Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we return once more to Cafe Liebe, with Blume elections settled and Schwesterns firmly solidified. It’s been a bumpy road to this point, as the navigation of personas inherent in our themed cafe has forced basically all of our “students” to reckon with the performances they already adopt in their own lives. Through the ornate rituals of Cafe Liebe, they have found new ways to express their own feelings, whether through embracing its time-honored artifice or realizing how their true intentions stray from its formula.

Cafe Liebe encourages intimacy up to a specific predetermined threshold; there is no love within its walls, only a performance of longing calibrated to the expectations of the crowd. And while you could rightfully argue that media of liberation becoming its own convention is a betrayal of those seeking genuine free expression, it is equally clear that these precise restrictions allowed characters like Kanoko and Mitsuki to feel safe within its walls, cushioned within a world of limits and language they could fully understand. Just like the formative dramas it is based on, Cafe Liebe is a sanctuary of adolescence, a cushioned world where they can play-act the feelings that frighten them, and thereby gain the confidence to embrace their true selves. Let’s see how their journey continues as we return to Yuri is My Job!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re scrambling for good seats at Cafe Liebe, just in time for Yuri is My Job!’s Blume election results to be revealed. Our last episode offered something of a breakthrough in the Sumika-Kanoko drama, though the two are still far from friends. Kanoko was unwilling to abandon her love of Hime, but made it clear to Sumika that it would never be more than that. Kanoko seems to understand that, like the ornate bonds of Liebe Girls Academy, her form of love can only live as an implication; there is no substance to it beyond the fantasy she has invented, and thus she will content herself to live forever in Hime’s shadow.

It’s not exactly a healthy approach to romance, but it at least ameliorated Sumika’s concerns regarding the fate of the cafe. And beyond that, through her conversation with Nene, Sumika was able to mentally redefine Kanoko from a threat to a victim, a girl whose one-sided romance would only end in tears. As she’s so often done in the past, I imagine that’s something Sumika can work into the Cafe Liebe narrative – in fact, isn’t one of the core roles of the elder Schwestern to comfort their little sister, to embrace them and dry their tears after their innocent dreams are denied? I could easily see us proceeding towards a conclusion where a flourish of genuine honesty from Kanoko ends up integrating into the kayfabe of Cafe Liebe, but first, we must crown our new Blume. Let’s get to it!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time! Today we return to Cafe Liebe in a moment of crisis, with the tension between Kanoko and Sumika approaching some kind of breaking point. While Kanoko initially joined the Cafe Liebe staff just to spend more time with Hime, what she has discovered since has proven intolerable. Not only is Hime thriving in this space, she’s even reconnected with her first friend, who seems to share some bond with Hime that Kanoko herself cannot understand. What happened to her Hime, the Hime who secretly despised all others, and who was only willing to share her earnest feelings while nestled against Kanoko’s shoulder? This clearly will not stand!

Kanoko’s perspective is unhealthy, but perfectly understandable. While Hime initially thought she was teaching Kanoko how to get along in society, the lesson Kanoko received was to always rely on her specifically, and to trust in Hime to be her sole confidant in an otherwise hostile world. But in spite of Hime’s cynicism regarding social performances, she’s actually a deeply empathetic person; while Kanoko simply tunes out her surroundings, Hime is always aware of people like Mitsuki or Kanoko, those who need help connecting with others, or a particular space where their personalities can shine. Hime’s personal bonds are a route towards a greater general appreciation for people’s diverse personalities and passions, while Kanoko has made a fortress of her one bond, seeing Hime as the only connection she’ll ever need. That’s obviously unsustainable, meaning the question is really just “how much will Kanoko tear down before she starts to grow up?” Let’s find out!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we are returning to the exclusive halls of Liebe Girls Academy, where dark clouds are currently gathering across the shimmering, verdant fields where our ladies practice their polo and dressage skills. Having attempted to disarm the threat Kanoko represents for Cafe Liebe, Sumika has discovered there is no reasoning with the girl, and that Kanoko’s passionate feelings for Hime have set her against the Schwestern system altogether.

