The video the /hj tone indicator is worse than useless by jan Misali @HBMmaster (aka Mitch) on YouTube argues that the inherent ambiguity of the 'half-joking' ('/hj') tone indicator renders it practically dysfunctional, and even actively counterintuitive, in its role as an accessibility tool for those on the autism spectrum who may struggle to identify the tone of a message, especially through text in online spaces. Due to the function of tone indicators being, as he stated, to "communicate less ambiguously" (regardless of whether it clarifies tone or intent); to remove ambiguity from a message, the introduction of ambiguity through the '/hj' tone indicator is actively working against its sole purpose. However, whether or not '/hj' was tacked on to the end it, the message's intended tone would not be affected. Ironically, '/hj' clarifies the presence of ambiguity.

Though this argument is mostly posed through the perspective of accessibility (which I don't intend on engaging with here), this has sparked general discussion on the meaning of the '/hj' tone indicator, mostly via attempts to disambiguate it which, in its multiplicity and inconsistency, ironically reinforced its inherent ambiguity as Mitch retrospectively commented. However, the futility of this endeavour instead reveals that perhaps its ambiguous nature is exactly what makes '/hj' such an appealing and reliable crutch for people to rely on when the words and syntax they choose become further removed from any standardised or subversive formation of meaning via language. As Mitch stated, "Anecdotally speaking, most of the time when I've seen people make short lists of the tone indicators they find the most useful, /hj usually makes it to the top five." This is because '/hj' is evidently very helpful to the communicator.

Mitch stated that "Unfortunately, 'half-joking' doesn't mean anything. 'This statement is partially, but not completely a joke' does not give me any information about what is meant by it, or how I should interpret it." However, it does communicate something; it communicates ambiguity, albeit in a roundabout way. Instead, 'half-joking' provides neither guidance nor direction about the message's vague meaning or interpretation. As Mitch noted, a lot people somehow intuitively understand what is meant by 'half-joking'. To demystify this intuition, I turn to the framework of post-irony.

"A central element of post-irony is the obfuscation, ambiguity, watering-down, degradation, or simple lack of meaning and intent in statements and artwork, and whether the creator or disseminator intends this to be celebrated, decried, or met apathetically can itself be part of this uncertainty." -Wikipedia on Post-irony

Through this lens, a particular slew of words with no apparent tone or intent is given meaning through its clear, and supposedly total, ambiguation. However, this new meaning is formed by its very lack of meaning, thus notably separating itself from the formation of meaning from the likes of more traditional interpretation through the inherent or otherwise ambiguous elements in forms of artistic expression. In such cases, meaning informs the creation of new meaning, whereas the intentional lack of meaning of post-ironic expression informs the creation of its own distinct meaning. Similarly, the intent is the lack of intent. I believe it infinitely more productive to simply ask yourself: What kind of tone could possibly come from that?

According to the Oxford Dictionary, tone has two distinct definitions relating to this topic: Stress and intonation of speech, and related senses and A particular style or spirit of thought or behaviour, and related senses. As tone indicators act as a textual substitute for aspects of face-to-face interaction that are lost in written communication, the '/hj' tone indicator can be taken as serving to clarify that this absence of vocal inflections and nonverbal cues inherent to text that would normally be a hindrance to communication is, in this instance, its intent. In simple terms, by clarifying tone, a tone indicator reduces misinterpretation, which helps achieve effective communication. Then, by clarifying a lack of tone, the '/hj' tone tag is achieving the same effect. However, the instance of a misinterpretation in this case is undefined, as there is, in some sense, no intent from the messenger. That is not to say there is no possibility of misinterpretation. Attempting to disambiguate the meaning or intent of such a message will lead you to an impasse.

Mitch argues that since it is the interpreter's responsibility to identify "which half is the joke", the tone indicator is inherently ambiguous, therefore making "statements harder for [him] to interpret than they otherwise would be, which is the opposite of what tone indicators are for." However, this isn't the fault of the tone indicator, but an inherent complexity of a message with layers of meta-irony. Interpreting the message with a different tone would be a misinterpretation, which only hinders communication. The overall argument of the video is built off of the notion that eliminating ambiguity is the ultimate goal. Nevertheless, that very ambiguity is inherent to post-irony.

