"...and then she strove to be contended with that hardness, and to require nothing. That is the path we all like when we set out on our abandonment of egoism - the path of martyrdom and endurance, where the palm branches grow, rather than the steep highway of tolerance, just allowance, and self-blame, where there are no leafy honours to be gathered and worn."
-George Eliot, The Mill on the Floss
I recall the precise moment I fell in love with
Hourou Musuko. It was Saori Chiba in the empty church, asking with tender conceitedness for what she believes she wants but by providence has been denied:
“Dear God, please bless that idiot Saisho with some brains, and a pox. And let Nitori be Juliet. And instead of Takatsuki…"
(Pause)
...let me be Romeo.
With a few brushstrokes, a couple of lines and the right setting, Saori’s character is laid bare. At first her words would seem to be an indictment, but the gentle notes playing in the background say otherwise: there is pity for this poor sinner who has come to pray unwittingly for more grief. She is so lost she does not even know what to ask for. With this, commentary becomes sympathy, and we are reminded that the point of
Hourou Musuko is not just to understand people, but to understand them for the right reasons.
The story that follows is not a heroic journey. It is a mundane one. The beginning is not infamy and the end not apotheosis; it is no Pilgrim’s Progress. Saori Chiba is nothing more and nothing less than an adolescent little girl at a critical time in her life. This, however, is the strength of Hourou Musuko; it is humanizing rather than archetypal, and there is a quiet power in how it appreciates its characters just as they are. I hope to borrow a little of that here.
Cursing Those That Bless You
"It was a lot of fun, at first. The three of us going to school together, taking pictures together, just Nitori and me… and Takatsuki. I was the first to notice that Nitori was meant to dress like a girl. And yet, before I knew it, Takatsuki was the one perpetually at his side. Then I noticed things getting awkward between them… but before I could blink, they’d patched things up. I hate..." - Saori Chiba
Saori was the first one to be aware of Nitori’s deepest desires. She was always paying attention to his
[1, pronouns] needs, ready to act on them, support them. She loves him, single-mindedly and without reserve, and it should be obvious to anyone that she has first claim on Nitori’s affection in return… and then he chose Takatsuki. She hates…
Not Nitori. She could never hate Nitori. Her first introduction is unequivocal on this point: ignoring all decorum or subtlety, she will smite those who threaten him. He is a pure, special person and those who would harm such a soul deserve swift judgement at her hands. Knowing that they would not accept his true self only heightens her vigilant anger. Childish, obnoxious, and unkind, she hates them all.
...I won’t do anything weird this time…
There is one among these, though, who kindles a special ire: Takatsuki. Capable and cool, she is admired by everybody. Not only this, but despite all the positive regard she receives Takatsuki is not conceited about any of it. She is simply kind and is willing to put her good nature to work for others
[2]. At least, that’s what everybody sees. Saori, though, knows the truth. Takatsuki is just nice because her circumstances have made it easy; if she wasn’t so blithely easy-going and everybody didn’t treat her well that attitude would vanish. That she leads Nitori on, going out alone and dressing up together, shows how insincere she
truly is. She should stop messing around so Nitori can choose somebody else. Having everything but not deserving it,
Saori really hates Takatsuki.
...it’s not fair…
Yet for some reason Nitori is still friends with Takatsuki, still has feelings for her even. Well, Saori will show Nitori what it means to love and support properly. When the class vote for the cultural festival comes up, she will have the courage to volunteer in front of everybody a genderbent play. It might not be the story that she wants, but it is surely the one Nitori desires, and since he cannot risk asking for himself she will do it in his stead. Unlike others,
she will sacrifice for those she cares about. That’s really what she hates: when people can’t get over themselves.
...you’re a boy...
Now, at last, she has Nitori all to herself as they write the script together. Just like she wanted…and just like what he must have wanted too. How could he not enjoy spending time with her after all she’s done for him? If only their idiot teacher Saisho didn’t ask for more volunteers to join them. How could he be so utterly oblivious to how other people felt? She isn’t sure if he’s even worth hating or just holding in contempt, turning her face away as he speaks so he knows just how poorly she regards his pretense at being helpful.
