To paraphrase myself from Aharen days, everybody needs someone who looks at them the way these two look at each other.

No two relationships are alike.  And of course, no two series about relationships are either (not good ones, anyway – the more generic they are the less true that is).  In a sense, what makes Kimi wa Houkago Insomnia unique kind of goes from general to specific.  It starts out as the overall tone – the vibe as I referred to it a couple weeks ago.  Then the circumstances – dealing with something painful two people share.  Now we’re getting down to the grim details, and if you’re a veteran of this genre they’re fairly grim indeed.

What’s the import of Isaki deciding not to wear a yukata for the summer festival and its attendant meteor event prep and fireworks?  And then, deciding to go home and don one after all?  Those who see shadows in the corners of dark rooms will certainly see some here, but we can say for sure that she presented quite a vision to Ganta when he got a look at her.  Ganta is majime as usual, and Anamizu certainly  does her part to get those ballroom flyers handed out.  But it’s Tao who once more chalks up the wingman of the year points, grabbing the remaining stack out of Gan-chan’s hand and reminding him that the fireworks – and Isaki – are his priority tonight.

It’s at this point that the revelations really start to flow.  It’s clear Isaki has reached some sort of nexus point here – her trust level in Ganta having leveled up to where she’s ready to share her secrets.  She tells him she’s so nimble at moving in dark corridors because she got lots of practice in the hospital as a kid.  Ganta is no dummy, and he won’t have forgotten her cryptic crosswalk comment, but he lets that one go unchallenged for the moment.  And she lets his agreement with her “this time a cute girl’s next to you” comment go equally unchallenged, though the moment certainly wasn’t lost on her.

This vibe was definitely building to something, but naturally it’s at that moment that the others arrive (late) to watch the fireworks, so that’s what everyone does.  Lots of photos are taken and shouts of “Tamaya!” uttered, then everyone bar the ones who really matter heads home.  They stop off in the observatory (where Kurashiki-sensei has swapped the stolen fan for a wind chime), where for the first time (and no, the symbolism is not subtle) the roof is opened and the moonlight allowed inside.  And when Isaki defends her decision to stand on a chair and stare out at the town beneath them with “I’d never die from something like this” it’s pretty clear that her cards are now on the table.

As reasons for insomnia go, that’s about as good as it gets.  Even apparently healthy people sometimes lie awake at night, thinking about the possibility that they won’t wake up in the morning.  For Isaki, who defied the odds by surviving a heart condition, that fear is far more immediate.  We still don’t know the full reason behind Ganta’s own insomnia (assuming even he does) – his mother seems to be involved in some way – but he immediately transforms into Isaki’s knight-protector.  As confessions of love go, “I’ll stay up all night talking to you whenever the fear gets to be too much” is about as genuine and romantic as you’ll hear.

Speaking of romantic, what happens next just ups the ante.  Isaki doesn’t take Ganta up on his offer, and he wonders if she considers him unreliable.  But the truth is she doesn’t want to be the one to wake him up on the rare night he actually might fall asleep, and she worries about her strict parents (or “bimbo” sister) overhearing them talking.  Ganta’s answer is straight out of “written in the stars” territory – a radio station (why “Fumin” one wonders) for her ears only.  And she soon reciprocates, in a hushed voice under the covers.  Just two kids reaching out and holding hands through the atmosphere until one and then both fall asleep.  It doesn’t get much more heartfelt (no pun intended) than that.