Oregairu S3 – Episode 10

After three seasons of personal revelation and emotional catharsis, is it really going to be Iroha who fixes everything? The girl whose name is a synonym for chaos, who has loudly and proudly declared her total self-interest at every opportunity, and who seems to take pride in never learning from her mistakes? The girl with the psychological profile of a common housecat, who will happily push your full glass off the table while maintaining eye contact the entire time? Iroha is going to save us?

Well, desperate times call for unusual heroes, I suppose. And to be fair, it’s clear that Iroha has been dedicating herself to genuine self-improvement all season long, having been genuinely inspired by the ambitions of Hachiman and his friends. Frankly, it seems like Iroha has actually raced ahead of Hachiman’s crew in self-actualization, unburdened as she is by their paralyzing weight of self-doubt. Yukino still sees herself as an appendage of her family, and Hachiman lacks the confidence to challenge her directly, so I suppose it’s Iroha’s turn to lead the drama for a change. With high school’s end approaching, let’s return to Oregairu!

Episode 10

“Gallantly, Shizuka Hiratsuka Moves Forward.” Well at least Sensei is making some progress

We open on Iroha and Yukino going over the final prom preparations. To be honest, I’d sort of forgotten we actually have to have the prom, and not just earn the right to put it on. But as a clear representation of high school’s bittersweet conclusion, prom is a fine place to end this series

“I’ve got minions from the soccer club taking care of all the other odd jobs.” I love that she outright calls her sycophants “minions” even when they’re right in the room. Bless Iroha

As Hachiman is assigned to be the sound tech, Yukino is incapable of meeting his eye. In spite of her declared determination, she can’t sit comfortably with the choices she’s made

It’s been interesting, feeling my relationship with this series change over the years. Back when the first season came out, I was just close enough to high school to still feel some personal connection with Hachiman’s frustrations, enough so to feel ecstatic that a show was so accurately capturing his experience. A decade on, those experiences are distant enough that my relationship to them mostly focuses on the link between their sharpness and their ephemerality. We love and hate so ferociously in adolescence, putting our entire souls into our feelings, because they are the first passionate feelings we’ve ever had. I can no longer resonate with Hachiman’s self-aggrandizing bitterness, and am more simply happy to see this cast loving and losing with such intensity, knowing they’re building fond memories regardless of the outcome. Growing older is weird

Yukino hands Hachi a mic headset, reminding both of them of their easy familiarity at the end of the first season. Hachiman actually seems far more comfortable than Yukino at the moment, as if he’s better able to accept her decision than she is

Really interesting seeing them actively navigating their comfort levels like this. Hachiman is accustomed to performing small acts of kindness for his friends, but is also trying to respect Yukino’s new boundaries, and so keeps apologizing for things that don’t require apology. Meanwhile, Yukino seems to be kicking herself for creating this awkward atmosphere, and is thus cracking softball jokes to try and ease the tension

And of course, Iroha was spying on them, and immediately applauds Hachiman for talking normally with Yukino. She really can’t help herself

Hachiman reflects that he’s most comfortable talking business, and Iroha takes this opportunity to absolutely flambé him, speaking dismissively of boys who use entirely functional, project-oriented conversations to pretend like they’re actually becoming friends. Fuck, I do still remember that tactic – conversation is conversation, right, and talking is what friends do? Iroha takes no prisoners

“I don’t mind hanging out, but anything beyond that, we’ll have to wait until all this is over.” Iroha’s “I’m sorry I can’t go out with you” speech has now shifted all the way to “fine, I’ll go out with you, but only when this project is over.” Hachiman still doesn’t seem to have noticed, though

“Spare me. Not another guy who doesn’t listen…” Bless Hachiman, so confident in his own loathsomeness that he misses an outright proposal

Iroha asks if he wants to continue service club work next year, and he says “that’s up to the president to decide.” In response, Iroha just stares at him. By this point, she’s accustomed to having to ignore his initial deflections in order to have any real conversation with him

“You can help out even if you aren’t part of a club.” It really does seem like Iroha has combined her initial confidence with her new lessons to surge ahead of Hachiman and the others. Why do we need contrived excuses to do the things we want to do? Why can’t we just embrace what we love proudly?

