fatphobia, student/teacher relationship (depicted as toxic); depictions of genocide, mass death, gun violence, gore, depression, suicide, body horror, war crimes and the military industrial complex, sexual harassment
It’s a daunting task to boil Dead Dead Demons’ appeal down to a few paragraphs after a full hour of discussion failed to completely encapsulate it. There, I compared the manga to Watchmen: an ensemble work in conversation both with mythic figures of pop culture and its political moment, complete with a thematically resonant throughline of in-text fiction. Elsewhere, I tried out, “what if PLUTO respected its female characters.” I stand by those comparisons, but they still don’t give a full picture.
Dead Dead Demons is a sci-fi story about the mundanity of living in a war zone and feeling powerless in the face of atrocities. It’s unsparing in its evisceration of U.S. colonialism, and equally unflinching in its assessment that Japan would jump at the chance to return to its imperialist leanings if given the chance. It’s hard not to feel your jaw drop as the camera pans from a “Cool Japan” billboard down to a government-funded AI drone, or when the weapons manufacturer hires an idol to do a glam makeover of that same weapon for PR. Though the manga started in 2014, it’s impossible not to see echoes of the Gazan genocide in its narrative.
That makes it sound intimidatingly heavy, and it can get quite dark, but at heart it’s an often very funny story about a group of teens growing up and figuring out how not just to survive but to live at the end of the world. While the manga is impressive in its scope, the smartest choice adaptive screenwriter Yoshida Reiko made was to anchor the adaptation to Kadode and Ouran above all else. They’re wonderfully weird and real-feeling teenage girls, flawed and impossible not to love even when you tear your hair out at their bad decisions, and their relationship (which isn’t just, but does eventually encompass, romance) is the story’s beating heart. The story exhibits a great deal of care for its female cast in general, including some gentle and lovely writing around transfemme countryside transplant Makoto.
If there’s a downside to the adaptation’s stronger focus, it’s that it requires some caveats in the viewing order. Episodes 1-16 tell a tight and satisfying narrative about their central heroines. Episode 0 (which takes place chronologically after Episode 16) and Episode 17, which more or less work in the manga given its more spread-out cast, feel extraneous at best and a detraction at worst for the anime, as they focus on wholly different characters—they’re best watched after the fact or skipped altogether. It also, if you’re so inclined, has a fantastic dub with a cast largely comprised of unknowns and actors who normally act in American cartoons, giving it a unique aural texture; and a script that isn’t afraid of judicious slang use when it’s appropriate to the time period (the late 2010s) in which the story takes place.
While its resonance with our current moment can’t (and shouldn’t) be denied, this is also just a damn fine work of art—one that got severely slept on between its awkward airing schedule, atypical art style, and total lack of marketing support. You’d be hard-pressed to find a recent show more actively interested in asking questions about activism, radicalization, and the world today.
—Vrai
Delicious in Dungeon
Chosen by: Caitlin (#2), Dee (#2), Lizzie (#1), Tony (#4), Vrai (#2)
Also Previously Recommended By: Alex
What’s it about? Ever since the dungeon appeared, intrepid adventurers have sought to find what lies on the bottom floor, facing countless dangers on the way. Usually, death simply means being retrieved and returned to the surface. The knight Laios’ party, however, find that Laios’ sister, Falin, couldn’t return due to being consumed by the vicious red dragon that felled them! The party resolves to return and save her before she’s fully digested, but with nothing but the gear on their backs, they don’t have enough money for provisions. Laios’ solution? Eating monsters!
Content warnings: Blood, body horror, (fantasy) animal death/corpse preparation, mild nudity (bathing scene, nonsexual), enslavement (backstory)
Dungeon is an absolute unicorn in the modern anime landscape: it’s a completed manga, created by a woman who’s extremely thoughtful about worldbuilding and pours an incredible amount of love and care into her depictions of female characters, that’s receiving a comfortably paced adaptation (48 episodes probably! Can you imagine?!) from a studio that’s dedicated to matching the thoughtfulness and consideration the source material deserves. I could, genuinely, cry.
That time changes the measure of so much. It’s easier to take Marcille being the stick-in-the-mud girl to her more adventurous male party members for the first few episodes when there’s a vibrant range of other women coming down the pipe in addition to Marcille’s own character growth; the very hobby show-esque framing of the first few episodes encourage you to breathe while you get to know the characters. This is a story about cycles, personal and ecological, and about self-care–just about everyone in the cast is desperate and carrying some type of trauma, and the meals that close each story are the building block on which they can start to grow, just like the dungeon around them.
It’s about health, mental and physical, in a context that embraces a wide variety of body types and abilities. There’s a lot to say, for example, about how incredibly autistic-coded Laios is and the freedom he finds to thrive on their journey. (The language isn’t used, as is so often the case, but I feel less frustrated by it in a medieval fantasy context where neuropsychiatry has not yet been invented let alone formal diagnoses or terms as such). It is worth knowing for people who’ve come looking for the incredibly homoerotic relationship between Marcille and Fallin that this is firmly “intense but unnamed bond” territory—but also that this is a series where nobody gets together romantically, even potential straight couples.
This first season is only half the story, but it’s plenty to chew on while we wait for the happily-announced continuation. If you want a fantasy series that’s playful with tropes but infinitely more creative than video game-based isekai 50485, or just a series with deliberate and thoughtful character writing, you owe it to yourself to give this a shot. And while you’re at it, I can’t recommend the English dub highly enough.
—Vrai
The Best of the Rest
These other titles got at least one vote from a staffer, earning them a spot on our 2024 recs list.
Brave Bang Bravern!
Chosen By: Vrai (Editor’s Bonus Pick)
Also Previously Recommended By: Caitlin
What’s it about? Lewis Smith and Ao Isami are from opposite sides of the world and its militarized forces: Lewis, a U.S pilot, and Isami, Japan’s ace. But the day aliens invade changes their lives, bringing them closer than they could’ve ever expected.