In the video, the first two of three distinct common uses for '/hj' are presented through the perspective of either irony or sincerity. Through a metamodernist understanding, these two concepts aren't mutually exclusive. In fact, they have become increasingly intertwined, which reveals the shortcomings of a framework that positions irony and sincerity on opposite sides of a linear spectrum.

As for the third of the three distinct common uses for '/hj' that Mitch entitled "ambiguous on purpose", I want to reiterate a few points. Firstly, I understand some people's intent in using this tone indicator is unambiguous (to them at least), however due to its nature demonstrated by the video, this is effectively a futile attempt which only serves to further ambiguate its meaning. Secondly, as Mitch lists off several possibilities of underlying intent for this usage of the tone tag, he implies that the messenger could, if they wanted, use a more unambiguous tone indicator, with the intentional ambiguity acting only as a device to gauge public opinion on a particular topic. This is essentially the principle behind Schrodinger's asshole, which is, as Mitch stated, purposefully ambiguating an unambiguous message. Ergo, it is actively detrimental as an accessibility tool. Thirdly, he stated that the correct use of '/hj' should be to confuse people because it is confusing, despite him mentioning prior that the majority of people intuitively understand its meaning, which seems contradictory, especially if each use is functionally distinct as he asserted. As people are supposedly communicating with a deliberately ambiguating device without issue, even considering it helpful in conversation, it can be inferred that somehow clarity is arising from ambiguity.

Note: I recognise certain terms such as 'post-irony' are poorly defined. I ask that you take them as I present them.

Afterword

It's comedic whenever someone attempts to explain the '/hj' tone indicator, because they always seem to end off their explanation with the attitude of "idk it just makes sense to me" so I sympathise with the frustration. Please note that this is more of a think-piece than a proper analysis. There is no way to ascertain the intent of the messenger. Most of the evidence here and in the video are entirely anecdotal. I could argue that the people in his anecdotes are misinterpreting their own intent by being tasked with disambiguating their own inherently ambiguous message, but I have no way of knowing one way or another.

More recently, the '/silly' tone indicator has seen a lot of use. I think its popularity only further highlights the convenience and utility of this flavour of ambiguity - here's a random forum discussion on it if you wish to delve more into this topic in its contemporary form.

*An essay I wrote for school in March 2025.

The postmodern zeitgeist – whether it be in studies of literature, philosophy, or permeating the collective consciousness of internet forums – seems to hold an iron grip on us living in contemporary society. Its champion of experimental form, inherited from its modernist predecessors, is characteristically playful and fragmented with no staple beacon to guide narratives any which way. Despite its ongoing efficacious resonance with audiences, this resistance to readerly closure and guidance toward embracing boundless interpretation through its interest in metafiction and self-reflexivity has recursively led these audiences back to a yearning for the sincere modernist attitudes of past.

In Allan H. Pasco’s The Short Story: The Short of It, he discusses the effect of the short story genre’s “shortness” – its sole comprehensive defining trait – on authorial intent and readerly response. He argues that the short story’s brevity inhibits its educational ability to build a plausible new world, forcing the author to assume a considerable amount of the reader’s background. This reliance on the audience’s awareness of certain details informs the communication of information between author and reader. My short story Untitled relies upon the reader’s knowledge of contemporary society, specifically its internet culture and resonance with postmodern rhetoric. The world(s) depicted are amalgamations of familiar real world places and cultures to reflect globalisation and the resultant ethnocultural identity confusion. Pasco argues that the genre is “condemned to intensity”, rendering it unable to inspire certain responses from its reader, such as tranquillity or the mundane due the story “quiver[ing] with energy”. Charles Baudelaire argues that this constraint ensures “nothing of the effect of the whole is lost”. The story short’s imposed economy that shuns redundancy and amplification forces the story to rely on hints and its arrangement over repetition or development. This intensity of readerly reception in Untitled is suited to my authorial purpose of inducing conflicted emotional whiplash. The high density of symbols – regardless of their perceived meaningfulness – presented to the alert short story reader overwhelms their capacity for interpretation, encouraging resignation in the formation of meaning.

