Boy, as that niche shows go, they don’t get much more “that” than this. Kujima Utaeba Ie Hororo checks pretty much all the boxes. Pure slice-of-life, very quirky, heartfelt, beautiful soundtrack. And you can add massively underrated to that list. I think this series is really quite wonderful, starting with the performances by the two leads. It’s a testament to the appeal of short manga, because it can get a full adaptation in a single cour with no changes needed. And it’s the sort of manga that would seriously struggle to get more than one cour, which is why so many of these kinds of series end up being read the manga advertisements.

Of all the many faces of anime and manga, this sort of series may be the most distinctly Japanese of the lot. You don’t see this sort of story in other mediums very often, to say the least. And it’s fitting that Kujima is quite clearly zeroing in on mono no aware as it nears its conclusion. So many of the rituals the Japanese hold dear – cherry blossoms, fireflies, autumn leaves – are expressions of mono no aware at their core. The diversion to the yamazakura here was not coincidental – it fit perfectly with the mood of the moment.

If there’s a single quality to this show that sets it apart from others of the niche, for me it’s that underlying sadness in the family dynamic. It’s done in such a low-key way, and it’s not like there are any great tragedies at play here. Arata’s parents are almost unbelievably nice and understanding people. And it’s not like he’s an anti-social kid or being bullied or anything. But there’s a sense of “alone together” loneliness that I suspect exists in a lot of broadly content families. It’s a quiet sort of melancholy, nothing one can’t live with – but it’s always there. And for Arata, Kujima has been the antidote for that.

So yeah, I really feel for Arata when he’s acting out at the start of this episode. He’s a good little soldier most of the time – certainly for his brother. He finally felt happy and the reason for that is going away, and he’s pouting like the child he is. He’s entitled – he’s just a pup after all. None of this is Kujima’s fault – they’re just doing what comes natural. But they still feel bad. Makoto seems like she’s always watching out for Arata, and a chance sighting outside tips her off that he’s feeling down. So she and her grandpa invite Arata and Kujima for a hanami under the yamazakura on their mountain (must be nice to own a mountain).

Again, this is as pure mono no aware as it gets. And Arata takes the right message from it, telling Makoto he’s just glad to see Kujima happy. Back home, Mom and Dad (see above, incredibly nice) decide they’re going to do a family photo with Kujima. I mean, it’s pretty clear they do see Kujima as a member of their family now. But there are obvious issues here, which Mom decides (clearly, this is genetic in the Kouda family) that it can be passed off as someone in an animal suit. A suit from Dad’s work, which he wants to commemorate with a photo. Honestly that’s not really going to hold up under any serious analysis, but this is where you trust people to mind their own business.

The scene at the photographers is pretty hilarious all the way around. It doesn’t take long for Kujima to blow their cover, but the photographer was already deeply suspicious about this weird situation. Suguru, unsurprisingly, is unable to crack a smile (“You’re a bit stiff” – photographer-san is a master of understatement) so Kujima orders the photographer to do something funny. That in itself is funny enough to loosen everyone up, and Suguru would muster a smile here just to spite Kujima I suspect. In the end a photo is taken, and it joins the origami-Kujima proudly on the table in the entrance hallway.

So that takes us to next week’s finale. And I have a sneaking suspicion it’s going to be a rough day for my allergies. I was already feeling it a few times here to be honest – again, everything being so understated just makes the poignancy that much more of a gut-punch. Maxim awaits, and a migratory bird has to do their thing – there’s no avoiding this, I don’t think. The best we can hope for is a promise of a return next winter – I mean, migration goes both ways, doesn’t it? Migratory birds have extraordinary homing ability, and Kujima certainly has two places now that he can call home.