Content Warning: torture (waterboarding); comedic nudity; mild fanservice (male and female); brief jokes about assaulting a minor (Episode 3); valorization of the military
I’m almost loathe to describe Bravern too much, because it only benefits from falling headlong into its absurdity unawares. It has similarities to a certain other gonzo hero anime in that sense, though Bravern doesn’t have nearly as much thematic ambition as my beloved Samurai Flamenco. By far the show’s biggest weakness is its uncritical valorization of the military. Yes, it has waterboarding, but what initially seems like a genuinely dark turn evolves into an escalating running joke that ends with the CIA trying to waterboard a mech. Admittedly? Funny. But also the first signs of the overall approach. There’s certainly no malice here. There’s some mild fan service, but as much of beefy chests as gently jiggling boobs. Most of the female characters are background players (and one lady alien robot, who is of course The Horny One), but it was satisfying to see Lulu emerge as a protagonist in her own right.
The writing is primarily concerned with the aesthetics of the military—the sweaty camaraderie, the cool jets, the unified forces—all of which it throws against an imaginary alien enemy rather than acknowledging any human conflicts. But that’s also a more incidentally insidious kind of propaganda, promoting the trappings while whitewashing the atrocities of the military-industrial complex. It’s the kind of low-level background hum that’s practically de rigueur in the Hollywood action films (i.e. Top Gun) that Bravern is partially homaging. It’s worth examining critically, though it wasn’t ultimately enough to keep me from championing this show.
Because my GOD is it gay. Yes, it’s a loving and smartly made parody of and tribute to the history of giant robot anime made by a veteran of the genre; one that pings for a casual viewer but also includes a wealth of very specific references every single episode. But also, it’s so gay. It is the beautiful story of a robot who is extremely horny to have his pilot inside him. And the writing commits, dammit. There’s a love confession and a moonlit beach date. The power of love saves the day. And while the show revels in its own ridiculousness, it doesn’t belittle its characters’ emotions.
Even with its faults, I couldn’t walk away from the bubbling eagerness I felt waiting for each new episode, especially with the ever-raging thirst folks out there have for genre anime with queer romance. Bravern (and Bravern) is a big, muscley pit bull who loves you, and is probably chiefly thinking about whether he can eat the nearest rock. If you can meet it on those terms, it’s fantastic.
—Vrai
Cherry Magic! 30 Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!
Chosen by: Alex (#3), Cy (#2), Lizzie (#4), Tony (#3), Vrai (#4)
What’s it about? At 30, Adachi Kiyoshi is still a virgin, so you know what that means: he gets psychic powers! His power isn’t super impressive, though—he hears the thoughts of people he’s touching. The inside of most people’s heads isn’t very interesting, so it’s mostly a minor inconvenience… until he brushes up against his well-liked and handsome coworker Kurosawa Yuuichi. Turns out, Kurosawa has a thing for someone in the office: Adachi himself! What is a psychic virgin supposed to do with this knowledge?
Content considerations: real-life shipper fujoshi; mind reading; discussions of homophobic stereotypes; fears of being outed; sexual content.
Finally, some good goddamn food.
I’ll be honest, one of my biggest gripes with contemporary BL is that there seems to be this extreme dichotomy between the hypersexual predation stories that we get from the likes of Dakaichi and extremely slow burn romances like Given where the story ends with the characters getting together. For years, I’ve been waiting for a show that depicts two adult men entering a relationship that includes sex and is largely healthy. (Ideally, the sex would also be sexy and titillating, but that is a topic for another article.)
Cherry Magic basically answered my wishes. These men are horny for each other—especially Kurosawa, whose almost every thought when he’s around Adachi is “boy would I love to rail this twink. Consensually, of course.” (Okay actually it’s a little more restrained than that, but you get the picture.) And yet. And yet. This is actually a show about healthy communication more than anything.
Astonishingly, the mind-reading wizardry conceit ends up being a truly brilliant symbol throughout the series, signifying many different struggles somebody might have in a first same-sex relationship. Early in the series, it signifies the absurdity of the closet—how even as one knows full well the other person is madly in love with you, it’s still impossible to fully reveal one’s queer desire either to them or even to yourself. Later, though, it becomes a poignant symbol of Adachi’s terror at being hurt or accidentally hurting Kurosawa, and how being paralyzed by that fear or letting it guide him harms their ability to actually ever connect as adults. To be able to fully connect with Kurosawa, he has to trust Kurosawa enough to let him in. It is immensely satisfying to watch a BL where the messy early stages of a relationship are not only depicted, but given the complexity and weight they deserve.
The B-couple Tsuge and Wataya are also a delight, with their arc showing how a trusting relationship can support you as you follow your dreams. While their plot largely conforms to many romance anime cliches (cycling somebody to the audition/test while giving them a big pep talk, for example), it is still an enjoyable novelty to watch them applied to a BL.
The only thing that makes me sad about Cherry Magic is that it does not adapt the whole manga. I would have loved to see the kinds of explicit explorations of societal homophobia and resistance that the later volumes of the manga depict. Given the big time skip towards the end, there is almost no chance we will be getting a continuation, and that sucks!
However, it really only makes me sad because this is such a great series. Also, I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, that opening is so visually impressive. Thank you, Akane Kazuki.
—Tony
The Elusive Samurai
Chosen By: Chiaki (#5)
What’s about it? Hojo Tokiyuki is the heir of the puppet leader of the Kamakura shogunate. He spends most of his days running away from his attendants and avoids attending his lessons because he’s content with being treated as another “puppet ruler.” Tokiyuki is happy continuing the status quo for the sake of the prosperity of his people until the clan’s most loyal vassal, Ashikaga Takauji, betrays them and kills all their loyal followers. Tokiyuki is dead set on surviving and reclaiming his homeland from everyone who wronged him.