And all this righteousness makes Saori Chiba the most unhappy character in the cast.
What is Saori’s problem? Takatsuki doesn’t get it. She knows that Saori loves Nitori, and that his choice caused a rift between them, but she had hoped that maybe in time things would cool down. After all, it’s not like she’s dating Nitori; her refusal should have diffused the situation, not inflamed it. Yet for some reason Saori’s anger has not abated. By happenstance finding herself alone with Saori, Takatsuki tries again:
Takatsuki: “I heard the drama club wants Nitori.”
Saori: “Yes, I know. They approached me too.” (Flatly)
Takatsuki: “What?! Amazing! It makes sense, though. You’re an amazing actress. It’s amazing how talented you both are.”
If you’re going to get Saori’s attention, start with Nitori.
She won’t ignore you then. However, Saori won’t give her rival the the pleasure of being the bearer of good news, and replies with a dismissive casualness that robs any joy from the messenger… only to add just as lifelessly that she was considered too.
This is the chance Takatsuki has needed. An offhanded comment like that about one’s own ability is obviously begging to be generously contradicted. Everybody likes positive regard, and by directing attention away from herself and lavishing it on Saori it’s the perfect way to show she doesn’t hold a grudge. The praise isn’t empty either; Saori really is talented, and while Takatsuki may have played it up a little much, not being much of an actress herself, she honestly does believe what she says. Naturally Saori will see this.
Saori: “How can you throw around the word ‘amazing’ like that?”
Takatsuki: “Huh?”
Throughout the praise
Saori had remained facing toward the mirror, surreptitiously watching Takatsuki as she spoke. Now in rebuttal she turns a quarter turn with her head only, enough to let Takatsuki know she is being spoken to but without giving her the dignity of being fully acknowledged. Takatsuki, this whole while facing Saori properly, just as is her character, is left disoriented as she can feel the hostility mounting again. What did she do wrong?
There, that was better; Saori can't have misunders...
Saori: “Let’s say you wanted to join the drama club, but Nitori and I were the only ones invited. Would you feel the same?” (Averting her eyes toward the mirror)
Takatsuki: “H-Huh?” (Saori gives Takatsuki another inscrutable look then returns her eyes forward)
Saori: “In other words. If you’re actually able to admire someone who can easily do the things you wish you could, that’s truly amazing. (pause) I can’t do it.”
(Saori’s face creases into frustration near tears)
Saori: “Though I hate to admit it.”
(Seeing only her reflection in the mirror, Saori concludes)
Saori: “That’s why I hate you. Sorry.”And with this she walks off stage.
The book that Saori struck the jeering boy with was
Anne of Green Gables, a story about an orphan girl who is sent to a farm on accident in place of a boy. Anne is an unconventional child, and though intelligent and sensitive is nonetheless proud and quick-tempered: when Gilbert Blythe touches a nerve she retaliates by
bringing her school writing slate down on his head. Despite these trials, though, she is eventually able to win over the hearts of everybody by her own spirited disposition and innate goodness.
Saori Chiba is living out such a story in her own head, her own personal drama of which she is author and star actress. Its heroine’s principle virtue? Selflessness in the service of love. Anne merely struck Blythe for herself, but Saori did so to protect Nitori.
She really does love him as dearly as a twelve year old girl can, and it is this trait that Saori is counting on to redeem her heroine and bring the narrative to a happy conclusion. Otherwise, there is a problem with her script: the main character is jealous, judgmental, unforgiving, and projects all her worst traits onto those around her.
Saori: “As usual, [Saisho] doesn’t have a clue.”
Nitori: “You’re being kind of harsh.”
Saori: “No, I’m not angry with him anymore. He decided this was the best course of action after some serious deliberation. I understand why he did it... I’m just having trouble controlling my emotions.”
Mako: “Wouldn’t that mean you’re still mad?”
And the main character knows it.
Saori is not Momoko, witless enough to hate whom she will without reflection. Gifted, or cursed, with an
articulate and self-aware nature, Saori is left to think on all that she does. She knows her feelings toward Saisho are unjust; he’s inept, perhaps, but there can be no questioning his good intent. Yet… she can’t stem the resentment. It fills her with shame that she has so little control over her worst impulses. Mako doesn’t quite understand; it
is anger... but with an asterisk, footnoted always with embarrassment and regret.