And she reiterates the offer that would have saved all of them in season two: join the student council as a group, and retain their current relationship. Knowing Hachiman’s inability to genuinely reach for what he wants, Iroha adds that she’ll give him “the perfect excuse” to maintain this relationship. She really is trying to be the one that saves them

Yui and Hikki are generally good at talking without artifice, but the act of asking Hikki to dance requires a bit of “tee hee, isn’t this silly” performance. When you’re nervous about what you really want, making a joke of it is a convenient way to get it out in the air with fewer consequences, since you can always take it back as a joke

“Sorry, I’m just not used to the idea of looking up at you.” With the two talking via headsets, the nostalgia of their last collaboration this way brings them both back towards that easy camaraderie. The two just like each other too much to hide it, as much as their mutual social awkwardness and various obligations can make it hard for them to sometimes interact

“I expect you to fulfill that wish.” Aw shit. So does Yukino really want Hachiman to save her from herself?

God, Yukino and her mother’s interactions are tense. The two go through a whole dance of social formality before her mom can just congratulate her on a job well done

And Haruno makes a perfectly Haruno play, revealing that Yukino actually wants to spearhead events like this in a professional capacity. On the one hand, this is almost like helping her sister, since she’s seizing on the momentum here to further her sister’s position; on the other hand, she’s calling her sister out in front of her mother and classmates, putting her on the spot in the most dramatic way possible. It wouldn’t be Haruno if her gifts didn’t come with thorny edges

Though her mom accepts Yukino’s ambitions, Haruno does not. After all, as Haruno puts it, Yukino is essentially aiming to replace Haruno herself as their father’s chosen successor

It’s both selfish and understandable. It seems clear Haruno never wanted to be the successor, but after spending her entire life being groomed for the position, having it swept away from her because her little sister wants it now has got to sting as well

As Yui reflects on her time in the service club, it’s clear she’s specifically talking about her feelings towards Hikki. His presence resulted in a lot of difficult times, but also made the happy times that much brighter. She has learned to accept and love all of him

Yukino says it’s time to end the group, and Yui says if that’s what Yukino wants, that’s okay. Hikki is saved from having to answer by Iroha’s appearance, and uses that opportunity to literally flee the scene

Though Yukino is committed to ending it, it’s Hachiman that has to individually pry her fingers from his coat. One final gesture to help realize her dreams, by removing himself from them

“I don’t know if we’re close enough to be considered friends.” “That is a truly amazing answer to hear this late in the game.” To be honest, I’m starting to relate to Haruno’s perspective at this point. Enough with the bullshit evasions, just commit to what you want. Why should her future be determined by children who can’t even reach out for what’s in front of them?

“I’ve done my own share of deceiving for twenty years now, so I know all too well… my entire life has been nothing but a sham.” And it does seem like she genuinely wants her sister and Hachiman to avoid this trap. She’s gotten very good at pretending she’s happy with things she never wanted, and she hates seeing these two accept that same solution

“I wonder if anything genuine… actually exists.” A line that intentionally draws back to Hachiman’s season two speech. Yukino’s consolation across this season has actually drawn them further away from honest communication, honest friendship. Haruno embodies the end of this road: total disillusionment with the idea of honest relationships

Of course, Haruno herself is only twenty years old. The thing about life is that it lasts a while; she’s sure to have many emotional cycles herself in the future, so long as she leaves herself open to them

And then Sensei shows up, dragging Hikki out for batting cages and cigarettes

In response to hearing Haruno’s perspective, Sensei offers the pointed “that certainly sounds like what Haruno would say.” She can see Haruno’s psychological cage as clearly as Hachiman’s

“Can you honestly pack all of your feelings into a single word?” God damn this show. I feel like this whole season was a result of Haruno saying they’re codependent, and all the resolution we needed was Sensei saying “what? No, that’s stupid”

And Done

Alright, finally we’re getting somewhere. To be honest, the simplicity of this episode’s final solution feels like a bit of an acknowledgment of this season’s general holding pattern. Rather than moving forward through a variety of psychological revelations, our leads have been trapped in stasis by Haruno’s diagnosis, lacking the confidence or experience to deny her claims of codependency. But in truth, Hachiman should always have been treating Haruno’s words the way he now knows to treat his own words from the first season: as those of a person driven by loneliness and cynicism, who finds some comfort in believing the world reflects their feelings. Our young leads know the world is not like that in their hearts, but desperately need some sort of authority figure to validate their fragile feelings. With Sensei at last having provided that role, I’m dearly hoping they at last reach for the happiness they’ve earned!

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