There are moments, perversely enough, when I get genuinely annoyed by how good Chihayafuru can be.  No series that has the power to drive me as crazy as it does should be allowed to be this fantastic.  None of that is Morio-sensei or Madhouse’s fault of course – but while the brilliance of the adaptation can’t be denied, the essence of what makes the anime great – when it’s great – starts with the manga.  It’s the sublimity Chihayafuru is capable of that makes it such a tragedy that it fritters away so much of it, so often.

I think this episode was something close to perfection, really.  At the risk of being accused of hyperbole I’m not sure there’s ever been an anime that delivers more spellbinding competition episodes than this one.  There are too many of them in the grand scheme of things, and some of those competitions should be shorter, but this is definitely not one of those.  It’s hard to imagine a more compelling showdown that Suou-meijin and Harada-sensei, and for once Chihayafuru – and the live stream – actually showed it to us.

Suou-san’s part in this is not to be minimized.  Harada-sensei is the heart of this third season, but Suou is a fascinating man, and Suetsugu has expertly kept so much of him in shadow that the light shining on it now has a dramatic effect.  A lonely child abandoned by deadbeat parents, a kindly aunt with failing eyesight, a house full of mayhem and laughter – this is fascinating because we’ve all formed out own image of what the Meijin’s life might be like, and have that to compare against.  “To make something of myself” is his stated reason for playing karuta – because that’s what his Aunt Yukiko told him to do when he went off to Todai.

What strikes me about Suou is the contrast of his existence.  That is to say, he draws people to him (the affection his juniors at university have for him is obvious) yet even surrounded by others he seems perpetually alone.  He keeps repeating (suspiciously often) how he doesn’t love karuta, and that he needs to feed off the passion of others because he’s hollow himself.  I don’t buy that personally, but to the extent it’s true it’s easy to see why Harada is a dream opponent for Suou.  No one could realistically bring more passion to karuta than he – and no one, in a life of games where closer margins of victory were only a means of challenging himself when no one else could – has ever pushed Suou-meijin this hard.

The queen match is wrapping up too, though for once it’s not the center of attention.  It’s testament to how gripping the meijin match is that this one is overshadowed, because these characters are thoroughly engaging as well.  Haruka especially, who sees the last moments of her karuta career slipping away from her, is a marvelous creation (and Sakamoto Maaya, as always, a marvelous actor).  It’s no tragedy – she has a happy life.  But the symbolism here is powerful, especially in a Japan where people – especially women – are defined by their relationship to others.  This is Haruka the individual saying goodbye forever, and Haruka the mother and wife embarking on the first day of the rest of her life.

I hated to see Haruka’s last act in competitive karuta (probably) be a double-fault – that’s a shame.  But Shinobu displayed real class in having her count the cards – an acknowledgement that there were two queens in this match, not one (and that the cards loved them both).  Meanwhile the master match is (naturally) counting down to an inevitable luck-of-the-draw (of course Taichi remembers every dead card).  Suou’s superhuman hearing and game sense – he actually claims a card before anything is vocalized off the nature of the reader’s intake of breath – obviously becomes a greater advantage as the board shrinks.  The old bear scraps for every card, his knee screaming agony like the ice on Aqualung’s beard, watching his lead grow smaller and smaller until he’s reeled in.  But not defeated – just caught.

This is as good as sports anime gets, really.  Two utterly fascinating combatants going toe to toe, each staring their karuta mortality in the face for different reasons.  This is a Suou we’ve never seen before – breathing heavily, taking cards with sweeps rather than cheeky covers.  If it’s passion he needs he’s got it to spare here, because Harada has only one way to keep going – to burn with his own passion, to attack relentlessly, to psych himself up so much that he can bear the pain for one more card, then one more.  Kitano-sensei literally throwing him a cushion is a reflection of just how much Harada’s sheer force of will can move people – no one understands him better, or what he’s going through.  But in the end, as Harada-sensei said at the end of his match with Arata, you’re alone – just you, and the reader.