Content warnings: gore, blood, body horror, sexual violence; mentor Yorishige’s over-the-top affection for Tokiyuki is played as comedy/deliberate misdirection but potentially uncomfortable
While Anime Feminist’s year end recs often emphasize our editorial standards rooted in feminism, equality and progressive values, my final selection isn’t so much chosen based on those considerations as much as just the sheer fun a show can bring to the screen. In truth, this commendation is for two shows who met that benchmark, but Samurai wins the nod over the other because of AniFem’s editorial policy.
Anime has grown in leaps and bounds over the years, and it’s brought a sense of maturity and seriousness to its productions, especially as it adapts titles for teens and up. But in so many shows where we focus on heroes who can do almost anything or wind up in worlds where dragons and magic are real, the fantastical elements of animation often seem to take itself too seriously. And that is why The Elusive Samurai shines for me.
For a show about real-life historical figures, the wackiness infused into a high-quality animation budget makes this story a complete fantasy in its own way, and it engages the viewer whether you know the history or not. Samurai understands the medium it’s working in and leans into it in a way most shows would hold back on because it could otherwise be deemed distracting or too chaotic, but it’s got the chops to make it the show’s unique voice, so much so that they can just make the ED feature the cast wearing modern clothes riding a city bus and still look completely in-character.
Two shows managed to evoke this kind of healthy and playful chaos in its animation this past year, and the other show was Do-Over Damsel, which has the same sense of playfulness in its animation, however its central age-gap premise featuring a dude really into 10 year olds “for plot reasons,” does kind of knock it down a few pegs. So thus, Samurai, wins the nod for not only being a visual and comedic treat, but also managing to do so without falling into overtly problematic tropes aside from heavy and graphic violence expected in a battle shounen series.
Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End
Chosen By: Lizzie (#2)
What’s it about? For a decade, elven mage Frieren traveled with Himmel the Hero, Heiter the Priest, and Eisen, a dwarven warrior, on a quest to defeat the Demon King. Now, five decades after their adventures end, Frieren must ask one question of herself: how do you go on when connections begin to end?
Content warnings/considerations: Depictions of death and grieving; especially bad handling of fantasy racism.
Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End is a gift to fantasy fans and a reminder that it’s possible to reinvent the genre in refreshing ways. On a surface level, Frieren seems like the typical fantasy story about a hero party’s adventure, but what makes it special is that it examines their lives after their journey is over. What was a meaningful and impactful adventure for everyone else on the team was only a mere moment for an long-lived elf like Frieren. She didn’t realize how much she cared for her comrades until after Himmel died years later and began to lament how little she knew them. That’s where the true story of Frieren begins as she starts a new journey in order to build connections (both old and new) with other people and appreciate the legacy her teammates left behind.
The animation does a fantastic job making us feel how quickly time passes for Frieren, which is crucial to understanding why it’s challenging for her to slow down and value the time of her friends. Because human life is so fleeting, Frieren is often left questioning who will remember the true lives of her friends, better known as heroic legends? When humans are faced with their own mortality, how does anyone create a meaningful existence for themselves? These are deep philosophical questions and one that the series takes great care to explore through various different characters. Frieren is left in the unique position of being the one to carry on the memories and stories of everyone she meets and/or is closest to her. It’s a lonely existence; but Frieren, herself, makes it clear that as much as the past is important, it’s also equally important to focus on the present for the sake of building a better future.
Despite the great writing and beautiful animation, the series unfortunately reinforces the whole demons are “inherently evil” trope. In a world where magical beings like elves and dwarfs are granted nuanced, empathy and complexity to their motivations (in addition to infinite patience from humans), it’s a shame the writing doesn’t extend that same grace towards demons. Regardless of its flaws, I’m so happy Frieren exists because it reminds us how cool the fantasy genre can be, If nothing else, I’m grateful for every magical fight scene that made me feel like I was watching something truly special. Kudos to the animators! You nailed it!
– Lizzie
Girls Band Cry
Chosen by: Vrai (#3)
What’s it about? High school dropout Iseri Nina has moved to Tokyo with no plans and a truckload of anger at the bullying she’s endured. The only thing that saved her was the music of Kawaragi Momoka, who she just happens to meet on her first night in Tokyo. It’s also the same night that Momoka has decided to give up on music.
Content warnings/considerations: Depictions of racism, bullying
The ever-worsening state of streaming monopolies—with their poor accessibility support, attempts to put translators out of work with AI, and lackadaisical approach to licensing—has put a real strain on AniFem’s commitment to exclusively supporting official outlets in regards to seasonal coverage. As the incredible (and incredibly messy) DEVILMAN crybaby birthed our “it’s complicated” category, so the English-language streaming sphere’s total shut-out of such a well-regarded title required consideration.
Thankfully, Catchplay+ arrived to give us a compromise: if a series is available on an official streaming service with (human made) English subs in any region, and a staff member is willing to jump through the hoops to use it, those shows are on the table for recommendation. This is how I spent an entire Saturday fighting with exchange rates and a VPN just to watch Spring’s best new show. (And as of this best-of list, Crunchyroll finally got off their ass and licensed it! You can just stream it normally there! Or on Kanopy, if that’s more your cup of tea).
Girls Band Cry is angry. It’s a lot of other things too—melodramatic, joyous, silly, heartfelt—but the anger is what continues to strike me foremost. Nina is drawn to rock music because it’s a safe place for her to vent her anger. All the girls are, whether it’s from a suffocating family legacy or racist comments, and that anger pours out in songs that would make the riot grrrls of yesteryear proud. While lots of very good music shows recently have touched on feeling lost, depressed, anxious, or otherwise dissatisfied with the world, this is the first I’ve seen to literally put up its middle fingers and tell society to fuck off. (I am, admittedly, a band show neophyte who still hasn’t seen NANA, so please tell me about the shows I’m not thinking of in the comments).