In turn, these implacable feelings have been the cause of all her problems. Saisho invited others to join in the script writing only because of her uncommunicative condescension, mistaking it for a lack of progress; it was she who ultimately robbed herself of her time alone with Nitori. Similarly, she was in the wrong with the upperclassmen. Having erected a barrier of pride to hide her shame, she was too busy defending it to give them a simple courtesy.
Confronted, she doubles down, lying about it because her act of aloofness is too important to surrender. Becoming yet more mortified by this weakness she enhances her compensatory pride,
turning it against those hostile to her as disdain. She knows who is at fault but cannot back down, stuck trying to blame others for her predicament, all because she is scared of exposing her own appalling vulnerability.
Sasa: “Aren’t you going to eat your [ice cream]?”
Saori: “I don’t have the right to be here.” (Dispirited)
Sasa: “There you go again…”
Saori: “It’s true.”
(Pause)
Saori: “I never said hello. I was the one who ignored [the upperclassmen].”
What does yield her confession, though, is the guilt of being believed by those close to her. Saori is a sincere soul, her lies being those of shame rather than malice. She wants to feel accepted but cannot as long as she believes she her friends are treating her kindly under false pretenses; she’s confident that if they just knew what a mean-spirited little shrew she is they’d reject her as she rejects herself.
The fact that they do not has done nothing to dispel this conviction, and even gives her further ammunition to maintain that nobody really understands the depths of her failings. With such a precarious position, even the hint of either acceptance or rejection is enough to send her fleeing:
Mako: “That’d be depressing.”
(Saori begins to move away from Mako down the stairs)
Saori: “Well, I’m a depressing person! That’s why I have no friends!”
Mako: “Are you saying Sasa isn’t your friend? She’d be really sad to hear that.”
(Saori’s face only hardens and she accelerates)
Mako: “I consider myself your friend too!”
(Saori is at a full run when Sasa appears at the bottom of the stairs)
Sasa: “Why are you shouting?” (Unaware)
(Saori stops abruptly, staring in surprise)
Saori is caught up in the theatrics of her own self-loathing, spouting the most absurd falsehoods to reaffirm her misery. Yet even as she punishes herself for her failings, heaping self-recrimination on everything she does, she nonetheless tries to believe that her unhappiness is in no way her fault. If she has played some part, and she isn’t a sad orphan girl facing great and unfair challenges, then that would force her to face up to the source of her behavior. That, quite simply, is too intolerable, and self-pity, the other side of pride without self-esteem, is there to comfort her. But she is not entirely egotistical, and when confronted with the reality of Sasa as another person, she feels truly miserable knowing that her words have maligned not just herself but her sweet friend too.
As for the one who has tried hardest to be a true friend to her, she can tolerate her least of all. Takatsuki not only has everything Saori wants - a kind spirit, positive regard, and Nitori’s affection - her existence undermines the narrative that Saori is a victim and everybody else is just lucky. She wants to believe that if their places were reversed Takatsuki would be just as spiteful, and she will cite as proof the one time she pushed Takatsuki too far. If the object of her envy-unto-hate hates her back, she need not feel guilty about her unwillingness to make up. Clearly the feeling’s mutual. But she knows that’s not true either, and she can only watch with hidden yearning as Takatsuki responds to her animosity with incomprehension [3]. Not only does this person have generosity to spare, she doesn’t even recognize it as special. How can Saori ever match that in Nitori’s eyes?
Nitori. The golden idol of her world,
she lays sacrifices at his feet in hopes of a blessing. She may find her own character revolting but at least she can count on this one shaft of light to illuminate her, and if only she can devote herself enough to her pure love she can use it to leave behind the rest of her worthless nature. Renunciation will be her salvation. But - and this is a truth that even Saori has not perceived in herself - she is merely exalting what comes easy: being forceful in the service of her narrow passions.
Saori: (Looking through her dresses) “How’s this? Oh, and this? I think it would look better on you. Wanna try it on?” (Hasty)
Nitori: “Uh… Y-you promised…”
Saori: “Huh?”
