Sekaiichi Hatsukoi Finale

After (finally) watching the last few episodes of Sekaiichi Hatsukoi, I find myself at a bit of a loss. Despite my own misgivings about the series, I had some expectation for a final resolution. And what did I get? Honestly, a pretty big disappointment – worse than all the corny lines Tori kept giving Chiaki, or the fanservice that I endured every episode with a grimace.

Episode 10 was the last episode following Chiaki and Tori, which gave some vague resolution. Yuu almost got the opportunity to confess his feelings to Chiaki – who remained obliviously naive until the end – but was prematurely interrupted. Honestly, this part really frustrated me. Although this is fiction, it is still irritating to see Yuu struggling to express himself – albeit coming on a little too strong – to Chiaki, who is anxious to interrupt him. Just because he disrupts Yuu’s almost-confession won’t change the fact that the feelings are still there. And this idiocy is what reall perturbs me at the characters.

In Episode 11-12, we see the “finale” between Takano and Onodera. Some finale. We solidifed several questions, cropping up more mysteries without answers in the end. Such as Onodera having a fiance while being in a relationship with Takano, and that Takano knew Onodera before he ever confessed his feelings while they were in high school. And Yokozawa was being his usual nosy, overprotective self.

Augh, I’ve really held it in all these episodes, sympathizing with the characters to some degree. In the end, I just can’t bring myself to like almost any of them. Maybe because they are all in the stereotypically formed category of “uke” and “seme,” where the qualities of either do not intersect. That is to say, why do all the characters feel so much alike?

What really gets under my skin is the final lines we see in the last episode, which echoes the same thing Onodera said from the beginning. “This isn’t love! This isn’t love! This isn’t love! I will never admit that this is love!” Which wonderfully sums up the progress that the plot made from beginning to end: absolutely no progress whatsoever.

Why can’t Mizushiro Setona’s works be animated? Then, rather than complaining about a series riddled with flaws and imperfections, I could be fangirling with the rest. And now I will probably be burned at the stake by Sekaiichi Hatsukoi fans.

Let’s just hope there is a sequel – if, for no other reason, to clear up the misunderstandings that were never solved in the first series.

I take back what I said at first, by the way, Junjou Romantica was better.

-Lustri