The literary collage and fragmentation of Donald Barthelme’s flash fiction The School (1974) accentuates the absurdism of modern society. The disconnected string of deaths are told in quick succession with no logical sense of progression. The lack of transition between shifts in narrative focus creates ambiguity in the timing of events, leaving the reader lost and amused with this absence of rationale. This fragmented narration is utilised in Untitled to obscure the story’s sense of time and space in contrast to the boy’s initial narrative which follows a sensical timeline. The School’s literary collage is formed by the reunification of these fragmented pieces into a new, nonlinear narrative through the confused, self-aware narrator of Edgar. This follows his often scatterbrained stream of conscious, employing asides to convey tangents. For example, Edgar interrupts his recount of the deaths of ten parents to inform the audience that he had forgotten about the most bizarre death. This aside’s abrupt introduction and ending frames the event as an afterthought in comparison to the other deaths despite its relatively vivid imagery of a man “who was knifed fatally when he grappled with a masked intruder in his home”, stoking readerly intrigue which is promptly denied any explanation, emphasising the humorous absurdity of Edgar’s circumstances. This fragmented collage narration is incorporated in Untitled to explore the postmodernist use of humour as a sense-making framework (or the opposite of such) for the intense absurdity of contemporary society.

The metafictional narration and structure of Clarice Lispector’s short story The Fifth Story (1964) invites interrogation of the interrelation between readerly interpretation and authorial expression. The first person narration addresses the reader directly, announcing her intent to tell three stories as part of a larger narrative, which brings attention to the narrator’s intentionality in the construction of the story. Agnieszka Gabor-da Silva argues that the various iterations of this singular event leaves “neither the reader nor the author … satisfied” as evidenced by the analogy’s abrupt ending, as if the narrator had forsaken her authorial duty to the reader, allowing the non-word to persist beyond the page. This acts as a critique of postmodernist embracement of absolute subjectivity, leaving Lispector, as Nicolino Novello argues, in an “eternal discontentment” with her literary expression, reflected in The Fifth Story’s narrator. Instead of Lispector’s direct acknowledgement of the reader, the metafictional relationship in Untitled is applied to the boy and the girl assuming interchanging roles of the reader and the author as their attempts to resolve and resist against finality on the boy’s story draws attention to the narrative structure of Untitled. This interplay reflects the contention between postmodernist’s submission to the infinity of perspectives and the readerly need for closure and equanimity.

The subject-object relationship of the hypodiegesis with the diegesis in a story and its implications on narrative freedom and suppression is discussed in Gerald Doherty’s Undercover Stories: Hypodiegetic Narration in James Joyce's "Dubliners". Doherty argues that the paralysis experienced by the characters in James Joyce’s short story collection Dubliners is reflected in its truncated, incomplete hypodiegetic stories. The narrators of these stories are unable, or reluctant, to tell these tales, indicated by the use of elision marks […] which hinder these stories’ ability to develop past the enigma in the three-act structure. This disjointed story is contrasted by the diegetic narrative that employs the classic narrative symmetry. In Untitled, the girl’s story isn’t occluded by paralysis. Instead, its deliberate obscuration by the girl herself highlights her narrative control which begins to elude her with the unveiling of details by the hypodiegetic narrators. They resist against her diegetic narrative power by invading the dialogic space; the mechanism which allows her to dominate the narration. Doherty explains that diegetic narrator(s) are able to select and omit, summarise and revise these embedded narratives. This intervention acts as a biased lens through which the reader views the literary world and events, embodying the modernist complexities of the unreliable human psyche. For example, the diegetic narrator of An Encounter mimics a character’s idiolect, seizing narrative control through the appropriation of his narrative. This subjected relationship described by Doherty is manifested in Untitled in the hegemonic narrator of the girl and its hypodiegetic characters. The girl interjects dialogue, offering a cynical interpretation of events while reiterating that this conjecture is “just [her] opinion” which simultaneously depreciates and legitimatises these embedded narratives. This articulation of thought is a rewarding validation for the contemporary reader’s hyperawareness, while also inspiring exasperation at its extreme tongue-and-cheek to investigate the contemporary role of postmodernist attitudes.