Nitori: “...not to do anything weird.” (Timidly)
Saori: “Right. I lost control. Sorry.” (Embarrassed)
Nitori: “Oh, no. I appreciate the thought. But… it would feel weird to dress up as a girl for this meeting.”
Saori is a girl and she loves Nitori the boy; to her it is that simple. Yet Nitori wishes to be a girl and try as she might she cannot find it in herself to love that. The corollary to this is a fear, buried deep, that wishing to be a girl Nitori can never love her back as a girl either. If only she were like Takatsuki. Not perceiving the struggle, all she can do is covet that Takatsuki is capable of being that which will satisfy Nitori; like some sort of transgender superpower to rank alongside her kindness, it’s just yet another thing Takatsuki-the-girl can do that Saori-the-girl cannot. Fate itself seems to have decided against her in favor of Takatsuki.
In compensation, Saori has tried to ignore all her muddy feelings about the matter. She doesn’t want a genderbent play, she doesn’t want Nitori to dress up in girls’ clothes, she doesn’t want him to be… a her. But she’ll prove she at least has the redeeming quality that she can repress her selfish desires for love… and then she loses control. Again. Her offering of clothes is not for him, it is for her; she wears a false smile as she does so, desperate to make him happy so that she can convince herself she is doing good and be happy too. Also… perhaps… just maybe… get him to lose interest in Takatsuki… and so not want to be a girl either…
And when these attempts to give of herself do not yield the results she desires it calls forth her ugliest demons:
Nitori: “It’s not because of Takatsuki. I want to do it for me. I want to be a girl.”
Saori: “Really… (cold to the point of formal) So, what do you plan to do? You won’t become a girl by waiting around. Will you have an operation, once you grow up? Otherwise, becoming a girl’s impossible. You can swap names with Takatsuki, but you won’t truly be trading places. It’s all just an act.”
Saori would know all about acts, about trying desperately to pretend to be what one is not. About wishing for the impossible every day and having nothing come of it. Her bitterness rebounds on Nitori, trying to project her plight on him, belittling his unwanted dream, and disdainful that unlike
her he has done so little in pursuing it. Her passion gives her certainty about what she wants, so why can’t Nitori and Takatsuki,
who are so clueless they can’t even answer her questions, just let her have it?
Why can't everybody be like she needs them to be? Nitori, confused and hurt by this assault, can only stammer:
Nitori: “I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”
Saori: “Don’t.” (Pleadingly)
Nitori: “Why?”
(Saori’s eyebrows twitch reflexively in anger that Nitori still doesn’t see the rightness of her demands)
Saori: “Do you have to ask? You’re a boy.”
Nitori: “But why are you saying this to me?”
(Saori's realizes in humiliated disbelief that he truly doesn't have any reservations about not being a boy for her)
Nitori: “I’m not doing it for Takatsuki, or for you. I--”
Saori: “Because I’m in love with you!” (Angrily)
(Awkward silence as Nitori’s mouth drops open; oh, that's why she's so upset)
Nitori: “Sorry…”
(Saori deflates, becoming apologetic)
Saori: “It’s okay. But I can’t bring myself to like Takatsuki, so don’t talk about her around me.” (Unable to meet his gaze)
So just as how Saori struck one boy for mocking Nitori, in the end she is able to strike at him as well when he threatens her hopes. She can’t blame him long for anything otherwise her lifeline is gone, which leaves only herself to flagellate.
So she retreats into herself after her outburst, unable to face properly what she has just done, yet feeling keenly the gap between the selfishness of her heart and the selflessness she idealizes but which remains beyond her grasp.
“My! I haven’t seen you in a while, Saori.”
So greets the woman at the gate to the church, humbly sweeping the grounds. It is a kindly comment that lets the hearer know that she is missed and that her absence is lamented, not censured. Saori, however, is deaf to this; with only a curt “domo” in return she rushes past, intent on her purpose, passing up yet another opportunity at human comfort, fleeing from herself and the scene just witnessed.