It’s not just a general spirit of rebellion, either. A huge crux of the developing plot is that Momoka’s last band took on an idol aesthetic under pressure from their label, leading her to quit, while Nina champions the unvarnished honesty of Momoka’s original work. Hanada Jukki’s hand at the wheel keeps things steady where a more inexperienced writer might have floundered, as he stands behind the spirit of Nina’s endeavors while explicitly refusing to demonize the girls who felt they had to “sell out” or risk being drummed out of the industry. It sidesteps easy answers while trying to aim for something hopeful, and it’s electrifying.
To top it all off, the music is electrifying, and the mostly-CGI visuals are backed up by spirited direction (as expected, maybe, since Sakai Kazuo is reteaming with Hanada after their work together on Love Live!), leaning into the slight uncanniness that can come from CG rigs with a deliberately cartoony sort of motion. It’s not Orange, but it oozes personality from every pore, and might be an easier stepping-in point for those who struggled with the impeccably written but sometimes visually stiff It’s MyGO!!!!!. I don’t have an answer to the streaming struggles of the moment. I just know I need to listen to “Wrong World” again.
—Vrai
Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc
Chosen by: Alex (#5), Cy (#3)
Also Previously Recommended By: Caitlin, Dee
What’s it about? The market for magical girl services is booming, and Magilumiere is one tiny little startup in a sea of 500. It might be a company full of oddballs, but it’s the perfect place for recent graduate Sakuragi Kana, who wants nothing more than to be of help.
Content Considerations: one-off joke about Shigemoto’s outfit that’s about cosplay at work but briefly evokes “scary man in dress” stereotypes.
One thing I’ve always wondered is, what happens when a magical girl becomes a magical adult? Does she put away childish things, hand up her wand or magical trinket, and move ahead into adulthood, forcibly forgetting her past as a heroine? Thankfully, Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc. has an answer, and it’s as curious as it is grounded in reality, breathing fresh life into a specific aspect of a genre I, and so many, love.
When I first sat down to watch, I anticipated liking this series, but what I walked away with was a love for the notion of being passionate and finding a job that accommodates and supports you. Much of the show is less about magical girls and more about the technical side of things: programming spells and maintaining brooms and making signature transformations that are part advertisement, part business card. It’s a look into what an expo for workers in the field would be like and what the day to day is like. More importantly, it’s steadily become a show about climate change and the effects of magic, something we don’t have, on our very real environment and world.
I suppose that this, combined with the genuine heart lead Kana has, is what pulled me in and made this an easy recommendation from the fall season. Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc. isn’t necessarily rewriting what it means to be a magical girl in a 2020s series, but it is pushing the envelope on having a modern conversation with magic and the mundane and how that all plays into a job being a job but also, being part of how we support the world. It’s a message that can easily be out of mind, out of sight, yet I found that even in the climax, Magilumiere stayed true to exploring a world where magic may play a key part in how we are custodians to the world around us.
I eagerly await the next season of this show, and hope that it continues to push back against a toxic work culture that is endemic to both Japan and the larger, industrialized world. Perhaps this will be the one time that the characters do look at the screen and read society as it is. However it’s done, I have a magical amount of faith that Magilumiere Magical Girls Inc. will execute it well and look good doing it!
–Cy
Makeine: Too Many Losing Heroines
Chosen by: Caitlin (#3), Peter (#4)
Also Previously Recommended By: Alex
What’s it about? Nukumizo Kazuhiko is in a coffee shop dreaming of what it would be like to fall in love when he sees a drama playing out in front of him: Yanami Anna gets dumped by her crush in favor of a new girl. He was not supposed to see that–-and now, Anna needs him to hold all her messy feelings and secrets about this situation. And these feelings are messy.
Content warnings: fan service (with the camera being particularly skeevy around the one darker-skinned character), a running joke about teachers being overly invested in their students’ sex lives, stalking played for comedy.
Losing Heroines asks intriguing questions, like “what happens after the big climactic rom-com moment has happened and normal high school life must go on?” and “how do you navigate a friendship with someone who has rejected you romantically?” and “what if the Pining Childhood Friend character had an absolutely dogshit personality in the funniest way possible?” There are no straightforward answers to any of these, but there is some very funny and heartfelt storytelling as these messy kids try to figure it all out.
Despite Anna’s initial insistence that “there’s two kinds of girls, childhood friends and homewreckers,” the series itself resists this binary, and rejects the notion of pitting the female characters against one another as rivals; instead, it explores the awkward but genuine friendships that grow between the so-called winners and losers of each love triangle. I feel in my bones that there’s a romance between Anna and Nukumizu down the line; however, from where this season leaves us, the show overwhelmingly emphasizes platonic bonds and the importance and hard work of genuine friendship. A wonderful, gentle chemistry evolves between all the main characters across the series, leading to some raucously funny and also very moving moments between all the different members of the ensemble.
The series has its fair share of bawdy, less-than-tasteful comedy moments (see content warnings above), often punctuated by Nukumizu awkwardly noting that wow, this is just like in his light novels, as if making a meta joke about the cliches of the rom-com genre excuses the narrative stupidity of a girl tripping and falling bust-first into his face. I definitely don’t think Makeine will be for everyone, and whether or not the sweet moments and fantastically sincere character writing outweigh the (occasional, but jarring) gross scenes will be for each viewer to decide. But I definitely want to give the so-called losing heroines their flowers for being so fun, complex, unsympathetic, messy, and ultimately loveable, very much feeling like complicated humans despite how they initially slot neatly into romance archetypes.
––Alex
MAYONAKA PUNCH
Chosen By: Alex (#4), Chiaki (#2)
Also Previously Recommended by: Dee, Vrai
What’s it about? Masakichi has just been booted from the Hyped-Up Sisters NewTube channel after throwing a punch during a livestream. Spiraling and desperate to make a comeback, Masakichi stumbles on the perfect solution in Live, a vampire who just woke up from a 20-year dream of a woman who’s Masakichi’s spitting image. The two make a deal: if Live will star in videos and rack up a million subscribers, Masakichi will offer herself up as dinner.
