There is a lot riding on the success of this Tsubasa Misudachi product.

“Launch” is the title of Gatchaman Crowds insight‘s third offering, apropos for an episode ending in Tsubasa Misudachi taking flight, both literally and figuratively. As the newest G-Crew member, Tsubasa is an easy target for media outlets like the Millione Show, offering a happy publicity campaign that’s all too easy to sell, especially with the rise of VAPE. The Millione Show is a symbiotic proposition for Tsubasa and the G-Crew: the gatchaman increase their popularity and fandom while Millione rakes in the viewer numbers.

The atmosphere has been prepped well for Tsubasa’s arrival. With Rhythm Suzuki leading VAPE against Rui’s CROWDS, continuing to snowball anti-CROWDS sentiment, the public are desperately reaching out for happier news. Tsubasa’s tag-team act with alien Gel Sadra fits what the current social climate wants a bit too perfectly.

Piggybacking on this idea is insight‘s overall presentation thus far, especially in this third episode. Where the original Gatchaman Crowds used a storied superhero franchise as a springboard for its eclectic and modern story, insight returns to a more traditional superhero setup. Insight revels in the fact that we, as an audience, can see the strings being pulled as different pieces of the puzzle interlock and form the larger picture. Somewhat absent is the idea of attacking a preexisting vertical power structure, perhaps because the G-Crew and CROWDS have since become more of that same structure.

This is all while offering more traditional fanservice like the full gatchaman transformation scene pictured above. They even yell “Gatcha!” and pose for good measure, while fulfilling the heroic duties that the blue CROWDS units cannot accomplish.

Nothing exemplifies this callback to traition more than Tsubasa Misudachi’s characterization.

A traditional Red Ranger archetype, Tsubasa is an easy sell, both in-universe and to insight‘s audience. Headstrong, impulsive, and straightforward, she’s simple to understand and wholly relatable, unlike Hajime whose characterization still incites arguments.

Much like Jou Hibiki before the events of Crowds, Tsubasa believes in a very traditional sense of heroism and is blind to all else. When Rui cries out for her to stop, Tsubasa keeps on going – aided by Gel Sadra’s “Innocent Storm” ability – because it’s “the right thing to do.” She’s also constantly occupied with right and wrong, in addition to the standard concept of what a superhero is.

“If we can’t help people in need, how can we call ourselves heroes?”

– Tsubasa Misudachi, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 3

Hajime Ichinose had a similar moment in the fifth episode of Gatchaman Crowds. Forbidden to transform, Hajime retorts with the fact that heroes often take action without thinking and transforms anyway, revealing herself to Rui.

However, Crowds focused on Hajime’s attempts to communicate with her opponents – this was the action that she chose to take. Insight shows that Tsubasa is not concerned with communication, but taking action through fighting.

This makes Gel Sadra the perfect partner for Tsubasa, as Tsubasa needs someone to do the communicating for her. With the ability to read the thoughts of others and presumably aid Tsubasa with precisely what she needs, Gel bridges the gap between the thoughts of those in need and Tsubasa’s reckless actions.

As insight‘s second episode so obviously points out when Tsubasa’s actions accidentally injures someone she cares about, every move she makes could have unintended consequences. Even with Gel’s help, there’s no guarantee that Tsubasa’s actions will help Rui, as Rui’s internal conflict may be too much for her to bear.

There is a lot riding on this Tsubasa product launch.

In another series, Kurumi Ebisuzawa may have had her wish fulfilled. Joining the track team to pursue a relationship with her senior – as much as one can pursue a romantic relationship by staring from a distance – Kurumi scores a chance to make her romantic dreams come true when that same senior meets up with her on the school rooftop.

The scene is perfectly crafted. As the two look over the railing at the sun setting over their town, the atmosphere is ripe for a confession.

Instead, in School-Live!, that senior tries to eat her.

There are two primary ways that filmmakers, television series, and cartoons currently approach zombies. The first is to treat the subject matter as seriously as possible, which requires a deft touch and knowledge of how to create dramatic tension. The second, and far more popular approach, is to employ a campy style, playing up popular tropes within the genre while reveling in them.

Much of this has to do with how much time has passed between George Romero’s original 1968 Night of the Living Dead, which influenced the entire horror genre along with giving modern-day zombies many of their characteristics. Subsequent remakes of Night of the Living Dead and its brethren increasingly become campier homages of the originals as we, the audience, become more familiar with the tropes. Admittedly, Zack Snyder’s 2004 remake of Dawn of the Dead was wildly successful for these reasons. Far less acerbic than the original, it was still empty-headed fun, especially for those familiar with the zombie oeuvre.

An anime analogue stuck between the two options is the much-maligned High School of the Dead, which spends most of its time on kitschy fun. Unfortunately, it also tries to shoehorn in meaningful tidbits and ends up failing spectacularly, neither fun nor incisive at series end.

With the necessary deft touch a rare thing to come by, School-Live!‘s anime debut is all the more interesting. Eschewing campy flair of zombies, School-Live! plops slice of life moé antics – which in a way are equally rote as zombies – into a post-zombie apocalypse.

What makes School-Live! work isn’t the fact that it mashes two tired ideas together, but the manner in which pink-haired senior Yuki Takeya is portrayed. Broken by events prior to the series timeframe, Yuki sees the school as it was before the zombie outbreak. Fellow classmates Kurumi Ebisuzawa, Yuri Wakasa, Miki Naoki, and teacher Megumi Sakura are not only tasked with keeping themselves alive, but protecting Yuki’s shattered mind.

School-Live!‘s premiere plays with audience expectations, presenting the world as a standard cutesy schoolgirl comedy – albeit with small hints at something amiss – before panning out to reveal the landscape as it actually is: a ruined wasteland where the five are sole survivors, living inside their school.

With it’s cover blown, School-Live! purposefully chooses the serious route. Instead of reveling in zombie camp, it uses Yuki’s fractured mental state to create dramatic tension that permeates the series. Suddenly a trip to restock supplies from the school store is complicated not only by the existence of zombified former classmates, but Yuki’s obliviousness. The girls pass it off as a test of courage, but their excursion has a heaviness to it simply because of Yuki’s presence.

What will happen if Yuki meets a zombie? Will her mind simply break, placing all of them in further danger?

Suddenly, the weight of standard zombie tropes – like Kurumi’s aforementioned romantic-turned-tragic encounter with her senior – are all the heavier through the framework of Yuki’s refusal to accept reality. The hoops that teacher Megumi and the other girls of the School Living Club have to jump through in order to keep Yuki’s mental state intact create the necessary tension to elevate School-Live! above others of its ilk.

Are we like you? I can’t be sure

Of the scene as she turns.

We are strange in our worlds,

But we are young

– Supergrass, “Alright”

In a standard narrative of special teenagers, the special – be it a superpower, ability to slay vampires, or magic – is held in high esteem, especially upon discovery. There’s a reason why, “Yer a wizard, Harry.” rings true with so many readers. After all, who doesn’t want to leave their figurative cupboard underneath the stairs and be introduced to a world of magic?

Who doesn’t want to be special?

