Kitsutsuki Tanteidokoro – 11

It’s sort of crept up on you, But Ishikawa Takuboku has become one of the most fascinating anime characters of 2020.  In hindsight showing us right from the beginning that he was doomed (for those of us not already aware of the history) was a shrewd move.  I think it bought him a little more leeway when he was thoroughly insufferable before becoming ill (it’s just human nature), and it’s cast the last few episodes in a really intriguing light.  This is a man who knows he’s going to die, there’s no question about that, and he’s not dealing with it in a mature, enlightened way.  He’s struggling with it as most young, self-absorbed people would – not at all gracefully.  This is not a fairy tale.

Part of the deal with Kitsutsuki Tanteidokoro is that the mysteries are probably the weakest part of the series, as often seems to be the case with mystery anime.  As such when the series slips back into mystery mode it tends to lose a half-step, and this week’s ep is no exception.  But it still manages to be engaging because of the interplay going on against that backdrop.  Ishikawa is seemingly making an actual effort to stop exploiting Kindaichi’s kindness (and infatuation) but he just can’t help himself.  He’s also trying to write a poetry anthology, clearly because he wants to leave something for posterity and knows he has no gift for novels.  But the muse has abandoned him, as he stares into the abyss and is forced to put his own life and work in perspective.

In a sense this isn’t such a bad deal for Kindaichi-san, as he comes to sort of enjoy helping out with the detective work.  Still, he is terrible at it – which is why it’s a good thing he enlists first Hagiwara and then Nomura as “sacrifices” in his efforts.  The case itself involves a string of kidnappings from families in a local merchants association, tied in with the spurned mistress of the merchant who’s hired Ishikawa.  To the extent that anyone solves it it’s Ishikawa, though in truth the case seems to resolve itself – with one major wrinkle (spotted by Ishikawa)  that calls that resolution into question.

In the end, Ishikawa does manage to write one poem – a poem about his friend, drunk and stumbling the night before.  Kindaichi is quite affronted, but this is as close to an admission of genuine feeling as we’ve seen from Ishikawa in the entire series.  I don’t think we’re going to see some kind of deathbed conversion from Ishikawa next week – he’s a scoundrel and I suspect he’s going to stay one right to the end.  But it wouldn’t be amiss to have him gain an ability to understand his life and what Kindaichi meant to him – to have one person who always believed in him, no matter what he did (and to whom).  That might just be enough to give him a small measure of peace as he prepares to cast off the mortal coil and embrace the greatest mystery of them all.

Fruits Basket 2nd Season – 12

We’re solidly into material the original Fruits Basket anime never adapted, of course, and it’s an interesting experience to see it play out on-screen after all these years.  It has its peaks and valleys to be sure – that’s just Furuba in a nutshell – but this is certainly authentic to the manga experience.  TMS continues to do a very serviceable, workmanlike job – relentlessly competent.  The nature of the adaptation dictates that it isn’t taking a lot of risks but it’s ably fulfilling the job it set out to do – adapt the source material with monastic faithfulness.  When it stumbles its the fault of the material, not the production.  With this kind of adaptation you take the bitter with the sweet.

Generally speaking the stretch of the manga being covered this season doesn’t have a lot of real troughs, fortunately.  Even the Kaguya episode last week was tolerable by her standards.  This week’s events fall somewhere in-between really essential material and a side story.  This isn’t the main trio or Momiji or even Hiro and Kisa, but Hatori, Mayuko, and Kana’s story is one of more arresting of the satellite subplots.  Hatori is generally such a lump that it can be hard to see why Mayu is so nuts for him, frankly, but no one could say that this trio’s story doesn’t have pathos.

I’m always fascinated by Shigure’s role, because he seems to have his hand in every pot without ever being one of the ingredients himself.  He’s a troll, a meddler, sometimes a protector.  He seems to intentionally irritate Akito more than anyone else (with someone else usually the one caught in the blowback), and he’s obviously playing some sort of long game with the overarching Sohma drama.  As far as this subset goes he actually ends up dating Mayu for a while (after one of the least charming pickup lines in history), but it’s obviously a means to an end for both of them.

It’s hard to know just what to make of Hatori and Mayu, really.  They certainly deserve a chance to be happy, but Hatori was deeply in love with Kana and Akito put that to the torch in a ruthless manner.  Is it really so simple for him to transfer his affections to Mayu – and should be happy to be with someone who may be settling for her?  Maybe under the circumstances that wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, but it’s hardly the stuff of storybook romances.  Love is never simple when a Sohma is involved.