Content warnings: Suicide ideation, violence (both slapstick and more serious), depictions of anxiety and burnout
MayoPan is deeply, delightfully silly, starring a cast of female characters who are given full range to be raucous and ridiculous, and for that alone I’d recommend it. However, like all the best comedies (supernatural or otherwise), these goofs are anchored in solid character writing and there are some great emotional beats amidst the vampiric content creation chaos. I was surprised, in particular, how much I ended up liking our very online anti-hero Masaki. She’s a satisfyingly (and entertainingly) flawed protagonist who’s capable of being a garden-variety asshole in ways female characters don’t always get to be. She’s also (in a nice complement to Vtuber Legend below) a great encapsulation of the horrors of the current online content creator landscape, and how getting your sense of self tangled up in this system can impact a person’s self-esteem, relationships, and overall health.
Masaki’s arc and the depiction of her burnout is great; that being said, if you want a deeper look at the ecosystem of online fame and its many terrors and flaws, this show may not do it for you, as it admittedly skims over a lot of the issues that feel pretty entrenched in the industry (toxic parasocial fandom, for example, or the ways in which female creators are encouraged to commodify themselves for views, both of which MayoPan briefly acknowledges, but only as punchlines). It also, unfortunately, doesn’t quite make good on the incredibly homoerotic set-up of Live’s dreamy bloodlust, at least in terms of giving her and Masaki a romance arc. Still, the series reaches its zany conclusion while clearly leaving the window open for a second season, so who knows what could be down the track? I’ll certainly be liking, subscribing, and hitting the bell for notifications.
— Alex
MONOGATARI — Off & Monster Season
Chosen By: Tony (#2)
What’s it about? Something strange is happening in Araragi’s town—apparitions have begun to afflict various teenagers with strange afflictions, causing them to lose their weight, go into convulsions, or vanish never to return, and he himself was turned into a half-vampire. Araragi teams up with fellow high schoolers Hanekawa and Senjyougahara to try to protect his classmates, with the help of town vagrant and apparition specialist Oshino.
Content Warning: Cannibalism, internalized misogyny, fan service (almost nonexistent compared to previous seasons), sexual assault (in previous seasons)
At long last, I get the honor of inducting Monogatari into the ranks of feminist approved anime an official Anime Feminist recommendation list. Truly, I have never been happier. And it’s all thanks to the innovative new woman in the director’s chair: Yoshizawa Midori.
Some context is necessary here: I have dragged Peter and Vrai kicking and screaming through a Monogatari watchalong, sung its praises incessantly on the Discord, and generally made it my identity. Its explorations of teenage messiness, interrogations of the meaning and purpose of intimacy, surprising queerness, and brilliant direction have made Monogatari one of my all time favorite franchises. Its ways of looking at relationships have shaped me. More than anything, I love the girls. I love to watch them try to figure out how to trust each other, open up about their struggles, flirt with each other, and generally have complex interiorities that we only see the surface of in the show. Unfortunately, for much of Monogatari, they are also the subject of some truly obscene male gaze bullshit, only some of which can be waved away as “inhabiting/calling attention to the horny male protagonist’s point of view.” While this fan service slowly dissipates over the course of the show’s many seasons, the early seasons have made it difficult to recommend to any feminist-minded audience. So imagine my delight when I discovered that the new season was going to be directed by not only a female director, but one behind some of my absolute favorite episodes of the series? One whose episode of Owarimonogatari, Ougi Formula 2, gave me entirely new and terrifying ways of looking at femininity—and remains the only episode of anime to truly and deeply disturb me.
And boy, howdy, did she deliver. Off & Monster Season looks at the world of Monogatari resoundingly through the eyes of its girls, and it is a beautiful vision, entirely free of any fan service. Each arc until the final Araragi arc is narrated by a different girl, and each has their own idiosyncratic directorial style—Ononoki the undead doll, for example, has many flights of fancy featuring silhouettes over monochromatic shots of nature. The series really kicks into gear with Nadeko’s arc—Nadeko’s arcs in general have charted a beautiful course as she takes more and more agency over the camera on her. Nadeko who, if anything, was the most horrifically and borderline pornographically gazed upon in Bakemonogatari and then became the unreliable and self-hating narrator of Otorimonogatari, becomes an introspective and canny narrator of her own arc in Off Season. As she reflects on all the different people she has made herself be, and tries to come to a place of acceptance and self love, this arc perfectly caps off her story, with gracefully no intervention from Araragi whatsoever.
Shinobu’s backstory arc, on the other hand, is the lesbian cannibal vampire story I never knew I needed from Monogatari—full of baroque visuals with physically impossible and lavishly ornate compositions, Shinobu’s backstory is truly the centerpiece of this masterful season. While the (still largely fan service free) last arc featuring Araragi as the narrator is by far the weakest of the arcs, it still gave us force-femmed Araragi, and for that, it will live on forever in my heart. (It also demonstrates a huge amount about Araragi’s growth that he visited a high school girls’ sleepover and didn’t sexualize any of the girls there at all, so go you Araragi!)
While Off Season and Monster Season is by no means a good starting place for the behemoth that is Monogatari, I hope this review has made it clear why I have stuck with the series for so long, and why I encourage anybody interested in psychological dramas, aestheticized visuals, or how humans form real connections to check it out. As long as I am on staff, I will continue to fight for my problematic, brilliant, bizarrely emotionally intelligent disasterpiece. Monogatari is a mess. Long live Monogatari.