Saori doesn’t attend her church,
a fact remarked on more than once. It is a symptom of a larger issue: Saori is isolating herself out of egotism. She knows what she needs and she doesn’t need any of them; her own efforts will be enough. When she does eventually achieve her goal it will prove that she was right all along, the full measure of her quality being revealed in how she overcame her flaws and found her happy future all by herself.
Yet it is this very choice which prevents her growth. She imagines her efforts will produce humility and sacrifice, but the self-hatred and self-abandonment she is utilizing are only a facsimile of virtue, indulged in because they are easy and, in a paradoxical way, make her feel better by proving she has lofty aspirations. That they have done nothing to improve her situation has her attempting to dignify them as though she were the victim of a grand romantic tragedy, her very own
Romeo and Juliet. A perfect love will be thwarted by the world and the protagonist will
reject it back in contempt and retribution: she will
play the pariah,
insist on reminding others of her misery, and
wish for everybody to meet an unhappy fate, all in the service of her righteous outrage.
…but she is not that far gone. She still stared with longing at others and their fireworks, just a child after all who desperately wants to feel loved but cannot because of her own folly.
So let Saisho be improved so that she may benefit, but blight him to satisfy her spite. Let Nitori be happy because she loves him, and let it be remembered that she was willing to petition for this despite how she feels. And please take from Takatsuki…
Saori pauses in her prayer, looking downwardly inward, knowing what she asks comes at the expense of another but wanting it too much to be able to overcome herself. The screen goes black; this is too intimate, far far too intimate, to show. With eyes closed the lines are spoken not by the lips but in that inner cavity where we find ourselves resting when there are no distractions, she asks of higher powers what she otherwise believes is impossible and doubts she even deserves:
Please, let her story be happy.
Prodigal Daughter
If we are lucky, there comes a time in our lives when all our rationalizations collapse inward under their own weight and we’re faced with just ourselves. Merely being able to admit in moments of honesty that we are confused or in the wrong is not enough; such can be steps, but sometimes a shock, and being forced to acknowledge the necessity of help, is required.
For Saori, her love and her self-denigration had worked together to promote a blinding justification for her behavior. But behind this front a problem had been gathering strength. In her story of self-sacrifice she had always counted on one thing: that if she could only achieve for Nitori his happiness she would find her own as well. That would be her way out of her dilemma, to keep giving herself up until the conflict between her desires and his disappeared. That’s how the plot will work out if she’s good enough to warrant it. And yet…
“I’m not happy with the script the way it is.”
…and yet she finds that his happiness is not hers. The class play, to all intents and purposes, was a success.
It gave Nitori an outlet to truly express what he wanted and he appreciated the time spent with classmates and friends in bringing it together. It of course did not solve all of his dilemmas,
it would be ridiculous to expect a single play to change everybody’s feelings, but it did help. It even gave Saori the center-stage recognition that she secretly craved; she got to be Romeo and demonstrated such caliber that
nobody could doubt she was a cut above the rest of the cast.
But it didn’t make her Nitori’s beloved. When given a chance to express himself he said exactly what she didn’t want to hear. In working together and deepening his bonds with others it made him ever more distant from herself. And though she has everybody’s applause it isn’t enough to fill the hole at the center of her being. All of her hopes still remain pinned on his coming around to her dream eventually, that he will give up being a girl for her sake like she has intimated she would do anything for him. Maybe it didn’t happen this act, but the next one perhaps. Next time she will prove worthy his affection, as worthy as any boy, as worthy as Takats...
Takatsuki: “I found out that Nitori… is in love with Anna. And he’s going out with her.”
(Saori stares in pained bewilderment)
Saori: “Suehiro… Anna?”But… Nitori wants to be a girl… a girl who likes guys… it was Takatsuki’s fault for being everything Saori couldn’t… Saori was a tragic heroine for wanting the impossible… she was a virtuous heroine for devoting herself to him anyway… when Nitori realized this he would cherish her back… her sacrifice would get her what she wanted… it would make her happy...
…or maybe, it isn’t that Nitori doesn’t love girls, but just that he doesn’t love her, and that nothing she can do will change that.
Ms. Chiba: “Are you serious about wanting to quit school?”
Saori: “Have I ever joked about anything?”
Ms. Chiba: “Well, no… But what will you do?”