The experimental form and structure of the modernist and postmodernist short story utilises its nonlinear, fragmented narration, metafictional techniques, and multilevel structure to interrogate the nature of storytelling and readership in their shared embracement of phenomenology. The concision defining the short story spotlights this relationship through the reader’s sensitivity to the intentionality of story elements and arrangement. Untitled contributes to the field of the short fiction through its utilisation of the playful postmodern form to critique its surrender to meaninglessness. Its metafictional elements spur questions about the role of the author and the reader and consequences of abandoning these duties and presuming insincerity on literature and the wider social context.

Bibliography

Barthelme D. (1974). The School. Donald Barthelme: Collected Stories (LOA, 2021), pages 467–70. First published in the June 17, 1974, issue of The New Yorker. https://neenahlibrary.org/sites/default/files/inline-files/combinepdf-4_0.pdf

Doherty, G. (1992). Undercover Stories: Hypodiegetic Narration in James Joyce’s “Dubliners.” The Journal of Narrative Technique, 22(1), 35–47. http://www.jstor.org/stable/30225346

Lispector C. (1964). The Fifth Story (“A quinta historia”). The Foreign Legion (“A legião estrangeira”).

Pasco, A. H. (1993). The Short Story: The Short of It. Style, 27(3), 442–451. http://www.jstor.org/stable/42946063

The anime for Angel Beats was originally planned for 26 episodes instead of the 13 episodes it ended up with. It feels almost too perfect. Many have criticised its pacing, however I find it a miracle that such a story was forced to chaotically rush through all the emotion and random shenanigans before having its life cut short, leaving the viewer with a feeling of hollowness and the wanting for more. If it wasn't due to production issues, I'd have defended this accidental artistic direction of Angel Beats with my life. This perfectly reflects the tragedy of the young lives of the characters of Angel Beats. The afterlife is a snippet into the youth they missed out on. The pacing reflects its chaotic and sporadic nature, full of whimsy and angst. Its wielding of jovial, meta humour encapsulates this sense of youth and childhood. These children are given a space in a transitionary limbo to express their grievances and anger at the world and the regrettable life they led. Even when defying an angel or God himself, the characters come up with nonsensical names for their resistance group, construct elaborate plans around a girls band for the heck of it, and play a game of baseball which I had forgotten the initial reason for very quickly. Truly a metamodernist masterpiece.

There is the idea of settling with the bare minimum within people who’ve faced relentless mistreatment. The constant disappointment that arises from it creates a sense of hopelessness, from which even the bare minimum can seem like a heavenly grace. This idea is explored in the series Blue Lock through the character of Meguru Bachira and his metaphorical ‘monster’ through soccer. In the ‘awakening’ of his ego in episode 22, Bachira declares, “So even if I get teased for being strange… Even if I end up alone again… Even if I don’t have any friends…”, essentially conceding to being alone, relinquishing everything he ever wanted, in the name of staying true to himself.

“I’ll be sad if there’s no one else at the end of all this, but from now on, I’m going to be dancing alone. Goodbye, monster. Goodbye, Isagi, the guy who’s been my soccer buddy up to now. I have to get back my solitary soccer!” –Bachira Meguru, Blue Lock episode 22

This echoes the sentiment of a sacrifice, however it is reframed by Isagi surpassing Bachira’s imagination. This ‘goodbye’ was more of a risk that Bachira accepted the consequences of. This ‘awakening’ can be likened to circumstances in relationships, in which one party had been content with the ‘bare minimum’ and, at the risk of losing the relationship and ending up alone, demanded more from them. In season 1 episode 23, Bachira says, “I ain’t gonna pass to someone who won’t go beyond my imagination” which can be seen as a rejection of this ‘bare minimum’, to which Isagi responds, “I’ll adjust to you!” This idea can be applied to minority groups and the social majority, in which even the bare minimum humane treatment is praiseworthy. Blue Lock, through the development and nurturement of the ego, emphasises the importance of concretely grasping one’s worth and setting expectations. This is a breakthrough of character through the sacrifice of normality and expected happiness.