—Tony
Natsume’s Book of Friends — Season 7
Chosen by: Dee (#5)
What’s it about? Natsume’s ability to see supernatural beings has long left him an outcast. But when he moves in with kindly relatives and discovers his grandmother’s Book of Friends containing the names of countless yokai, he begins to find a home among humans and yokai alike.
Content considerations: The entire series contains restrained depictions of emotional abuse, bullying, child neglect, and violence; occasionally spooky yokai.
As long as I’m on the AniFem staff—and as long as Studio Shuka keeps dropping new seasons—Natsume will have a spot on our recommendations lists. This fantastical slice-of-life remains a masterclass in both episodic and slow-burn storytelling, teasing out short- and long-term narratives with bittersweet compassion and grace.
Early seasons primarily focused on Natsume’s personal growth and healing, but as he’s gradually come to accept his abilities and form lasting bonds with others, later seasons have shifted the focus to the people around him. It’s a testament to the thoughtful character writing that there are still histories and personalities to uncover, even after 86 episodes. And, after seeing what Natsume went through to get here, it’s also immensely gratifying to watch him expand his world and deepen his relationships.
The existence of a long-running, lovingly adapted shoujo feels like a minor miracle in the modern anime landscape. This is a series best savored, so if you’re intimidated by the episode count, don’t feel the need to binge. Just soak in the supernatural atmosphere for a couple episodes a week. It won’t be the quickest watch, but it will be a rewarding one.
—Dee
Negative Positive Angler
Chosen by: Tony (#5)
Also Previously Recommended By: Caitlin
Content considerations: suicide attempt (played for laughs); depictions of mental illness, terminal illness, grief, physical violence
A huge number of people were turned off by the poorly conceived suicide attempt in the first five minutes of this show, and while I understand the sentiment, it’s still a damn shame; Negative Positive Angler was one of my main sources of comfort in an astonishingly cold holiday season. Hanging out with the goofballs of Everymart as they calculated, fumbled, misunderstood, and cared their way through countless fishing expeditions felt like coming home to your sweetest, dorkiest friend group. I love how Hana’s face turns into more and more of a blob every time she’s annoyed or scheming; I love how Ice’s face does the opposite. I love Ice’s finger guns. I love Kozue’s complete lack of understanding of personal space and much how it confuses our dumbfuck protagonist (she is, for the record, canonically attracted to women. You go, show!) I love looking at Arua’s massive tits delicious food! I love the casual representation of immigrants and queer people in a genre that often features girls that can be best described as interchangeable.
But what ultimately grounds the show is the complex relationship between Takaaki and Sasaki, which borders on the slightly homoerotic before settling firmly into a brotherly friendship. Takaaki’s almost unbelievable kindness grounds the show and the protagonist, and his creation of a safe environment and comforting presence allows Sasaki to grow as a person. While Sasaki is definitely a bit of a pill at the start of the series, watching him learn to let in the people around him, to see character’s positive intentions and view their traumas as as important as his, is quite meaningful. The avoidance and attempts to run away from it rather than actually seek treatment rang true to my own experiences, as well as the critique of non-ill people who impose their will and center themselves as saviors in the life story of those who are ill, which leant these depictions nuance and care. My only critique is that for a show about somebody literally dying of illness, the show did not seem particularly interested in depicting the actual physical pain of illness—this is a bit frustrating, given that shows as diverse as Sailor Moon and Mushishi have depicted that kind of pain considerately without turning their respective shows into trauma porn. Overall, though, I got an enormous amount out of Negative Positive Angler, and would gladly recommend it.
—Tony
Senpai is an Otokonoko
Chosen by: Chiaki (#3), Dee (#3), Vrai (#5)
Also Previously Recommended By: Caitlin
What’s it about? Aoi Saki finally plucks up the courage to confess to cool older girl Hanaoka Makoto, only for Makoto to confess that he’s an otokonoko. Used to being ostracized, Makoto tries to push Saki away to keep her from being picked on. But Saki isn’t one bit deterred, even by the protective prickliness of Makoto’s childhood friend Ryuji.
Content Warning: depictions of trans/queerphobic bullying and parental abuse; initially boundary-pushing love interest
One of the biggest issues with making a story that’s about explicitly queer people is that the storytelling can fall into the pitfall of becoming Gender and Sexualities Studies 101. Not to say this isn’t a good thing since you can use your project to create a teachable moment for people, but it takes some skill to tell a compelling story and also be educational. These stories inevitably must pause in the middle of a scenes to have a character stare straight at the camera and go “hi I’m gay, it means I like people the same gender as me.”
And similarly, at the other end of the spectrum, some stories feel explicitly by and for queer people, which is also invaluable and should be treasured, but isn’t necessarily accessible to the general public.
Senpai is an Otokonoko sit between those two archetypes, and, though not perfect, does a solid job in conveying the teenage years of self-exploration of queer identity.
Its imperfections invite criticism and some unsure footing in the outset. Taking a nod from its webcomic roots, the show incorporates simplistic animation, which led to Vrai’s assessment that the show is sometimes a “slideshow.” Moreover, the title refers to “otokonoko” which is written out in hiragana, but is often written 男の娘 or “boy who is a girl” in Japanese slang, referring to boy or man who crossdresses and often a grey area for whether someone is “truly trans” or not. But stick around, and you’ll find the story is genuine and messy in all the ways a group of teens trying to navigate personal issues can get.
Being old enough to be exasperated of teenage bullshit, I get how Ryuji’s reaction to crushing on Makoto is grating. He’s got a lot of learning to do, but personally, I think his character plays out in a way a kid navigating this stuff (in his case, internalized homophobia) should. He’s simply trying his best.
Similarly, Saki has her own issues, stemming from a rough childhood and, at times, she’s as strong of a character as Makoto in the spotlight, perhaps even enough to outshine the titular Senpai. And personally, it’s these segments that make me feel this show is more than just a show About Gender.