Saori: “Something. I could be someone’s mistress.”
Ms. Chiba: “You shouldn’t joke about that.” (Gentle reproof)
Saori: “I never joke.”
Saori knows nobody will ever love her. She never jokes, is never funny
[4], is never nice. Always too serious about everything she tries to do. And now she sees that it was pointless. She might as well just throw herself away, make herself somebody’s mistress; that way at least there’s no pretension that the relationship will be anything other than her serving another without affection. That’s something any female with a working body is at least good for. Look, she even knows how to languorously pose to try and entice a lover; she’s had plenty of practice at it, after all.
What a little actress.
Saori may never joke, but she says (and does) plenty which is absurd enough to be comedic. And as always, she knows it. With the last line she averts her eyes from everything but her pillow, staring inward at how dramatic she is being. This may seem to be owning up to her faults at last but that is only a mirage. It’s what the self-pity is there for, to save her from that. If she can just swaddle herself in petulant surety that she is not who she wishes and cannot have what she desires, then she can give free reign to her unhappiness. Make herself the victim of circumstance again and let other people try to cheer her up so she can refuse. Though one reflection slips through:
Ms. Chiba: “Are you being bullied?”
Saori: “No, I’m the bully.”
Stripped of their justification, Saori’s motivations may be known by their fruits.
She has been cornering Nitori, making him feel uncomfortable, demanding of him answers he cannot possibly have to satisfy her own want of comprehension. She has even tried to get him to give up what he wants most. And that’s the person she likes. Nobody is going to miss her.
(Doorbell rings and Saori blinks and looks up with surprise; her mother answers it, and returns saying it was Takatsuki dropping off homework for her.)
But that’s not the truth either. She is not a bully who inflicts herself on others for pleasure or domination; not much of a heroine, perhaps, but not a villain either. And this thankless little sign of regard arrests her for a moment, open-mouthed, before she doubles down again to avoid admitting it.
Ms. Chiba: “Oh, you’re awake. Would you like some scones?”
Saori stares confused at Takatsuki sitting with her mother. Caught unawares in the broad daylight she doesn’t have time to put on a face, revealing
a fuzz-headed little girl who is quite easily touched. Despite her attempts to hide, Takatsuki has come back again and again, and now cornered by propriety (or possibly just her mother), she has to admit Takatsuki into her room. Takatsuki takes her place on the opposite wall, enough to give Saori space but still facing her head on:
Takatsuki: “I-I was hoping we could make up.”
Saori: “Why? Don’t you hate me? Why bother changing anything?” (Looking away)
First defense thrown up; Saori’s rationalizations won’t go down without a fight. She’s unlovable, she knows that. She managed to make even Takatsuki angry to tears with her unkindness. Any reasonable person should demand that she apologize first... and she knows that won’t happen. So really it’s impossible to drag her out of this hole; she’s tried, others have tried, and they’ve all failed. She should just be left there, alone like she deserves.
Takatsuki: “If Nitori isn’t in love with me, there’s no reason for us to fight.”
Saori: “Are you stupid? So because Nitori doesn’t like you anymore, that means we should be friends? I’m not that shameless.” (Looking indignantly at Takatsuki)
Takatsuki: “I don’t see the problem.” (Confused)
No, Takatsuki doesn’t see the problem and can’t. That’s always been problem: she’s too good-natured to comprehend the source of Saori’s anger and shame; in answering this way all she does is remind Saori of her own shortcomings. But Saori still has her pride, such as it is; she at least wants it to be clear that this isn’t jealousy over a love interest. She isn’t
that petty. It was just the most painful insult, and though it is gone it doesn’t change the fact that Takatsuki has a large-heartedness Saori can only envy. Which reminds her again:
Saori: “Why do you insist on being friends with me? I’ve always been pretty antisocial. I’m fine with the way things are.” (Looking increasingly pathetic with each statement)
Takatsuki doesn’t know how to respond to this. She hadn’t ever thought about
why she ought to keep reaching out to Saori; it just seemed like the right thing to do. Hearing the rest of the sad assessment,
her face falls as she finds herself uncertain on what to say. Saori pauses in her rumination in case Takatsuki tries to comfort her, tell her she’s not that bad or try to chase after her after she’s said she wants to be left alone. Her self-pity is ready for those answers; if Takatsuki falls for that trap there’s no arguing with Saori. She will fight to the last if people try to make her feel better intentionally. However, receiving no such gratification, Saori provokes her further:
Saori: “You just don’t want Sasa to be sad.”