The cost of becoming special often presents the mundane as desirable or, at the very least, worthy of one’s attention. Special also complicates the usual wish to fit in or be normal. Young adult literature and media often misses the tug and pull between the two. How does one resonate with the desire to be special while also taking note of the difficult time one has as a teenager who stands out?

Charlotte has special teenagers. In fact, the entirety of the series is dedicated to teens with superpowers. Like many of the narratives before it, these powers are both a blessing and a curse. However, the way Charlotte handles the powers themselves as well as adolescence as a whole sets it apart from the rest.

First, the powers themselves come either with specific rules or as incomplete versions of how similar abilities are presented in other fantasy or science-fiction works. Yuu Otosaka can possess others, but only for five seconds. Nao Tomori can become invisible, but only to one person at a time. Joujirou Takajou can teleport, but can’t control where he stops.

More importantly, these powers manifest in one’s adolescence, and disappear once it passes, much like adolescence as a whole.

It’s not unusual for supernatural powers to act as real-life analogues. The supernatural presumably stays in these stories, acting as a genuine stand-in for adolescence itself. Once you become a teenager, your body starts doing unrecognizable and oft-uncontrollable things that you usually grow into through maturation. The ready-made comparisons to a werewolf transformation or similar supernatural metamorphosis are all too easy, and learning to live with one’s self is always part of the process.

However, Charlotte doesn’t stop there. It adds serious repercussions for the special kids who are caught by scientists and subsequently turned into human lab rats.

Here’s where it becomes impossible to ignore the pedigree of Charlotte. The series’ writer, Jun Maeda, is infamously known for co-founding Key/Visual Arts and penning many of the company’s visual novels – Air, Kanon, Clannad, and Little Busters among others – along with the more recent Angel Beats!. All of these aforementioned series dabble in the melodramatic and the supernatural, often leading to the lead character’s, or one of the heroines’, untimely demise. One comes to anticipate death in Maeda’s works more often than not, to the point where they’re expected catalysts for the player character or protagonist. Naturally, for some viewers, this causes death to lose its dramatic weight.

Angel Beats! took a slightly different tack, placing its characters in the afterlife already. There, the concern became disappearing or passing on from the limbo-like setting. Much like previous Key works, there is a distinct lack of adults, leaving the adolescents to figure things out on their own without guidance. Charlotte takes this a step further, making all known adult authority figures the enemy: potential agents of scientists that would ruin the teens’ lives.

Well-known adages for teenagers include that they’ll learn when they get older, or that the awkwardness will pass. While it’s true that the powers presented in Charlotte will pass with adolescence, the end result should they be captured by scientists – as demonstrated by Nao’s older brother – will be arguably worse than dying.

This effectively makes the world of Charlotte, especially the supernatural school that Yuu, Nao, and others attend, one isolated from adults. Whenever a new talent is discovered, it’s all up to the kids to suss out who it is and convince them of their impending plight. There are silly moments, and the teens of Charlotte are conveniently allowed to run free – as of the series’ third episode – allowing the supernatural elements of the series to both shine and take a backseat when necessary.

The 20 percent, 60 percent, 20 percent rule is often applied by corporate management to streamline performance within a business setting. Top-tier employees make up an average of 20 percent of one’s workforce, approximately 60 percent of those employees are acceptable performers, and another 20 percent won’t regularly meet expectations.

One of the key tasks of a manager applying this assessment principle is to focus on ridding themselves of the bottom 20 percent while aiding members of the 60 in becoming proud members of the top 20 percent. It’s important to note that this framework can be applied at any time with the purpose of reevaluating and consolidating one’s staff.

With that being said, who are the G-Crew’s top performers?

“We’re heroes, so isn’t it more important that we focus on helping people in need?”

– Tsubasa Misudachi, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 4

Tsubasa Misudachi looks to be in the top 20 percent. She, along with Gel Sadra, stopped Rhythm Suzuki’s attack on Rui Ninomiya before Rui died. In the process, she made herself a household name. With outlets like the Millione Show more than willing to play her

presumed heroism on a constant video loop, Tsubasa’s currently in the public’s good graces.

However, what Tsubasa has failed to realize in her meteoric rise to stardom is that her methods – guided by her own inner moral compass alone – presume that her actions are the right ones. While no one would argue that Tsubasa bears ill will, or that her intentions are not good, her thought process fails to take into account the feelings of others.

“If everyone united their hearts and tackled their problems together, they’d be able to solve everything!”

– Gel Sadra, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 4

The irony is that her closest gatchaman partner and friend is Gel Sadra, one who can mine others’ thoughts. If Tsubasa had cared enough to want to know what Rui was thinking, Gel could have easily read Rui’s mind. However, Gel has ideas of his own, and they line up perfectly with Tsubasa’s singular way of thinking. Both want to unify the world so that it will become free of conflict.

There are obvious limitations to this line of thinking, even with Gel’s ability to poll the human mind. With so many thoughts to process, Gel presumably relays the mean of the information he gathers, which would change based on sample size, location, etc. A large part of Earth’s primitive nature – in the words of Paiman – is the variety of thoughts from one end of the spectrum to the other.

“When people aren’t united, there can be pretty sparkles when they clash!”

– Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 4

With Tsubasa and Gel firmly in the 60 percent range, Hajime Ichinose is now highlighted as a candidate for top-tier G-Crew status. In spite of Tsubasa affirming that Hajime is heartless or unfeeling towards others, Hajime’s outlook is crucial in these types of arguments. In Gatchaman Crowds, Hajime’s ability to consider others’ personal contexts made her an indispensable G-Crew member.

In a statement echoing her initial commentary on Rui in Crowds‘ sixth episode, Hajime remarks that Gel doesn’t have to change as much as he has. She’s also cryptically warned by Berg Katze that Gel’s continued presence will be dangerous for Katze. What sets Hajime apart from her peers is that she considers Katze’s input – until he begins spewing bile – when no one else does. One of the best qualities of a top performer is an innate sense of independence, which Hajime certainly possesses.

Crowds insight also made it a point to return to Hajime’s number one weakness: her inability to communicate her thoughts and ideas to others. Now is the time for Hajime to step up, but she continues to lack a method of communication beyond vague words and wild gestures.

Conspicuously absent from the CROWDS debate is their creator, Rui Ninomiya. Sidelined by injuries sustained in the rooftop encounter with Rhythm, Rui spends the entirety of insight‘s fourth episode in a hospital bed while others debate the merits of Rui’s product.

CROWDS and GALAX are both close to Rui’s heart and personal ideals. While Tsubasa didn’t mean to harm Rui in her rescue attempt, she likely has lost Rui’s trust. Without a method to communicate to Rui, the other G-Crew members – along with the users of Rui’s product – are left to presume Rui’s wishes.

“People have principles that can’t be sacrificed, even if it means losing their lives.”

– O.D., Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 3

The most interesting G-Crew member, and possible top-tier performer, is O.D. Harnessed with the potential to destroy the world, should he activate his gatchaman powers, O.D. usually comments offhandedly on the situation in a casual tone, rarely expressing his opinion. The fourth episode of insight marks one of the few instances where O.D. has made a point to exert any sort of pressure in an argument, and he speaks out against Jou Hibiki’s anti-CROWDS sentiments.

