This week, on “Old Enough”…

That I find this show to be generally wonderful is no newsflash at this point. It’s been growing in my esteem in a pretty steady arc from the beginning, which means it’s quite lofty by now. But this was a really outstanding episode, even so. It had a serving of everything that makes Champignon no Majo the treasure it is. It can be sadder than any anime out there (Ikoku Nikki can rival it at times, of course). But also very funny in a distinctly Champignon way. It’s cheeky in the best sense of that word (much, one might add, as Gakuen Alice was).

Of course, Champignon Witch is also very smart from a plot standpoint. Not just in developing a really interesting premise but in the measured way it does so. And this ep was butter in that respect too. It starts out with Lize overhearing some village children (disobeying their parents by being so close to the Black Forest) singing a song about black witches while playing a game. It’s a good reminder of the way this society has used them as scapegoats (and boogeymen) – when in fact, as we know, they’re doing it an invaluable service. And none more so than Luna, one might say, though that could just be because she’s the only one we’ve observed closely.

At  this point we get a frankly stunning example of Champignon pivoting on a dime from its saddest and most beautiful to pure hilarity. Lize can’t sleep because of a bout of intense sadness – so great he can’t set it down in his diary. He asks Luna what she does if that happens to her, and Luna has an answer at the ready. She keeps her tears in a cup, she says, and uses them to grow “tear mushrooms“. She then uses those to dry and make into a tea to “detox” (don’t worry, it’s caffeine-free!), which she drinks the next time she experiences a bout of existential sadness. Luna repeats the process in an eternal loop, and begins to do so for Lize as well.

I don’t want to delve too deeply into the symbolism here but this is a really lovely notion on so many levels. Not least the character side, as it’s as close as we’ve seen Luna and Lize connect emotionally. This theme – that it’s important for us to keep our sadness inside us rather than try to wish it away – keeps recurring in Champignon Witch for a reason. We draw strength from it so we can face the next round of it, which – life being life – will inevitably come. Luna even serves Claude a does of tear tea (by mistake) with results that would surely leave him aghast.

Then, in a blink, we get one of the funnest chapters of the entire series as Lize sees a picture of two people kissing in one of his books. How much of his conversation with Luna is genuine and how much – as Claude suspects – is Lize working a scam? That’s intentionally left opaque, but there’s no denying that Lize is persistent. Or that he’s abjectly falling in love with Luna. Lize is a teenager after all, on some level at least. The youth he was and the child he is co-exist inside of him, each exerting their emotional influence in their own way. He does manage to steal a kiss – through a magic cloth, and only on the hand – but makes it clear with a directness more befitting his younger self that one day he wants to do what he saw in the book.

Finally, Luna and Claude – it’s inferred that it’s the latter’s idea – give Lize a mission to test his development as a witch. He’s to go on a shopping trip to town (including buying a couple of goats) with only the irreplaceable Minos for company. There are many poisoned creatures in the forest, a reminder of the limitless compassion and kindness Luna offers to the world. As usual Luna and Claude are eavesdropping, and get an earful of just how devoted Lize is to her. The farms and villagers are naturally much more agreeable with Lize than Luna, and things seem to be going well enough. But then a crow swoops in and steals one of the goats, wrapped in a magic cloth to protect it from the toxic rain.

This is where the rubber meets the road, plot-wise. Lize uses the power gifted to him by the spirits to save an insignificant creature, the goat. And worse, then to give comfort to an “abomination” (the crow). The spirits may gift a white witch like Lize their power if they fancy him, but it should never be forgotten that they’re capricious. And their worldview is not the same as Luna’s – in fact, in some respects it’s outright hostile to it. By doing what he does Lize angers them, and cuts off the source of his magical power. But he’s also honoring Luna and the lesson her life teaches, that every creature is worthy of compassion and that it’s the role of witches (black, but that’s the problem) to address the problems caused when things are out of balance.

Balance is indeed a big part of the problem here. It may exist globally in the sense of the black and white witches existing as opposite poles, but individually there is no balance – only the extremes of those poles. But where does that leave Lize, a white witch being trained by a black witch – and one he’s in love with, at that? This is a major problem – maybe the major problem – in Champignon no Majo. But the power of love is an irresistible force in this mythology, and when we finally see the first embrace between Luna and Lize it feels like a cathartic moment. Not just for the both of them, but for us as well.