Kanoko’s feelings are understandable: she’s only attached to this cafe because Hime is here as well, and her sole desire is to halt whatever transformation she believes is carrying her friend away from her. Hime is actually growing into a more well-rounded, socially earnest person, but Kanoko desires a monopoly on Hime’s sincerity, and will do everything she can to achieve that. It’s a selfish, one-sided love, but it’s certainly a common motive. On the other hand, I am quite intrigued to learn why Sumika is so attached to this cafe, what it represents for her, and how it reflects her ambitions and self-image. Let’s try and divine how our gyaru senpai really feels as we return to Yuri is My Job!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time! Today I’m eager to stop back in at Cafe Liebe, as our salon employees prepare for the upcoming Blume election. With Hime and Mitsuki having reestablished their friendship, our focus has turned to Hime’s friend Kanoko, who is tentatively confronting her fear of the admittedly intimidating Sumika. Of course, what Kanoko seems to perceive as “gyaru delinquency” is really just an expression of confidence in self; Sumika is happy with who she is, and thus does not feel compelled to mold her personality into precisely one internally coherent shape.

To our gallery of anxious and performance-bound heroines, Sumika’s confidence feels pretty close to a superpower. Hime knows how to please others, but her performance is not authentic to her actual feelings, which she generally keeps tightly buried. Mitsuki only knows how to commit herself to clearly defined tasks, and uses the formalized language of Cafe Liebe to substitute for her lack of casual conversational aptitude. And Kanoko can barely talk at all, only feeling comfortable expressing herself with Hime, and even there hiding the actual nature of her feelings.

Compared to them, Sumika’s comfort in her own skin and unapologetic embracing of her hobbies must indeed feel intimidating – for she has discovered the secret lying beyond the horizon, and understands that all of this adolescent performative roleplaying is only useful insofar as it leads you to a satisfying, authentic self. Fuck the haters, find your people, and let the rest take care of itself. Now let’s get back to the show!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re diving back into the tangled performance of masks that is Yuri is My Job!, as our heroines struggle to discover something approaching intimacy among the performances and expectations of both genre and adolescence. We arrive back after a moment of great victory for Hime and Mitsuki, with the two having simultaneously repaired their friendship and affirmed their validity as Schwestern for the cheering crowd. Though Mitsuki has tremendous difficulty admitting to her feelings, the strictly defined language of Cafe Liebe ultimately served as something like training wheels for true expression, equipping her with the language and confidence necessary to admit she genuinely loves Hime.

Of course, she immediately walked that confession back with a convenient “that was all part of the performance,” but that too is part of why she was able to speak in the first place. To the awkward and uncertain, the itemized emotional beats of genre can be a lifeline, a common language that offers less ambiguity and vulnerability than fickle, unmediated conversation. And it’s not like regular conversation lacks strict conventions – after all, it was Mitsuki’s inability to match that lingo, to downplay her passions and laugh lightly with the crowd, that isolated her in the first place. And while Hime thrives in the superficial conventions that attend adolescent acquaintances, it’s clear that she too is seeking something more, something lasting, honest, and maybe even transformative. Let’s see if our heroines can find it as we return to Yuri is My Job!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I’m eager to return to Cafe Liebe, where it seems Hime and Mitsuki might well be on the verge of an emotional breakthrough. Though Mitsuki is still frankly terrible at expressing herself outside of the formalized confines of Cafe Liebe’s performance, Hime’s declaration that she would “never betray Yano” clearly got through to her, affirming the doubts she was already possessing regarding how their first friendship ended. And in spite of not understanding Mitsuki’s admittedly vague statements, Hime can see the change in her as well, and is beginning to embrace her own genuine emotions.

Of course, genuine emotions are difficult to express at Cafe Liebe, where every idle passion is formalized into a rigid dance, and every statement of longing must meet the approval of a judgmental audience. In its systems of hierarchy and rejection of anything betraying convention, Liebe has turned the once-freeing context of yuri drama into its own form of social confinement, with the online comments of attendees now serving the role that Hime’s classmates performed in grade school.