O.D. also briefly stopped Tsubasa, asking her the important question of whether she would still fight, even if it meant going against Rui’s wishes. He lets her go when she immediately answers, “Yes,” but has obvious trepidation in doing so. There are also interesting parallels to be had between O.D.’s powers – which are unable to be activated, lest he destroy Earth – and Tsubasa’s which require the catalyst of anger or a deep desire to help someone. In many ways, O.D. seems like an evolved Tsubasa, one who was a member of the 60 percent, but was promoted thanks to experience and growth.

“Suzuki Rhythm did a good job.”

– Jou Hibiki, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 4

For the purpose of this exercise, Jou falls into the bottom 20 percent category, not necessarily for his performance, but his influence. Bottom-tier performers are notorious for their negative impact, specifically on the members of the 60 percent. Jou was always a stodgy representative of the old superhero guard, and he returns to those inflexible roots in this episode.

Hajime is quick to point out, once everyone starts arguing, that this is what she loves about when people and ideas clash. Like Gel Sadra, Hajime has the ability to bring people together, but not by unifying their thoughts. In evaluating the G-Crew, or groups of people in general, she eschews stratification and allows for expression instead.

“Strange friend, past, present, and to be;

Love deeplier, darklier understood;

Behold, I dream a dream of good,

And mingle all the world with thee.”

– In Memoriam A.H.H., Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Little is revealed of Yuki Takeya in the immediate aftermath.

While School-Live! is never shown from her viewpoint, Yuki’s attendance is incredibly important to the series’ direction. When Yuki is present, everything is different from the flow of conversation between girls to the visual look and style. In it’s premiere, School-Live! spent almost the entirety of the episode in blissful ignorance alongside Yuki, with small hints leaving a breadcrumb trail leading up to the last-minute reveal. From this point on, we know that Yuki’s mind has broken, and any narration or point of view from her perspective is compromised.

However, as School-Live! eschews telling the story through any one character – even when episodes focus on a specific individual – the importance of just how much is compromised can often be forgotten as a viewer attempts to put together the pieces. Yuki’s mind is shattered, but the extent of her psychological damage is unknown. The girls themselves admit this in a conversation about Yuki, when Miki asks if they should do something about her delusions.

Following the series fourth episode, the figurative curtain is pulled back a bit more, revealing the depth of Yuki’s broken psyche. Their cheerful teacher Megu-nee allows Kurumi to drive her car for no logical reason, and the keys are never touched by Megu-nee herself. Additionally Megu-nee’s timely appearance in the vehicle’s backseat in spite of her absence in Kurumi’s mad dash to reach the car give the viewer a key piece of the puzzle.

Yuki is the only person who can “see” Megu-nee, because Megu-nee is already dead.

This in and of itself is another “soft reveal” of sorts. Combined with an introduction to Miki Naoki’s story in Episode 4, an astute viewer can begin to piece together a timeline. Yuki is purposefully shown as distraught upon seeing the extent of the zombie infestation, as well as Kurumi killing their classmate; however, the viewer has no way of knowing if that is the moment that her mind breaks, or if something worse was the cause. All the viewer does know, is that at some point between writing her letter in the teacher’s lounge and magically appearing in the backseat of her own car, Megumi Sakura died.

School-Live! never breaks its own rules. Examining previous episodes after watching the fourth will only reveal that the clues were already there – additionally, smaller things fall into place, like why Taroumaru is afraid of Miki. Yuki always talks to Megu-nee first, before the others do, with the exception of choice flashbacks shown in Episode Three. Often Yuki will restate what Megu-nee says, effectively translating it to the others. Additionally, Miki is the most uncomfortable when “Megu-nee” is present due to her joining the group later in the timeline, when Megu-nee had already died.

“It’s okay. Everyone cares about you. They’re all trying to save you. As long as you have them, you don’t need to worry about any ghost.”

– Megumi Sakura (Megu-nee) to Yuki Takeya, School-Live!, Episode 2

While Yuki is indubitably delusional, it’s always Megu-nee who stops her from doing something completely rash, or reminding her how valuable her friends are. Megu-nee is the part of Yuki’s brain that recognizes that there is still something awful happening, even if the rest of her mind refuses to realize it.

Brand loyalty is often difficult to come by. If a company can convince their consumer base that a specific positive trait of one of their products extends to their entire merchandise catalogue or message, it often translates into a sales boost across the board. A favorable outlook on one product, or political value often creates a cognitive bias that extends to the entire company or party platform respectively.

This is a halo effect.

More specifically with political candidates, one positive trait can cause potential voters to eschew involving themselves with researching an entire platform if they agree with one specific aspect of it. Their agreement with that one facet will easily give them enough of a reason to vote for a specific person, or in the case of Gatchaman Crowds insight, one specific alien.

Gel Sadra is perceived to be well-meaning, charming, and attractive – all points that aid a political candidate in front of a camera, just ask John F. Kennedy.

“Elections are intended to have each individual think for themselves and choose the candidate they want to trust the future to. This having people choose with the flow is definitely wrong. But still, I can’t let CROWDS roam free. Even if the means are wrong, this will achieve my justice!”

– Jou Hibiki to Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 5

Jou Hibiki is more than well-aware of his own biases, admitting as much to Hajime prior to the election. His backing and subsequent marketing for Gel Sadra is all in support of his own interests, which require the abolishment of CROWDS. Keenly remembering the deaths caused, Jou doesn’t trust humanity with CROWDS, and still shows personal approval of a more traditional, vertical heroism.

However, unlike Tsubasa Misudachi – who is in well over her head at this point – Jou is aware that what he is doing is not necessarily the best or right thing to do. Gel Sadra has no knowledge of humanity, and additionally can only translate others’ thoughts without context. As Rui succinctly puts it, people are currently scared and dismantling CROWDS is an easy solution for them to latch onto. It additionally removes their personal responsibility and funnels their indecision and fear into one value of Gel Sadra’s platform. Jou knows all of this and yet accepts it because he wants CROWDS to be removed from society.

Tsubasa is simple. She fully admits that she’s simple and expresses no desire to understand the nuances of her position or social standing. While this stems from good intentions, her inability to see the negatives of Gel Sadra becoming Prime Minister along with her easily-swayed emotions make Tsubasa a prime marketing target. She’s a poster child for the halo effect, as one minute detail can immediately change her mind on a larger issue.

This makes her a perfect, albeit dangerous, spokesperson for Gel whose main campaign negative is that Gel is not originally from Earth. As a bridge between humanity and Gel, Tsubasa could use their power within specific social contexts; however, she unfortunately refuses to make an effort to understand those context or the social climate. Her simple outlook proves effective in getting Gel elected, and her promises are easily swallowed by the masses.

“On the contrary, planets where Sadra has taken up residence have been relieved of issues such as crime, bullying, or war.”