Takatsuki: “This has nothing to do with her. I decided to come here on my own.” (Swiftly)
This, though, is an obvious falsehood and Takatsuki knows how to meet those. She may not quite comprehend what Saori’s problem is, but that won’t stop her from instinctively challenging a bad lie when she hears one. Saori averts her eyes. Obviously Takatsuki still doesn’t get it, doesn’t get
her, and her lips begin to form yet another defense… then she pauses, her mouth resting open in the now-familiar tell that she is moved. Takatsuki is here for her and no one else; the very earnestness that she has found so galling is also a guarantee of truth. There is somebody who sincerely believes that enduring Saori’s unpleasantness is worth it. Something about her might be worth caring for.
Saori: “Your tea.” (Quietly)
Takatsuki: “Huh?”
Saori: “You should drink it. Before it gets cold.” (Blushing and looking away)
It is the first time Saori has expressed any concern for the other person in the room. It’s small, it’s embarrassed, but it’s genuine. The world doesn’t revolve around Saori Chiba and her little drama. Takatsuki doesn’t quite get what she’s done right to finally receive this peace offering, but she does understand what it means. She picks up the saucer and sips in acceptance, happy to have her friend back.
Praying in Secret
After this scene Saori Chiba does not become a saint. She still has trouble being sociable [5] , still struggles with her feelings, still is Saori Chiba. But, that’s not such a bad thing either. As she remarks herself when accused of being blunt, that, yes, she is blunt, but less so than she once was [6] . That’s just how she is: not as an excuse, but as an acknowledgement that to go straight after what she wants and express clearly what she thinks is both the value and the fault of her passionate character. The easy path was to dream of being somebody else, the hard one to work on being a better version of who she is.
Despite its billing, I am reluctant to characterize
Hourou Musuko as an LGBT show; that indicates it is applicable to only a subset of humanity. This sells it short. Gender issues are its central vehicle, but compassion for all is where it is trying to take us. And compassion begins with self-compassion, for as Saori learned, abuse of the self inevitably turns to the abuse of others, and a souring of relationships in expectation of reward. I have great hope for people like her, though - their struggles often grant them a self-knowledge that is denied those who have not wrestled with their angel, and hers has not inconsiderable strength. As was remarked about another rather quarrelsome anime heroine, “
That young lady will definitely grow up to be a beauty.” I think that will be the case here too.
In her last scene alone with Nitori we are able to glimpse where she is going. They are in her room again, and as before she offers her dresses to wear. However, the urgency is gone; she no longer desperately needs to please him to satisfy herself. And as she walks over to pick up the hair extension, that piece which more clearly than any signifies helping him transition away from her imagined future, she pauses. A look of sadness steals over her face as what she is doing sinks in, threatening a return of all the anger at the unfairness. Why is it her dream and not his that must be sacrificed?
Then she closes her eyes in proper orison before standing,
smiling for Nitori’s sake as she turns to face him again. It isn’t the prayed-for prize she has won;
the tears are barely restrained as she feels what she wanted so dearly slipping away. But it is something more valuable, and for the first time, as she lays her head on his, she is free to love him without reserve, and though no chorus of angels will sing her praises, there can be no doubt who was singing “
For You” all along:
I wanna cry for you
Cry the tears of blessing for making up with you.
I wanna smile for you
Not for myself.
I wanna find the song which tells of our love story.
“Everything is for you.”
I go around saying that again
Though that’s nothing but wishful thinking.
I know that best of all
I’m just choosing the easy way out.
In truth, I’m doing everything for myself.
I think I just got carried away by the atmosphere of this city.
I wanna cry for you
When I smile with you I’m sure I’ll feel better too.
I wanna dream for you
I won’t forget our story, even after I wake up from this dream
Because the story still echoes in my ears.