Transgressive art breaks boundaries and allows unlimited personal expression, but transgressive art turned into an industry (or worse, a fandom) becomes an institution with strict expectations and inarguable internal rules. Mitsuki briefly found solace in the reliability of these rules, but she’s now discovering the feelings she bears towards Hime do not necessarily fit within the interpretation of love demanded by Cafe Liebe. Can Hime save both her relationship with Mitsuki and their performance as Schwestern? Let’s find out!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today we’re diving back into the thorny drama of Yuri is My Job!, having at last borne witness to the full prior relationship of Hime and Mitsuki. Back in grade school, each of them were outsiders of their own kind; Mitsuki was rejected as a too-serious weirdo, and though Hime was popular, she had no one with whom she could share her actual, honest feelings. The two found a brief sanctuary in each other, where Mitsuki could embrace her passions without judgment, and Hime could admit to the ungenerous feelings that simmered beneath her persona. But tragically, while they cared about each other, they never truly understood each other – thus Hime abandoned music to protect Mitsuki from the bullying she already expected, and Mitsuki responded by robbing Hime of the facade she herself couldn’t respect.

Thus we arrive at our current state of affairs, with Hime still traumatized by the consequences of revealing her true self, and Mitsuki seeing Hime as everything she despises about social performances. The two have arrived at Cafe Liebe from opposing poles: Hime sees Liebe’s performances as simply a quirky variation on her own affectation, while Mitsuki takes comfort in the regularity of these interactions, the rules she can internalize such that her passion makes her a star, not an outsider. Each of them has learned to feel ashamed of the person behind the mask, but at Cafe Liebe, they have the chance to hone their performances such that they need never look at their true selves in the mirror. Let’s see how this deeply unhealthy “solution” proceeds!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am eager to return Yuri is My Job!’s fanciful Cafe Liebe, and see how Hime attempts to disentangle her latest foot-in-mouth insertion. She was actually doing quite well last episode, with the accidental reveal of her private performance ultimately resulting in a moment of genuine honesty between her and Mitsuki. Hime was even driven to admit to the past trauma that had convinced her only a flawless, all-encompassing social performance could prevent her from being despised and abandoned; unfortunately, it turned out Mitsuki herself was precisely the person who instigated that trauma, prompting a fresh rift between them.

Nonetheless, even this new conflict seems like a healthy step forward for both of them. Coming to truly know about others’ feelings will inevitably invite friction, the kind of friction that might prompt you to hide within a loveable facade like Hime, or gravitate towards ritualized performances of intimacy like the Cafe Liebe crew. But it is only by continuing to invite that friction that you might find true, earnest companionship, and discover that everyone else is muddling through just as awkwardly as you are. We cling to scripts when we believe everyone else already has one; the truth is, everyone engages in a combination of performance and sincerity every day, all of us seeking an emotional safe harbor for our flawed, imperfect perceptions of self. As with the initial reveal of her performance, Hime has once again ripped off the band-aid accidentally, leaving a raw mark to tell of her painful prior experiences with Mitsuki. This leaves them both more vulnerable than before, but it is only through embracing vulnerability that we might arrive at genuine mutual trust. Let’s see how spectacularly they fail to manage it!

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Hello folks, and welcome back to Wrong Every Time. Today I am eager to return to Cafe Liebe, and see how things are faring for our hapless kohai Hime. After being conscripted into service as a replacement for her manager Mai, Hime swiftly managed to trip over or smash into basically every convention of their fictional girls’ academy. Though she has some vague understanding of the genre territory being explored, the lingo is still foreign to her; she has mastered a precise script of feigned modern-day courtliness, but her affectation bears only a passing resemblance to the assumed calls and responses of Liebe Girls’ Academy.

Of course, that precise formality of assumed language is exactly why Liebe’s customers find this performance so enticing. Hime is talented at improvising in the manner of a genuine social butterfly, but the genre-born assumptions of Liebe flatter a very different audience, comforting those who, like Kanoko, find the vagaries of spontaneous conversation foreign and intimidating. Scripts provided by fiction allow those who have difficulty expressing themselves organically to connect with others; when the rules are so clearly defined, there is little fear of putting your foot in your mouth. And of course, it’s not like organic conversations don’t follow their own unspoken scripts, as Hime’s initial talents well demonstrate. All human interactions are in part a performance of selfhood, and through Cafe Liebe, Yuri is My Job! is consistently demonstrating the differences and nuances of performing for yourself, for the sake of being understood, and for the approval of an assumed audience. Let’s see how Hime fucks it up this time!

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