Of course, this also means that the middle of this show almost feels like Makoto’s kind of out of the picture at times, and you start wondering if this show even is about gender identity or not. But that’s kind of the beauty of it in my opinion. I don’t think it is.
For while the initial conceit of the show is about Makoto trying to be himself as a boy who loves to be effeminate (and struggling as that conception continues to change), it’s also about him trying to fit in and wear a mask. For him, that mask is for his transphobic mother. And on further reflection, all three protagonists wear a similar mask. Ryuji similarly wears the mask of heteronormativity while wrestling with his feelings for Makoto, and Saki also puts up a front to appear carefree and happy to appease others in her life while wondering if she’s really interested in romance at all. It’s all incredibly high school, and honestly, that’s fine because they are in high school.
And to top it all off, the show’s theme song is the queerest bop this past season, making it all the more better. If there ever was any doubt or question on what the central theme of the show is for Senpai is an Otokonoko, the show’s opening is happy to drives that point home by literally being about how suffocating it is to appease people while burning with desire to just be free of those societal pressures.
— Chiaki
A Sign of Affection
Chosen By: Alex (#2), Peter (#5)
Also Previously Recommended by: Dee, Tony
What’s it about? Yuki loves fashion, cute things, and her friends, and is living her best life in her first year of college. She’s also deaf and uses a combination of sign language and written notes to communicate with her classmates. A chance encounter on a train sees her path crossing with a jet-setting fellow student named Itsuomi, who has just come back from his latest trip. Yuki assumes he can’t possibly be interested in her, but, thanks to some encouragement/meddling from her best friend, maybe her world is about to get a little bit wider.
Content warning: scenes of disability discrimination, often unintentional, systemic, or built into the setting around them.
A Sign of Affection retains the sweet tone that the premiere established, and unfolds into a gentle, down-to-earth, character-focused story about relationships, communication, and self-confidence. While the romance between Yuki and Itsuomi (and the ensuing love quadrangle that spirals out from it) is a major part of the series, it often feels like the narrative’s main drive is to provide a sincere coming-of-age story for Yuki. It’s rewarding to watch her come out of her shell, expand her horizons, increasingly stick up for herself (particularly where her overbearing, overprotective childhood friend Oushi is concerned), and generally have a nice time.
While the series touches on some of the challenges Yuki faces as a Deaf person navigating a world that doesn’t always accommodate her, it’s not capital A About her disability, nor does her entire characterization hinge around her marginalization in society. It helps that there are multiple Deaf or Hard of Hearing characters throughout the ensemble cast who demonstrate a range of personalities and experiences, saving Yuki from being the be all and end all of disability representation in the show (even if she is the only major character—not ideal, but still). But most satisfyingly, A Sign of Affection generally manages to balance depicting a realistic world with depicting a romanticized, rosy shoujo story. While there are some hurdles at the start—for example, Itsuomi overstepping physical boundaries with casual touch a few times—the main couple settles into a really sweet dynamic that emphasizes the importance of communication and emotional intimacy as a precursor to all else. It’s clearly a healthy relationship while also being practically glittery with elements of romantic fantasy.
As this article about A Sign of Affection’s animation and production process articulates so neatly, “its creators see it first and foremost as an idealistic shoujo romance; one that uses reality to ground the lived experience of people with hearing impairment, but that remains deliberately starry-eyed otherwise.” While your mileage may vary and I expect—like all works of art that depict marginalized identities in some way—it will resonate with some audiences and bounce off others, it’s clear that this anime was put together with a lot of care, both in terms of respecting Yuki as a character and building a warm, welcoming world in which to tell an inclusive romantic story.
—Alex
Train to the End of the World
Chosen By: Dee (#4)
Also Previously Recommended by: Lizzie, Tony
What’s it about? Two years ago, the implementation of the 7G network had a warping effect on Japan: deforming the landscape; tanking most technology; and causing human beings to turn into plants, animals, and other bizarre things. It was also when Shizuru’s dear friend Yoka went missing, but Shizuru refuses to give up the search. When a clue finally surfaces, Shizuru doesn’t hesitate to commandeer a lone functioning train car—fortunately, she has friends along for the ride.
Content considerations: brief fan service, violence, gaslighting
There is a principle in sketch comedy called The Game. It states that whatever is weird and funny about a sketch scene must be slowly taken to its logical extreme—and the sketch will end at that extreme, rather than ever coming back to reality. Though Train to the End’s dialogue owes quite a bit to Manzai style comedy, its writing follows this rule of sketch comedy to a tee. Whichever bit the show chooses to go with, it commits. If an episode is about erotically challenged zombies, you are going to see heads exploding to school girls shouting bawdy comedic songs. If in one episode we see that archery in this world involves beating the shit out of your opponent with a bow, you know for a fact that that would come back in a major way later in the show.
More than just committing to the comedic qualities of any given scene, Train also commits to the implications of its drama. It is not afraid to be honest about whether certain rifts can be truly healed with a mere apology. Research shows that teenage girls are often encouraged to bury their feelings to reconcile with each other as part of their socialization, never actually addressing the real harm they do to each other or their own boundaries not being respected. This leads to many shows about girls ending with utterly unconvincing reconciliations that sour my feelings about them at the last minute (looking at you, Jellyfish!).
Train to the End has none of that. The ending confrontations in this show are largely successful in communicating and addressing the gravity of the harms of the protagonist—though arguably the problems our lost girl was manipulated into causing are not quite addressed satisfyingly. I can’t end this recommendation without shouting out the best character by a country mile, Akira. Never has a character more perfectly been Made For Me—from her hilariously opposites attract friendship with Reimi that carries the best moments of the show to her ability to almost always save the day with her attitude of skepticism and her infinite repository of throughly useless information, I salute her.
—Tony
VTuber Legend: How I Went Viral after Forgetting to Turn Off My Stream
Chosen by: Chiaki (#1)
What’s it about? Kokorone Awayuki is a Vtuber based on a pure, ladylike persona. She’s not getting a lot of attention, much less revenue… until one night she accidentally leaves her microphone on while she gets drunk, goofs around, and yells about how horny she is.
