Hello all, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’ll be continuing our journey through the achingly anxious courtship of Adachi and Shimamura, two individual messes who somehow get exponentially messier in each other’s vicinity. Last episode, Shimamura managed to drag Adachi along on a karaoke expedition with her other friends, though it really didn’t do much to break the ice between them. Instead, Adachi learned a very different lesson – that Shimamura herself is somewhat distant from her friends, in spite of their generally easy rapport.
Though they genuinely enjoy each other’s company, Shimamura and her friends are more friends of convenience and proximity, the sort of friends you naturally accumulate in high school, but tend to drift from as you grow into your adult self. Shimamura’s friends embody the liminal stasis that she has recognized in herself, while Adachi sits on the other side, drawing Shimamura towards a new potential identity. Shimamura is scared by this process, but still enchanted by Adachi; though Adachi is too insecure to focus on anything outside her own feelings, her presence is forcing Shimamura to grapple with these emergent feelings, and perhaps discover who she truly wants to be.
For now though, I presume they will continue to flail past each other in their hapless, adorable way. Without further ado, let’s dive into another episode of Adachi and Shimamura!
Episode 5
Looks like we’ve got a Christmas episode coming. We open with Adachi rushing towards Shimamura in a cinematic letterbox format, emphasizing that this is likely some sort of fantasy. And then that goddamn space child Yashiro pops up
I appreciate how both Adachi and Shimamura’s fantasies are always a little off-kilter. It feels extremely relatable that they can’t even imagine themselves in idealized romantic situations, because their weird brains always get in the way
“Lately it’s been so cold on the second floor of the gym, so we haven’t been going up there.” Their relationship is so fragile, and currently prolongs itself through a collection of impermanent routines that sometimes bring them in contact with each other. They each value the relationship and want to see each other, but actively admitting that would alter the nature of the relationship itself, making it more real than either of them are necessarily comfortable with. Its very shapelessness is actually part of its current appeal, but that sure makes it hard to plan a date
Adachi has got it so bad, my god
In the classroom, all faces except Adachi and Shimamura’s are blank. A fine way to convey Adachi’s preoccupation, while simultaneously reducing any visual clutter that might draw our attention away from the actual drama. When you put something on the screen, you are telling your audience it is important – in light of this, removing objects which draw attention without purpose is generally a good idea
The distinction between their perspectives is hilarious. Shimamura is always hyper-intellectualizing Adachi’s actions and her own responses to them, while Adachi just perpetually like WHAT IF SHE ASKED ME TO CARRY HER LIKE A PRINCESS. WHAT IF WE TOOK A NAP TOGEAAAHHHH OH MY GOD
Adachi is ready to pounce after school, but Shimamura’s friends strike first
Shimamura “playfully” teases Adachi about applying herself at school, but of course Adachi is applying herself specifically because she wants to be near Shimamura, so she immediately blushes and goes silent. Shimamura has a natural tendency towards provocation that tends to knock Adachi flat
The most aggressive play Adachi can manage is “let’s study together.” It’s not quite “let’s spend Christmas together,” but she’s trying!
The character art feels particularly impressive this episode – the rounded nature of their features is amplified to facilitate more fluid movement, while their hair moves with a real sense of volume
Shimamura’s mom seems to share her deadpan sense of humor
This episode also feels hornier than usual, with even more of this franchise’s usual preoccupation with boobs and thighs. It’s a truism across anime that the most fluid cuts are generally gonna be either action or fanservice, and sometimes both
Shimamura’s friends continue to be hopelessly gay for each other
Adachi swings zero for two on mentioning Christmas, and this time settles for asking Shimamura what kind of kid she was
Shimamura offers the hilariously useless “my hair was shorter,” which still ends up triggering Adachi’s horny censors. As for her own childhood, Adachi says she was basically the same, which isn’t surprising
Adachi states that “I’m particular about whose hand I hold” before recognizing it as a vast declaration of sincere emotion. Oh no, not sincere emotion! Now Shimamura has all the power in the conversation!