– Paiman, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 2

As for Gel Sadra, the danger comes from how Gel’s powers are applied more than their actual existence, much like Rui’s CROWDS. Gel lacks context or knowledge to understand how the mined thoughts and emotions are relevant, instead choosing to apply the quickest and easiest answer. For Gel’s political campaign platform, this means the abolishment of CROWDS. JJ’s initial prophecy described Gel as a “delicate ray of light.” Paiman also asserted that Gel was not particularly dangerous in his initial introduction of the alien.

This furthers the idea that Gel is a bit like CROWDS. As a marketing tool for gathering insight on what humanity is thinking, or what they want, Gel is extremely useful. However, translating those thoughts and emotions into what will benefit humanity the most requires a defter touch that neither Tsubasa nor Gel possess. And now this alien has been placed in a considerable position of power.

“Do you think everyone’s personally aggrieved by his gaffes and mistakes? Of course not. Just because that’s how the wind blows, they’ll attack the same things.”

– Rhythm Suzuki, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 5

Where Gel Sadra and Tsubasa find positive results from the halo effect, former Prime Minister Suguyama bears the brunt of the negative effects of a similar phenomenon: a reverse-halo or devil effect. Instead of one aspect reinforcing a greater whole positively, a devil effect is when a specific detail affects a larger outlook or campaign negatively. With his approval of CROWDS already causing his popularity to fall, his on-air gaffes only negatively reinforce his overall campaign. Suddenly everything he does is scrutinized with a less-than-positive framework.

In his explanation, Rhythm Suzuki returns to the 20-60-20 percent principle, saying that most will always trend towards affirming public opinion without thought. As long as public opinion is easily influenced, the rest of the masses will follow.

“It’s a secret! Because it’s an election.”

– Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 5

Most interesting is Hajime’s purported silence. In the first season, Hajime was always the person who dared to explore others’ personal contexts regardless of how others felt, always coming to her own conclusion. This continues in Gatchaman Crowds insight, as she remains uninfluenced with a grey thought bubble.

The series makes a point to show how influential Hajime could be if she wanted to be. Like Tsubasa, she already is given significant social clout due to her status as a gatchaman. However, unlike Tsubasa, Hajime does not use it to affect the election results in any way.

In early elementary school, during an election year, I begged my parents to tell me who they voted for. They refused. Every election following, I asked them who they voted for. Every year they refused to tell me.

To this day, even as an adult, I still have no idea who they vote for.

Now it’s become a running gag between the three of us, with the additional anecdote that my mother apparently writes in my father’s name when she disagrees with all of the choices. As an aside, my father would make a terrible president.

At that time, it was infuriating. However, I now realize that they likely wanted me to make my own decisions, do research, and have fairly educated reasoning behind said choices.

Gatchaman Crowds‘ Hajime Ichinose seems to ascribe to a similar school of thought.

“You can’t just blindly follow the internet.”

– Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds, Episode 3

While Hajime is introduced as a savvy individual who is up-to-date in her knowledge of social trends, she also maintains a certain distance from said trends, never losing herself to them. Each obstacle she faces is tackled, for better or for worse, with her unique problem-solving methods. Hajime is not above using or even trumpeting the convenience of social media platforms like GALAX, but she maintains a relative emotional distance from them.

Everything Hajime touches, she pokes or prods at first, challenging the reasoning behind it. She tries to communicate with the MESS instead of defeating them. Her first human project is Sugune Tachibana, forcing him to reevaluate why he is a member of the G-Crew, and the meaning or reasoning behind his actions. And she’s the only gatchaman who attempts to communicate with Berg Katze rather than fighting him.

Sugune isn’t the only person affected by Hajime’s outlook, as her perspective also forces Paiman, Utsutsu, Rui Ninomiya, and Jou Hibiki to all examine their respective viewpoints. This is where most who dislike Hajime find her character to be grating and noisy, presuming that it’s her point of view that must be respected over all others. While I’d personally argue that this was not the case – even in the first season – Gatchaman Crowds insight makes it clear that Hajime is not as focused on bringing others to her side, so to speak, as she is understanding the “why” behind others’ actions. In the process, her line of questioning forces one to reexamine their own thoughts and separate them from the mob or prevailing social atmosphere.

The first season of Gatchaman Crowds concerned itself with personal context, something that Hajime seemed keenly aware of at all times. In certain cases – like those of Utsutsu and Sugune – it allowed them to put their values at the forefront of their actions, rather than doing things out of fear or duty respectively. For Jou and Rui, it meant a clearer understanding of what – above all else – was most important to them.

Now each action Jou takes, even if he acknowledges that the methods are wrong, is a step towards achieving his own justice. Likewise Rui came away from the first season’s events with an optimistic outlook that, with the right tools, humanity will eventually update itself. One has an incredible distrust of others while the other has developed a seemingly unshakeable faith. Jou and Rui’s perspectives are particularly interesting when they come up against Tsubasa Misudachi’s convictions.

“Is self-motivation really necessary? Sorry. What you’re talking about is too difficult for me to understand a lot. Can’t the world be more simple? Help those in need. Protect those who are suffering.”

– Tsubasa Misudachi, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 5

Hajime can only prod so much before Tsubasa simply speaks over her. So attached is Tsubasa to her own beliefs that she eschews all else, forming a simple but near impenetrable viewpoint. Unlike the other members of the G-Crew, Tsubasa defaults to standard ideas of heroism and the fervent wish that things could be simpler. Her point of view is indubitably necessary, but when it makes up the prevailing atmosphere, it undoes much of the personal responsibility that people should have when they act or make a choice.

The end of Gatchaman Crowds showed a situation where the force of a mob mentality – with a dash of gamification – was used for good. Insight is poised on the precipice of showing just how dangerous that same type of mob mentality can be.

In an environment that has become infinitely more complex, Hajime requires time to process her own thoughts. This is both a strength and weakness, as it offers her a better understanding of multi-faceted situations, but the rest of the world will hardly wait for her to fully process what is happening. In a way, the entirety of the first season can be seen as a Hajime poking and prodding her way to her own personal conclusion and merging with Katze. While she has an immediate effect on others, her own thoughts are informed much more slowly, and with extensive research.

Unfortunately, Hajime’s largest failing continues to be her inability to communicate. In the first season, she spoke of how she wanted people to come together, but it’s not in the same manner that Gel Sadra wants all minds united. She also spoke of “what heroes do,” but with different nuances than Tsubasa Misudachi’s dramatic Episode 3 transformation. She coyly will not reveal who she voted for when asked, even while carrying significant social clout and influence.

With the prevailing, ever-shifting winds of the mob dictating the pace of insight, Hajime’s presence has been significantly muted. However, when said atmosphere of the people inevitably changes, Hajime will indubitably be a crucial part of cleaning up the mess.

For any retailer, corporation, or even political campaign, there is guaranteed to be an entire plan of action focused on customer or consumer engagement. Most retail stores have an “engagement” step in their actual selling process, and politicians visit very specific places to shake hands, sign autographs, and kiss the occasional baby. As Jou so succinctly said in insight‘s previous episode, people value face to face communication, even when it’s less efficient than texting, or chatting on GALAX.