*Written in late 2024.

The entire second selection of Blue Lock can be analysed through relationships; depicting codependency and power dynamics through soccer equivalents. I feel like that reading is pretty straightforward though. I might get back to you on that one.

Extra Reading: The Queer Narratives of Blue Lock by Suzels and @reilly913

One Piece is a story about pirates, social outcasts, which take to the seas in order to achieve their full potential and live freely from society. With that in mind, I can't help but recognise a deep irony in such a story being sanitised for a mainstream audience to find more "socially acceptable". That is the One Piece Live Action.

Each of the main characters have had their personality altered to conform to more traditional showcases of virtue. This runs counter to the original source material, which showed their potential for the deepest and most sincere virtues existing alongside their unabashed social deviance.

Luffy has demonstrated a child-like understanding of social concepts. When Koby tells of his traumatic experience, Luffy calls him an idiot, a wimp, and a coward. From a conventional view, this demonstrates a lack of consideration, kindness, and empathy, however Luffy's display of emotional intellect breaks this traditional sense-making frame. In the live action, Luffy shows more consideration and encouragement for Koby. There is no notable shift or challenging of convention in this behaviour. It demonstrates that Luffy's status as a social outcast is merely due to his pursuit of his dream and nothing more. Failing to show social deviance in these characters perpetuates an unchallenged, comfortable view of these topics. In being depicted synonymously with performative traits such as being considerate, this conflates the virtue with the social performance. That is, the live action version of Luffy could feasible integrate into society as we know it, unlike the manga/anime version which depicts socially unacceptable behaviours such as pointing out insecurities like Buggy's big red nose, clearly in contrast with the other characters conforming to the social environment. This isn't given the same narrative significance in the live action.

Similarly, Nami's deeply personal manifestation of her trauma has been altered to a more traditional display of emotional distance as coldness. Nami is never shown to be emotionally cold. Her enthusiasm for money, distaste of pirates, frustration, and hatred are emotionally heated, in fact. Nami draws upon these traits from her view of strength; Bellemere. Her femininity and cheerful personality are her attempt at staying strong to avoid the weakness that she internalised with her trauma when she asked for help. In contrast, the live action depicts her emotional repression as coldness, and Bellemere's key traits aren't depicted at all, not even through Nami. This depiction of trauma is easier to understand for audiences, however infinitely shallower in relation to Nami's character. Nami's farewell to her village is also altered, removing the powerful act of social deviance, her thievery, that marks her new beginning of true freedom out on the sea.

The unsightly portrayal of Usopp's cowardice and tendency to lie is his display of social deviance. Even within the audience, there are people who look upon these traits with a certain distaste, however I believe these "dislikeable" traits are central in all the main characters of One Piece. This is evident in Usopp's juxtaposition with Kuro, a professional butler who merely performs socially acceptable behaviours with no virtue. He is kind and considerate to Kaya and he is friendly with all the townspeople, while Usopp shatters Kaya's reality, trying to forcibly take her out of her room, and the townspeople are distrusting of him, yet he holds an earnestness and pride for his lineage that Kuro keeps hidden.

Sanji is a pathetic simp and pervert. His social deviance has a complicated relationship with traditional notions of masculinity. In the live action, he is presented as a cool, suave guy, just like the suit he is wearing. As a result, he is much less bratty, impulsive, and violent. His behaviour does not demonstrate the social deviance of his manga/anime counterpart, resulting in a relatively flat character and personality that fails to challenge the masculine ideal in the bombastic, confrontational, in-your-face way the original character of Sanji did.

Zoro was labelled as demonic before Luffy even met him. His lack of sociability and one-track mind likely led him to be rumoured as such. The treatment of Zoro from the marines due to his defiance against them forced him into a situation where Zoro had to choose between Luffy's offer of total societal ostracism or death. This choice (or more appropriately, lack of choice) reflects the undesirable in society being forced into a position where they must turn to extremes for survival, community, etc. This scene and its effect are also absent from the live action's storyline.