Ah, being a teenager, where the most dangerous thing you can do is say how you really feel
It’s also clear Adachi is getting even more infatuated over time. Just being around Shimamura is sending her into a fit of vapors, with transparent Shimamuras floating all around the screen. She can barely see through her Shimamura haze
This episode’s improved character acting works nicely for its Adachi focus, given she normally expresses herself most clearly through her physical awkwardness
As Shimamura wakes up, the show pulls a neat trick of frame modulation, by basically removing any in-betweens from Adachi’s flailing response. As a result, her movement is intentionally jerky, emphasizing her sense of panic
Oh my god, there is so much panic in Adachi’s eyes as Shimamura moves to her lap. Framing this whole episode from Adachi’s perspective has turned it into a perpetual comedy of errors
Oh, so close! Adachi doesn’t manage “will you spend Christmas with me,” but she at least gets the word Christmas out this time, if only in the form of “how do you normally spend Christmas”
The relentlessly cynical Shimamura claims she never believed in Santa Claus
“I guess we both sorta sucked at childhood.” This is a fascinating conversation. Taken directly, Shimamura’s words are a fair assessment of both of them – whether it was Adachi’s social anxiety or Shimamura’s alienated perspective, neither of them seem like they would have been your generic happy-go-lucky kids. But beyond that, this conversation also reflects the fundamental complexity of their current emotional moment, and why they are each so paralyzed by their shifting self-image. Your teenage years are generally the first time you have a “past self” to look back on and recognize as fundamentally different from your current self. But that original shift occurs without you noticing; in contrast, once you arrive at your teenage years, you generally develop the self-consciousness to be aware of your personal presentation, along with a sense of insecurity about how that presentation is perceived by others. As a result, your second stage of personal evolution doesn’t slip past your notice – instead, it frequently becomes an anxious fixation, like it so clearly has for Shimamura
We at last jump to Shimamura’s perspective, as she lists off all the weird things Adachi has been doing recently. It’s fun to spend time in either of their heads, for very different reasons – Adachi is just a continuous series of emotional pratfalls, while Shimamura’s deadpan wit emphasizes the hilarity of Adachi’s personal melodrama
At last, Shimamura takes the direct approach, and just drags Adachi up to the roof to ask what’s up
“In about ten days or so…” Adachi has now come up with the brilliant strategy of asking to spend Christmas together without actually asking for it, by just setting a meeting for a day that coincidentally happens to be Christmas
Next up, she just arrives at Shimamura’s door before school
Nice portrayal of their nervous posture as Adachi prepares to ask the question, though it does lean a bit into this show’s general issue with voyeuristic framing
“If I asked her why Christmas, or why me, I felt like the backbone of our relationship would get bent out of shape.” Shimamura senses the same thing I mentioned at the beginning of the episode – their current relationship explicitly relies on its ambiguity, something that would be easy and potentially disastrous to dispel. Asking Shimamura to spend time with her on Christmas can only mean one thing, but if neither of them mention that thing, they might still be able to maintain this stasis
This episode is also underlining how Shimamura’s feelings are categorically quite different from Adachi’s. Actually acknowledging themselves as a romantic pair might not work, because Adachi clearly feels a strong physical attraction to Shimamura, whereas Shimamura is more reserved in her feelings, and seemingly already satisfied with their current arrangement
And in fact, Shimamura only becomes comfortable with this “date” when Adachi destroys it through qualifiers, emphasizing that she’s just lonely and wants to hang out with a friend
And Done
Oof, what a brutal conclusion to that episode! Most of this episode was pure lovey-dovey Adachi hilarity, as she danced around the big Christmas question, and generally made a lovestruck mess of herself. It was all very charming, earnest stuff, which made the punchline of that conclusion hit that much harder. Shimamura clearly does not feel the same way about Adachi as Adachi does about her; there’s no physical infatuation for her, and not even a clear sense that she’s romantically attracted, more than just confused and curious about her friend. Their relationship is built on uneven expectations that each of them can sense are coming to a collision point, even as they do everything they can to maintain their current bond. We’re in for some thorny emotions ahead, and I’m eager to see it all play out!
This article was made possible by reader support. Thank you all for all that you do.