When people feel like they’re genuinely cared for, they’re more likely to open themselves up to whatever you’re selling.

Many things happen in Gatchaman Crowds insight Episode 6. The government is morphing rapidly into something unrecognizable, and things move incredibly quickly once Gel Sadra comes to office – far too quickly for people to realize the long term consequences of their actions.

However, the episode itself moves slowly visually. It starts big, and then meanders to finally focus on one specific couple.

It’s no coincidence that this elderly couple – located far away from the central government in Tokyo but in a place close to Tsubasa Misudachi’s heart – is shown in the series’ cold open. These are the people that Gel is trying to reach, and people that Tsubasa already cares about. Likewise, the softer, gentler, more natural way of living makes the perfect backdrop for Gel’s recent actions as the country’s new Prime Minister.

It’s nice that Gel Sadra is holding morning breathing exercises and calisthenics with his constituents. First it’s only him and Tsubasa, but it slowly grows into a large gathering of people. When Hajime joins in, she breathes much slower than the rest, catching Gel’s attention because she’s not synchronized with the others.

While Gel could make the case that the point of these breathing exercises is to unify their breathing patterns, Hajime would likely say that they’re a means of relaxation. Even something as simple as breathing exercises points to the yawning chasm between Gel’s outlook and Hajime’s.

Gel learned the exercises from Tsubasa. He knows the action of how to do them, and the fact that your breathing should, presumably, match that of the person next to you. However, he doesn’t know the why, the purpose.

Additionally, Tsubasa was repeatedly chastised by her great-grandfather for “doing them wrong” or “not exhaling properly” in the first episode of insight. Nowhere did he say that their breathing had to be as one and his criticisms, while vague, could point to a more individualized way of thinking. What he may be trying to say to Tsubasa is that the exercises aren’t actually helping her calm down or relax – also evidenced by Tsubasa’s overall jumpiness, insistence on interrupting, and immediately griping that she is exhaling properly when she’s not.

She’s going through the action properly, but without genuinely involving herself in that action, it’s ultimately meaningless. Similarly, Gel participates in government much in the same way that he performs the breathing exercises, without meaning.

“Tsubasa’s not a gatchaman yet. You’re still Tsubasa!”

-Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 6

In fact, the only thing that Tsubasa does with meaning or purpose is transform into a gatchaman. Unable to become a superhero on command, Tsubasa only transforms when she becomes angry or moved enough to do so. She indubitably believes that helping others is a good thing, but doesn’t really know much about her own feelings – similar to how Gel doesn’t know what color his own insight bubble would be – beyond that.

The other G-Crew members are more assured in their personal beliefs, where Tsubasa – in spite of the belief in helping others guiding her – is not ready to transform at will. She’s too impressionable and lacks thought. Without emotionally engaging in the actions she takes, Tsubasa isn’t a gatchaman yet.

The current perception of traditional, so-called outbound, marketing is incredibly negative. Cold calling is a thing of the past, with the “do not call list,” caller ID, or the lack of a landline phone altogether. Most people employ ad-blockers online – even if they do purposefully disable them for sites they want to support – to rid themselves of website banners or pop-ups. Most snail mail is easily tossed into the nearest trash or recycling bin. And anyone who is asked by their company to dare and knock on the doors of people’s houses is certainly to be pitied – even girl scouts selling their well-known cookies can barely get away with this anymore.

Outbound marketing is the more traditional newspaper or magazine advertisement, designed to introduce the masses to one’s product. It’s easy to fall back on to create an initial contact point, or if one isn’t internet-savvy enough to maximize the potential of online inbound marketing. A mixture of both usually yields the best results, even with outbound marketing’s negative connotations.

Episode 0 of Gatchaman Crowds insight was titled “inbound,” which is the vastly preferred marketing method of today. Its title was apropos as the episode itself – without utilizing a more direct marketing plan like a magazine advertisement – acted as marketing for the upcoming second season of Gatchaman Crowds. Inbound marketing is far more organic, using social media campaigning, blogging, and search engine optimization.

Both the first season of Crowds and insight have touched upon moving away from more traditional ways of doing things. This comes full circle in insight‘s seventh episode when Gel Sadra introduces a new, third option to their smartphone voting process: Let Gel Sadra handle it. The change comes about after a visibly suffering Gel polls his most loyal constituents, arriving at the conclusion that people would rather surrender their autonomy to him as opposed to having a say in the decision themselves. Naturally, both Rui and Hajime are opposed to this idea, having spent the entire first season attempting to shake off the trappings of Japan’s traditional vertical society.

While Gel likely doesn’t mean to create a dictatorship – he lacks the historical context of such governments on Earth – the new voting system gives him near-absolute authority under the guise of everyone continuing to participate in the decision-making by voting. What they’re actually doing is surrendering their opinion and decision to another person without thought. Because his vision and actions have been successful thus far, people readily trust and accept him as their leader, creating a new version of the previous vertical power structure.

“This may be conflict, but it’s nothing to be sad about. Everyone’s just searching for their own answer. You shouldn’t be afraid.”

– Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 7

Episode 7 of Gatchaman Crowds insight is additionally focused on timetables. Humanity is finicky and often rushes, even when it’s not advisable. Rui has learned this the hard way, and while the GALAX creator has now stepped back from championing CROWDS, Rui remains steadfast in the belief that people should think things over and come to their own conclusions. Hajime is also a large proponent of this, insisting that Gel shouldn’t be afraid of differing opinions, even when Gel can’t understand.

In spite of Gel’s good intentions, he can’t take on everything himself. Furthermore, he lacks the understanding of humanity’s nuance to make sense of why uniting everyone’s hearts won’t achieve the peace he desires. It’s no wonder that Berg Katze ran screaming in the other direction, as Berg was one who preyed on the individual and specific desires of others. Up against a being like Gel who has no concept of individuality or independent thought, Berg doesn’t stand a chance even with his ability to take on the form of others.

The episode closes with a literal translation of “outbound” when, full of the thoughts of humanity, Gel vomits a number of insight bubbles, creating the “gentle beasts” that JJ prophesized. Similar to Gel, they likely are neither negative nor positive; however, like traditional outbound marketing, they appear before people and force a contact point.

“Then, if we stay together, we’ll be immortal!”

-Yukari Hinata, Yuyushiki, Episode 5

Nearly all high school slice-of-life stories – K-ON!, Yuyushiki, Hidamari Sketch, Azumanga Daioh, even Free! immediately come to mind – pit the looming implications of graduation against the every day life of series participants. High school is a perfect fishbowl setting that allows for exploration in friendship group dynamics while the audience puts on their rose-tinted nostalgia glasses and celebrates their personal youth through a happier framework.

Graduation becomes something often dreaded by in-universe characters, as it will inevitably tear them apart. While they scramble about organizing their future plans, graduation to the viewer becomes the final curtain that closes across the stage, effectively ending the narrative.

As the audience is presumably watching a slice of the characters’ lives, the implication is that life goes on after that series or manga volume, just as their life continued – or will continue – following high school. It is this structure that School-Live! plays with.