A motif that is present throughout the manga/anime's East Blue Saga is the main characters being chased off an island or out of town. This social outcast motif isn't in the live action. Ultimately, I feel OPLA failed to grasp this major theme that is prevalent throughout the saga, instead reinforcing societal performativity and misrepresenting the nuances and character work that were weaved into the narrative of the original source material.

*These are just my general observations. I definitely misused a loaded term somewhere in there. At least I got to appreciate Oda's writing once again.

The interactive music project MILGRAM -ミルグラム- often targets the ego of the viewer, embodied in the audience surrogate, Es. Whether it be the control Kotoko asserts over our role, and by extension, our identity of 'prison guard', or the lack of control we presume to have over Shido's sense of guilt, the audience has consistently responded, assumed, and acted in a way to regain this lost control. Through a perceived threat of manipulation and personal attacks, Kusunoki Muu's characterisation ironically exploits this to prompt ego defence mechanisms and inspire personal indignance.

The viewer's first impression of Muu is Jackalope commenting on her beauty and that he would forgive her on that basis. This contrasts with Fuuta, which Jackalope similarly comments on his ugliness and that he wouldn't forgive him. This establishes a bias against Muu on the offset before any actual characterisation. Her behaviours during the first trial, such as the constant crying, or switch-up to making fun of us by calling us dumb or a 'sad case', target the ego and furthers our distrust of her.

Muu's presentations in trials 1 and 2 may disrupt or validate a viewer's assumptions. Muu's first trial constructs the façade of the 'perfect victim' who is weak and helpless through omission. This prompts both empathy and a nagging distrust in the viewers. After trial 2, within the sensemaking framework of many viewers, they choose to view trial 1 as a complete falsehood in an attempt to construct a narrative where they were manipulated by a malicious, wicked force to avoid the reality that their judgement was wrong, or reinforce their initial suspicion. The concealing of information from the viewer undermines our power over Muu. We lack the sufficient information to properly fulfill what we see as our role as the warden/guard, despite the overall circumstances of Milgram itself being the main roadblock.

The narrative structure and fourth wall of Milgram acts as a mechanism for which power is maintained, undermined, and taken to expose the fragility of ego in the viewer themself. As the first prisoner in trial 1, Haruka is submissive and receptive to Es. He doesn't question the system as he does not have the mental capacity to fully comprehend it or his circumstances. Thus, Es remains in control, unchallenged in all areas (intellect, physical strength, information). Yuno is more willing to challenge others however her apathy stops her from criticising Milgram's system, even validating it somewhat. Futa aggressively challenges Milgram directly, bringing into focus the outside world in relation to the reality of Milgram which might've been previously disregarded. Futa's failed physical attack on Es, his own fragile ego, and his pathetic outward appearance further reinforces our power. Muu ponders the nature of Es as an entity, bringing into question the fourth wall that naturally comes with interactive storylines. This is followed by Jackalope entering the voice drama (VD) to enforce the system.

This disruption to the familiar formula and structure of a two-man dialogue between Es and a prisoner is repeated in Mikoto's first trial, with Kotoko interjecting herself into a trial before her own. This, along with the hints that Kotoko has been watching all the music video trials alongside Es, positions Kotoko on the same level, or even higher, than Es in terms of information. We don't know the exact extent of her knowledge, prompting paranoia that is accentuated by Jackalope's warnings in the introduction which preemptively positions us to assume the prisoners' dialogue as either a threat or an attempt to manipulate. To combat this threat to the established power structure, we desperately attempt to leverage the power we still hold over her: the voting system, which is a power that ultimately fails to give the viewer the outcomes they desire. There is a majority that doesn't wish premature death upon the prisoners before the conclusion of their story in the 3rd trial, with the voting statistics and vocal opinion generally reflecting this goal before trial 3.