Content warnings: alcohol dependency played for comedy, sexual humor, stalking, unwanted sexual advances played for comedy, toilet humor
Despite the alcohol abuse and the regular theme of unwanted sexual advances, I just cannot stress enough that Vtuber Legend ends up being the second best show of the season for me, personally. The only show that I can say had more of a punch than this was, well… Mayonaka Punch, which winds up being a bit deeper and more dynamic as a show.
Yet, Awayuki’s 12-episode foray into losing herself at a mile a minute ends up landing because Vtuber Legend did its homework on vtubers. Whether it’s the dedication to the kayfabe, or the lowkey admission that all of the jokes and references are for people at least 30 years old despite playing someone maybe half their actual age online, the show gets me, which is one point I do like to point out. As much as LiveOn is a successful talent agency in the show, the way Vtuber Legend depicts the vtubers and the work they do feels closer to an indie vibe rather than a corpo vibe, particularly because it’s often harder to find an agency where almost everyone is consistently a huge unhinged disaster.
The show’s starting premise heavily leans in on alcoholism, and it regularly acknowledges that viewers should ultimately imbibe responsibly at a legal age. However, the joke gradually gives way as the cast expands, especially so after Ep. 5 when Awayuki meets a new generation of LiveOn talents. Unfortunately, that same expansion just serves to introduce a whole new set of wild behavior as one of the new talents bases her entire character around having a fantical obsession with Awayuki while another gen mate is straight up into vocal and enthusiastic ABDL-play. While I’m not about to kink-shame someone for wanting to be a baby, I do have to stress that unwanted personal advances are problematic at the end of the day, no matter how funny it is in its depiction.
Still, the bawdy, no-fucks, attitude Awayuki adopts, which joins the chorus of disaster-women in LiveOn’s cast, all serve to send a message. The show ultimately advocates for these women to be true to themselves, even if they are not all too sensible or good. That uniqueness lends not only interesting, but earnest content, which is invaluable when a streamer’s parasocial relationship with viewers needs to be conveyed genuinely.
This lesson is reiterated over and over again, and the show drives the point home in the final episodes, even adding a bit of non-explicit, but heavily coded autism rep in the finale to tell viewers, it’s important to sometimes be your true self, even if you feel like you need to commit to hiding yourself for the sake of others. Indeed, no one should aspire to be a bawdy alcoholic burnout, but that’s who Awayuki and her drunksona Shuwa-chan are. And frankly engaging with her fellow talents as that disaster lets Awayuki grow and make genuine connections as an entertainer as much as grow as a person herself.
This is a question I think a lot of content creators online must face and find an answer for ultimately, and I’ve seen it play out over the years. Whether it’s the comings out for popular video creators as trans, or the ruminations of a video essayist on wanting to create something deeper and bigger than “a YouTube video essay,” a tinge of earnestness from behind the mask can bring a lot to the table and Vtuber Legend gets that core life lesson very well all while being a nonstop comedic romp.
— Chiaki
Yakuza Fiancé: Raise wa Tanin ga Ii
Chosen by: Caitlin (#4), Chiaki (#4), Cy (#5), Peter (#3)
Content Warning: Blood, Torture, Sexual Harassment, Bullying; depictions of explicit sex
What’s it about? Yoshino’s engagement is to a prince…of sorts; actually, she’s betrothed to the head of the Miyama Yakuza Clan as part of a truce to bring some sort of peace between them and Yoshino’s own Kansai-centered group. Yet her fiance, Kirishima, is far from a dream come true and hides a dark side beneath his pleasant facade.
It’s often frustrating that so much anime and manga just gets grouped under the “seinen” label, because works that feel like they’re written with audiences outside their established demographics feel so mismatched when you simply call them “seinen.” Just the same, the series by naming and at first glance might suffer from pre-established genre expectations of stories around a young woman and a hard-boiled yakuza, because prior to getting into Yakuza Fiancé, I was out here asking whether this was the anime adaptation to Yakuza Lover.
Instead, what we actually get is a twisted drama centered on crime, politics and an impossibly adversarial will-they-won’t-they romance that very much seems written with a female audience in mind. This magical combination achieves fantastic results.
We all safely expected Kirishima to be at least a little unhinged and wild, but we quickly learn he’s that and then some. A self-admitted masochist with a penchant for violence, Kirishima is like a gun personified as a supadali. But as much as the action and political conniving in the story swirls around him, Yoshino also takes center stage as an active part in the story’s machinations.
Yoshino isn’t as wild. If anything, she’s downright sensible given the circumstances she finds herself in, and her Kansai dialect makes her the perfect tsukkomi. But rather than mistaking a sensible and down-to-earth perspective for being a damsel waiting for her lone-wolf boyfriend to come home safely, Yoshino’s charm shines especially when she takes matters into her own hands.
While our heroine isn’t as adept at fighting, nor is she as readily capable of using her yakuza contacts to gather intel, Yoshino’s cunning and forthright attitude manages to make even Kirishima heel. That forcefulness also helps define her as capable, and when the story calls on her to do a hail-Mary, it’s totally believable that the battles she wins herself were totally in-character for her.
Just the same, Kirishima, for all his machismo and terrifyingly cool and calculated scheming, is humbled on occasion. Ultimately he and Yoshino are both high schoolers, and the show painfully makes sure to highlight that fact by reminding its audience, “don’t forget, the story is way bigger than these two.”
That complexity earns this show its place as one of the most enticing and consumable shows this past season. However, for me personally, I can’t help but also give a shoutout to Tsubaki, Yoshino’s cousin from Kyoto. She is absolutely a fellow Kyoto-ite after my own heart, such that I can only ever wish to be as awful as her.
—Chiaki
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