When Yuki Takeya comes up with something for her club to do – be it a trip to the mall, sports festival, or graduation album – the event is almost always something that would also happen in a so-called normal slice-of-life series. This creates obvious tension because the world that Yuki and her club inhabit is one ravaged by zombies. Their new high school life is a more literal fishbowl as they are trapped within the school.

As the newest member of the School Living Club, Miki Naoki supplies an important critical viewpoint. While the rest of the club hides their emotions a bit better – and with Yuki living blissfully in her own ignorance – Miki is a bit more nervous and high-strung. She’s constantly preoccupied with her own pessimistic thoughts of their situation, to the point where it previously forced her into staying put rather than moving forward. When Yuki comes up with a sports festival, Miki is the person who wonders why they are having fun rather than something more serious.

At the end of School-Live!’s sixth episode, Miki realizes why Yuki’s attitude, even if it is based on a delusional outlook, is so important. When she was trapped in the mall, Miki’s friend Kei challenged her to look past simply surviving and move forward to living. Yuki’s presence transforms the School Living Club from a club about surviving a zombie apocalypse in a school to truly having life in spite of those dire conditions.

Zombification has been equated with many things – slavery, consumerism, general conformity, among others – and in School-Live! it’s mashed directly with a slice-of-life schoolgirl narrative, somewhat replacing the impending doom of graduation. The important thing for Yuki and company is to find a way to both survive and live in a manner that means something to them personally. Like graduation, death, or simply being an adult, a zombie is a nebulous thing that cannot be defined without becoming one. And that lack of knowledge can be terrifying.

“All people’s memories are vague. That’s why you need to do things like talk to people and keep a journal. That makes memories become more tangible. At least that’s what I think, even if the person that it’s about goes away.”

-Megumi Sakura (Megu-nee), School-Live!, Episode 7

Much like a typical high school slice-of-life setting, the girls of School-Live! won’t be able to live in the school forever. Eventually, they’ll have to move on, with the hope that there are other survivors out there. While a lack of knowledge is almost always a constant source of fear, in this one specific case it also offers hope.

When Hajime Ichinose was chosen as a member of the new G-Crew, her viewpoint wasn’t initially welcomed – both by the in-universe cast and members of the viewing audience. She was enigmatic, communicated poorly with her teammates, and – for some – appeared to represent an all-encompassing love of modernization and social media to the detriment of tradition. While insight has shown that the latter is not the case, Hajime purposeful tackling of the dusty cobwebbed corners of superherodom introduced many of the G-Crew to the modern age. Through the simple use of social media, she tore down many societal preconceptions, allowing gatchamen and the average human to work side-by-side for a greater cause.

Tsubasa Misudachi was chosen for a completely different, but equally important, reason.

Tsubasa is, above all else, simple. She fully admits this, and even embraces this fact. Emotionally volatile, Tsubasa acts long before her brain has a chance to catch up, embodying the traditional Red Ranger superhero archetype. Because she doesn’t often pause to think about what she’s doing, Tsubasa naturally cuts corners and easily jumps to conclusions. Her emotions constantly shift and dictate her course of action.

When Tsubasa is first introduced, she is every bit the typical harried teenager protagonist. With a cheery and optimistic outlook, Tsubasa also rushes through everything, fervently wishing for maturity and a place within her family’s fireworks business. She introduces her great-grandfather proudly as a Nagaoka celebrity before professing her desire to become just like him. This dream proves to be, if not false, without depth or thought.

“I just don’t want to see anyone feel sad anymore.”

-Tsubasa Misudachi, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 6

Perhaps Tsubasa honestly does want to become a pyrotechnician – the series hints at this by making one of her abilities a pathway of fireworks – but her attachment to that goal in the beginning of the series speaks more of how she goes along with the flow rather than thinking and coming to her own conclusion. She respects her great-grandfather and loves what he does, so naturally she wants to make fireworks just like him.

Following Tsubasa’s path since her Nagaoka debut reveals a Tsubasa who is so easily influenced by others that her dream changes throughout the series. Upon her initial gatchaman transformation, Tsubasa is swept up in becoming an ideal hero, and travels back to Tachikawa with the rest of the G-Crew. Later on in the series, when her great-grandfather still refuses to teach her how to create fireworks, Tsubasa angrily claims that her purpose has changed. Now, she wishes to make the world a better place using Gel Sadra’s vision. None of these dreams are bad, and Tsubasa’s intentions are always good; however, without considering wider consequences, others’ personal contexts, and what she herself genuinely thinks, all of her actions ultimately lack meaning.

“Are you talking about something difficult again? I don’t really understand difficult stuff, but I think the world right now is a much better world than when CROWDS were in it!”

– Tsubasa Misudachi, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 7

It’s effortless to point at Tsubasa and identify the many ways that her good intentions go sour, but ultimately where Tsubasa makes her mark is in her emotional resonance with the viewing audience. Tsubasa is remarkably easy to relate to because she’s so incorrigibly human. She conflates knowledge of a fact with understanding.  She vacillates wildly between agreeing and disagreeing with others, depending on the current social mood. And most abhorrently – but empathetically – she mentally shuts down by saying things are too complicated to avoid conflict.

The hint that Tsubasa, subconsciously, knows that blocking out all conflict is wrong lies in her inability to transform without significant emotional stimuli. Tsubasa says a lot of things, and does a lot of things, in the name of being a hero or becoming a gatchaman without truly believing in them.

“Lately, people are all ‘meh,’ but you’re ‘bam!’ You know? That’s why we really need you right now.”

– Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 4

The great irony of Tsubasa’s character is that she incorrectly equates peace with a world devoid of conflict, dedicates her life to creating this ideal world, and is also the character who creates the most conflict within the G-Crew’s ranks. Those asking why Tsubasa was chosen as a gatchaman need look no further than this fact. Her mere presence facilitates discussion because she constantly presses others.

Like Hajime’s odd forms of communication, Tsubasa’s natural tendency to be a catalyst is a double-edged sword. Where Hajime deliberates and asks questions, mining information from every facet of the discussion, Tsubasa – for better or for worse – jumps. Both are equally necessary for the Gatchaman Crowds insight narrative.

At first clustering, or cluster analysis, may seem like sorting or separation. In reality, identifying clusters is more about pattern recognition and observing the association between similar groups of industry or potential customers. Seeing where they overlap, and where they don’t, paints a more nuanced picture of complex relationships between people or businesses that, at first, appear identical.

The world that Tsubasa Misudachi and Gel Sadra have created is a false utopia. Prior to the arrival of the Kuu, the atmosphere was primed with Gel Sadra’s promise to make the world one. Spurred on by Tsubasa, the two went about using his innate ability to mine thoughts and emotions in order to decide Japan’s future.

Unfortunately, Gel Sadra’s insight is faulty due to his lack of understanding. He has no context for humanity, and therefore can only follow the vague direction of the thoughts he collects. When looking at the cluster of human thoughts, he sees only the similarities and none of the independent characteristics or complex relationships. At his side is Tsubasa, who is incredibly naive and easily influenced by her own emotions as well as the actions of others. Her intentions are well-meaning, but she refuses to truly learn about others or herself, rarely formulating an opinion beyond blanket statements of the greater good.

