Make no mistake, I’m heartily glad to have Yesterday o Utatte still on the schedule, and I’m going to cherish every episode we get.  As series fall by the wayside left and right (Major 2nd was a cruel blow) each one that remains is that much more vital – and this was the one series along with Major that I would hope survives the season.  But it ain’t lighthearted, that’s for sure.  Yesterday does offer a sort of escapism, but it’s very different from the comfort food kind.

Here’s how I view this show at this point.  First, it’s not about the relationships.  The romantic ones, anyway.  And it’s not the sort of series you can absorb casually – it’s a show that you have to devote your full attention to if you’re going to process it as it’s intended.  This is a serious story in the best sense of the word.  It’s deep without being pretentious (and if one is so inclined they can go even deeper by tracking down the two-minute bonus episodes – this week’s, for example, confirms that Haru was indeed posturing by claiming to be a “bar hostess”), and it doesn’t paper over just how painful life is.  That might seem like an ill fit for such a troubled time as we’re living in, but it is an effective escape in that it requires your full emotional attention – not just for 22 minutes, but also the time it takes to process what you’ve just witnessed.

This week is very much Rou’s story, and as the fourth wheel in the main drama it was definitely overdue.  His is really the one perspective that hasn’t been explored thus far – we’ve only seen him through Shinako’s eyes, pretty much.  There are so many themes at work in this series that it’s hard to know where to start, but one very interesting one is the contrast between being 17 and being 23.  It’s a blip in time that feels like an eon.  So much of being a teenager is about posturing, because posturing is both an integral part of establishing self-identity and compensating for insecurity.  But at 23, with life and its limitations staring you in the face, regrets are already starting to factor into the equation.

Another theme here, of course, is how we hurt each other without realizing we’re doing so.  For Rou, there’s nothing crueler Shinako could do to him than to constantly compare him to his brother.  He’s had that for literally his whole life, for starters.  And he’s spent much of that life falling in love with her.  It’s bad enough that Shinako sees Rou as a little brother (though perfectly natural).  But Yuu’s death has left him with something he can never measure up to.  Rou is the same age Yuu was when he died, but no matter how long Rou lives Yuu will always be six years older and a figure that towers over him.  Everyone obsesses over Shinako’s challenge in getting over Yuu, but for Rou it may be even harder.

Ah, what a tangle.  Rou is wrestling with his own Yuu-independent adolescent issues – i.e. trying to figure out who he is.  He does love art, and maybe in Kanazawa his talent was a big deal (indeed, at least he was better than his brother at it).  But at his Tokyo school he’s confronted with the reality that he’s not that exceptional.  As his new friend (whose name I don’t believe we’re told but is clearly played by Horie Shun) points out, it’s boring when you get technically to the same level as everyone else and you’re all doing roughly the same thing – but that’s art school.  Art is more personal than that, which Rou has to learn on his own.

What I like here is that despite his frustration about art school and being (inevitably) rejected by Shinako, Rou doesn’t wallow in self-pity.  He relies on his reserves of youthful vigor and stubbornness to get on with it.  Will Shinako be able to get on with her life?  It seems doubtful at the moment.  She certainly owes neither Rikuo or Rou her romantic affection.  But she does owe herself a life beyond Yuu, and right now she’s not trying very hard to live one.  I think Rikuo’s role here may not be to become Shinako’s partner (I just don’t see that in the cards) but to help her move on at last, as a friend.

We’re conditioned to ship in anime, to always look for the romance angle, so that might not be a satisfying turn for some.  The natural inclination is to pair the two teenagers off together, and see Shinako realize the good soul Rikuo is and give him a chance.  But I just don’t think Yesterday o Utatte is that kind of story (I guess we’ll find out).  Whatever it is, it’s enough for me.  I love the restrained, almost-documentary style it employs to explore these lives in depth.  And I love the respect it has for our intelligence (we’re never told who Shinako was cooking for last week, only shown).  As a subject for fiction nothing is more interesting, after all, than life itself…