The rest of the prisoners function similarly, continuing to blur the line between Milgram and the real world with personalities that clash with the ego of Es. Shidou renders the threat of punishment or death ineffective, further undermining our power over him, which we attempted to regain by going against his wishes and voting him innocent.

It is almost comical to see the way the ego reacts to Milgram's system and characterisation. The story uses its metaknowledge to recognise the nature of the postmodern internet landscape, to poke and prod at our egos and watch how we react.

I might be the only person who genuinely loves this anime, but here goes!

A lot of people dismissively label this anime as 'edgy' due to one of the main characters being vocally suicidal. I feel this is a reductive statement which ignores how the story and other characters address Kobayashi and his situation, especially Hanasaki.

The best aspect of this story is its characterisation of its main characters. The chemistry progresses and feels authentic, and character conflicts are symptoms of clashing core values instead of miscommunication. My favourite scenes have to be when the main characters just talk to each other about cases or whatnot. The standout has to be Kobayashi, with his Japanese VA giving a personal favourite performance of mine and the animators conveying so much subtly through mannerisms and expression. There's a palpable sense of awkwardness with his words and limbs alike, and his social ineptitude is shown through stellar dialogue. Hanasaki's charisma more than carries many conversations with the more unsociable characters. His progression is rough, but I don't mind it for the most part (the problem is with the antagonist imo). His approach to conflict in the first few episodes felt refreshing by his cutting to the chase, making for naturally tight pacing. Similarly, Kobayashi speeds up a lot of scenes by his disregard for pretty much everything and him acting of his own accord. Noro doesn't have much depth, but her personality acting as a cheery voice of reason and morality works very well in the dynamic. Inoue mostly plays support for the others, with his gradual growing care for Kobayashi being very sweet. He clashes with Hanasaki's emotional justice with his own more logical approach.

I really like the experimental art direction. There was a lot of wide shots, harsh colours and shadows, and symbolism utilised to create atmosphere in a scene. However, some clever transitions felt forced, and a few gave me horrible tonal whiplash that I had to pause to laugh about it. Other than some cool framing of movements, the animation is nothing special. The lighting of scenes is very intentional and lends itself to cool shots. The symbolism of the red (Kobayashi), the dark blue (Hanasaki), and the yellow lighting is very pretty even if I don't quite know what it all means. The visuals of the light blue sky reflected in a body of water in Opening 1 is just so cool. The scene with Hanasaki and Kobayashi falling from the airship in episode 24 is absolute peak with great payoff for both of them.

The pacing was a bit all over the place, especially during the middle episodes where plot is introduced and solved very quickly while some unimportant moments drag on. The most glaring thing I wasn’t too fond of was the antagonist. Twenty Faces had some cool ideas, but his presence and psychological manipulation of Hanasaki didn’t feel convincing. This also feeds into Akechi's character. I liked him and his struggles, however the resolution for them felt very half-baked. The story also has a problem with its writing of women; I only really loved Noro in this regard, the rest had no personality, were one-dimensionally evil, and/or just a pawn. Some setups didn't have proper payoff or conclusions (Hanasaki's brother, his father making amends, his extreme stress, Hide and his gang, etc.). The series likely would've benefited from more episodes however I appreciate shorter stories too (or any with an actual ending). I liked the soundtrack, but it can become distractingly repetitive.

I adored Hanasaki and Kobayashi together. My main criterion for these close relationships is that I should be able to feel their mutual care for each other through each interaction. The way they clearly prioritised each other in certain scenes is pretty funny. I liked how they established Hanasaki's care for Kobayashi through hosting a birthday party before their little argument where Hanasaki yells at Kobayashi. His claims of just keeping him around for a laugh might have a sprinkle of truth to them too, which is why I could feel its weight. I did appreciate how Hanasaki did a genuinely big fuckup that warranted such guilt.

There's a lot of substance to dissect in this story, but these are just my initial thoughts and appreciations. I had a such a blast watching this anime that it shocked me since I initially watched through once like 3 years ago and forgot everything. I probably watched with my eyes closed or something because it was such an enjoyable experience. It might be recency bias, but I rate it 8/10.