Their leadership fabricates a world that, at first, votes on what do do immediately, going with the flow and giving little thought to the results. When that isn’t enough – and Gel becomes frustrated that the world hasn’t become one – the “Let Sadra decide” button is introduced, and citizens of Japan leave their critical thinking by the wayside, forcing Gel to make decisions for them.

“Well, yeah, because we can’t become one. But there will be a time where we’ll become one. Now’s not the time though.”

-Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 8

This places noticeable stress and strain on Gel, both physically and emotionally. When Hajime questions Tsubasa about Gel’s current state – as well as the state of the world – Tsubasa bristles with her usual overly-defensive demeanor. Hajime is all about people coming together for the sake of the common good, but not without still recognizing individuals’ talents and personalities. She sees beyond the similar nature of bodies in the cluster and into the detailed specifics that lie underneath, including Gel’s individual well-being and behavior.

Ultimately, Japan was prepped for the Kuu by Tsubasa and Gel, which makes their arrival all the more terrifying – even before Jou watched as his friend was swallowed by one in the episode’s waning moments. In a world where people no longer think for themselves, even when important questions are posed, people default to turning their responsibilities over to Gel and living blissfully unaware. The Kuu’s ability to create false feelings of general euphoria – reminiscent of the soma drug in Aldous Huxley’s “Brave New World” – amplifies Gatchaman Crowds insight‘s Japan as one of growing obliviousness and lack of thought.

No sooner are the Kuu introduced than they are welcomed with open arms because they seem nice, just as most seem happy in Gel Sadra’s paradise. Gel Sadra is supposedly good, therefore these creatures born of his insight ability must be good as well. Everything moves at a rapid pace, driven by instant gratification with neither thought nor criticism. The Kuu brush aside Hajime’s questions in a similar manner to Tsubasa, by saying that she’s too complex, too serious, or incomprehensible. Thinking is bad, feeling happy is good.

One only has to look at Gel, and his current physical state, to see how destructive this type of society is. First it was the G-Crew who became obsolete thanks to Gel Sadra. Now it’s Gel, who is also in obvious pain, falling out of favor as these new doughy aliens that induce happy feelings take his place. While Gel continues to grapple with why the world isn’t becoming one, humanity slowly separates itself again into an “us” and “them,” between those who love the Kuu and those who don’t. Gel can’t understand the Kuu either, because he was never able to understand human feelings on anything but the most superficial level. The creepiest part in all of this is that the Kuu are born of a nebulous emotional stew – which at some level is incredibly human and also specific to the individuals that Gel collected insight from – that always lacked critical analysis from those closest to it: Gel Sadra and Tsubasa Misudachi.

Previously, Gatchaman Crowds insight covered outbound marketing through the arrival of the Kuu. To review, they were a product that was automatically shipped and delivered to Gel Sadra’s constituents – without his own knowledge – and their intoxicating auras along with their happy personalities immediately ingratiated them to the Japanese people. Like more traditional examples of outbound marketing like junk mail and cold calls, the Kuu necessitate an action. The general populace must choose to opt out in order to rid themselves of this particularly virulent strain.

Unfortunately, this also requires standing up to the prevailing atmosphere, something that the Kuu actively make difficult.

“I just wanted to make a peaceful world where no one got hurt.”

-Tsubasa Misudachi, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 9

No one in Gatchaman Crowds insight has embodied the prevailing atmosphere quite like Tsubasa. Impetuous and hot-headed, Tsubasa is driven by her ideals and what she believes to be the right thing to do. The problem is that “the right thing to do” varies from person to person and is often based on their own personal context. If the words “personal context” ring a bell, it’s because that’s what the entire first season of Gatchaman Crowds focused on: the relationship between one’s actions physically in public or digitally on social media networks and their personal lives.

Tsubasa reaches a breaking point in insight‘s ninth episode where she can no longer reconcile the actions taken by the Kuu in the name of becoming one. Naturally, Gel Sadra doesn’t understand this, and why should he? As previously made apparent by the series, Gel knows next to nothing of what people want because sorting through that noxious stew of feelings takes both time and understanding. He can read the thoughts of others all he wants, but he’ll never actually understand the why or how behind those thoughts. This is precisely what makes him so dangerous.

Taking the simple route is Jou Hibiki. Jou can understand the complexity of others; however, his own personal actions are quite simple. Citing Gel Sadra as the root of the Kuu conflict, he straightforwardly goes on the attack. Like Tsubasa, he takes action when he feels that it’s the right thing to do or, in the specific case of Gel Sadra, it’s something for which he must take responsibility. That’s when he opts out. The parallels between Tsubasa and Jou are apparent, but the latter is infinitely more well-informed. Jou accepts that his own willingness to take certain actions – like getting Gel Sadra elected – if he thinks that those actions correspond with what he believes to be the greater good.

“Hajime, don’t be so serious. Become one with us and relax.”

Relax, hunh? That means everyone is worried, right?”

-a conversation between Kuu and Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 9

It would be easier if Gel Sadra had forcibly created the Kuu; however, they’re not his minions as much as a simple way out of citizens’ individual fears. Attacking Gel is pointless because he’s not the root cause of the problem. When questioned by Hajime, the Kuu are unconcerned with what they’re doing or who they are – similar to Gel Sadra himself – they just want everyone to relax and become one, eliminating troublesome thought. A carefully crafted, painfully human drug, the Kuu are escapism manifest in creepy, marshmallow, red white and blue bodies.

The very presence of the Kuu mean that the average in-universe human of insight is incredibly worried about something specific to them. This worry could be regarding something wide in scope, but the reasons behind the concern are likely deeply personal. Becoming one does nothing for this worry as reasoning changes. Worries themselves change. People will inevitably find themselves wanting to do different things and desiring unique circumstances for themselves. Ultimately, this is why the Kuu are bound to fail in the long run, even with their seductive siren’s song luring people in. It’s all a matter of when people choose to opt out.

“Gel, atmosphere is . . . it’s on this planet and . . . well . . . Anyway! It was really fun when everyone came together right? That’s called a good atmosphere.”

-Tsubasa Misudachi, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 1

Due to recent events in Gatchaman Crowds insight, it’s important to remember how little Gel Sadra knows and, more significantly, who he learns from.

First appearing as a child, Gel’s introduction to humanity is deftly navigated by Hajime Ichinose, who does nothing more than be herself. Hajime’s innate curiosity and desire to communicate with other beings – be they human or alien – cushions Gel’s landing, allowing Gel time to interact with a small group of people unhindered. Had Hajime and company not been warned of Gel’s arrival and appeared on the spot, it’s very likely that the innate, and understandable, fear of an alien crash-landing in their backyard would have directed Gel’s first contact with humanity to a far more negative end.

“Wow! Everyone’s so different. It’s pretty.”

-Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 1

Instead, Gel’s guides are Hajime and subsequently Tsubasa. Hajime takes the lead in Gel’s initial interactions with humans, but it’s Tsubasa who is left to explain and define things. As shown by Gel’s copying of Hajime and the MESS, Gel quickly learns by copying what others do. When Gel initially creates the insight bubbles, Hajime remarks at how pretty they are because they’re different. However, these words aren’t directed specifically at Gel, and it’s Tsubasa who is left to explain what a good atmosphere is.

Tsubasa’s inadequate explanation of atmosphere is coupled with a scene of slight discord in Tsubasa’s own house. When her great-grandfather declares that he won’t yet leave the family fireworks business to her, Tsubasa emotionally reacts, causing unrest among others in the room. This information is all translated by the varying colors and shapes of Gel’s insight bubbles.

Gel can’t fully grasp the situation himself, but he can note how the atmosphere now feels bad when everyone’s colors are different. Likewise, he can sense when the atmosphere feels good, and it’s always when everyone’s bubbles are unified. Through his natural capacity for copying – and his insight ability – it’s easy to see how this information, without context, would create a fervent desire to unify humanity. Above all, Gel is well-meaning, much like Tsubasa herself.

“This planet is in more disarray than I’d thought there’d be no conflict if everyone became united.”

-Gel Sadra, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 4

Possessing front-row tickets to Rhythm Suzuki’s showdown with Rui Ninomiya, Gel witnesses how devastating conflict can be. He additionally aids Tsubasa in rescuing Rui. In the process, he once again acts as a translator for humanity’s thoughts in that moment.

With a more tempered approach and partner, Gel’s ability would have been used differently. However, in the hands of someone like Tsubasa it’s dangerous. Tsubasa is simple and straightforward. Nearly everything is black and white for her as she refuses to see nuance in others’ actions, and Gel is someone who desperately needs someone to explain the nuances of humanity to him because it’s never something that he, as an alien, will inherently understand. Unfortunately, all he is taught is: conflict is bad, unity is good.

“It might feel nice when you’re surrounded by the atmosphere but, once people go too far in trying to become one, they silently put pressure on those who try to leave that atmosphere.”

“People are happier when they’re all one. Why don’t you understand that, Jou?”

-a conversation between Jou Hibiki and Gel Sadra, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 9

By the time someone does try to explain that nuance to Gel, it’s already too late. In taking another look at Gel’s actions, the way he learns by copying – another example of this is how he makes himself older to run for office – and how simply this is presented to him without context, one has to wonder how many of his thoughts are his own, and how many are simply learned behaviors.

If they are solely learned behaviors, he learned them from humans themselves, just like the Kuu.

“I am Sakura Megumi, I was the Japanese teacher at Megurigaoka Private High School . . . no, I am still the Japanese teacher. Even if this building no longer functions as a school.”

-from Megumi Sakura’s journal, School-Live!, Episode 3

Well-informed by copious amounts of Ann M Martin’s The Baby-Sitters Club, supplemented with  juicy stories from my own counselors and counselors-in-training – I’ve never understood the difference between the two aside from age – I somehow thought camp counselor was my dream summer job.

With one year of college behind us, my friends and I thought it would be a fantastic idea to become camp counselors together. Typical Wet Hot American Summer antics and stupidity ensued. We taught our kids “water pong” complete with red solo cups to keep them hydrated. We tanned, put on plays and dance routines with the kids, forged our way to the top of the ladder in the camp social and political structure, and even had a few romantic entanglements.

In spite of knowing that I was responsible for the welfare of approximately 10 to 20 children at a time – and tending to their mental health quite frequently – this still didn’t sink in for me until I had to use an EpiPen in an emergency bee-sting situation.

As I jammed a needle into the terrified girl’s thigh, I couldn’t help but wonder how 19 year-old me had been trusted with that amount of responsibility. How had that been allowed to happen? That’s not something you think about when you’re trying to get your 21 year-old lifeguard friend to buy beer for an after-hours party, or gossiping with the too-cool junior high campers who follow you around like adoring fangirls.

I knew that a serious situation could arise, but had never considered the emotional weight of someone’s life in my hands. And that was only one life, in a comparatively ideal situation.

School-Live! – in trying to piece together Megumi “Megu-nee” Sakura’s last moments and actions prior to her demise – paints the picture of a young high school teacher who cares deeply about her students but is overwhelmed and often intimidated by her students. Upon arriving to school, she is scolded by a superior for being too friendly and not authoritative enough. All of her recent texts are from her mother. Her dress, hairstyle, and accessories are all childlike in comparison to those around her.

These guileless qualities work in her favor and against it at different times. While certain students snicker at her and lament that she has it tough because people don’t take her seriously, Megu-nee is able to offer sage advice to Kurumi Ebisuzawa and Yuki Takeya, lending a non-judgmental sympathetic ear when necessary.

Megu-nee stands at the edge of the precipice separating childhood and falling into her own adult life. The event that pushes her off of the edge is the day that the presumed containment of a biological weapon fails. On that day, she truly becomes an adult and an authority figure, not because she wants to but because the situation requires it.

“Those within the vicinity of the infected must also be quarantined. Preservation of the human race takes ultimate priority over the lives of individuals. The lives of thousands, millions, rest on your shoulders. A kind and sympathetic heart is no longer a virtue.”

-from the school emergency manual, School-Live!, Episode 8

It’s not wholly clear when Megu-nee reads the school emergency manual, but it’s after the entire rooftop incident. While she attempted to keep morale high, control the situation as best as possible, and keep her charges safe, these words may have been repeating in her head.

A kind and sympathetic heart is no longer a virtue.

So Megu-nee cuts her hair. She assumes authority. She embraces the responsibility that she now has.

In the end, it’s her loving heart that causes her downfall. Megu-nee pens her memoirs, shown in the third episode, as it rains, and is presumably infected shortly thereafter, barricading herself behind a heavy door. Having read the manual, she uses the last of her sanity to lock herself in the secret emergency shelter so she doesn’t infect the girls. Her increasingly incoherent notes begin with “I’m sorry, I’m hungry” before devolving into scribbled nicknames of her students, “Kurumi, Yuki, Rii.” Perhaps the most tragic part is that, in retaining a small part of her muscle memory, she continues to write about her charges.

In Episode 10, Megu-nee’s self-imposed quarantine fails. The barrier she worked so hard for and sacrificed her life for is broken. Kurumi is bitten. Her students are adults now.

“The most terrifying thing in this world is atmosphere. You don’t remember at all how it’s made, but little by little, it was being forged with certainty. For our country, for peace, and to protect our livelihood  let’s all become one and do our best.”

-Yuru-jii, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 10

In an atmosphere where the Kuu are primarily born of people’s innermost fears, Rhythm Suzuki is given the perfect environment to sow his seeds of doubt and gathered influence.

Rhythm is well aware of how marketing works. This is how he initially garnered attention and spread his anti-CROWDS message to the masses. Start small, working one’s way up by relying on social media penetration, inbound marketing, and the likes of Millio Toriyama and his popular variety show.

Similar to beta-testing of a piece of software, network infrastructure, or video game, seed trialing introduces a specific product to a presumably accepting audience. The ultimate goal is not to test the product further – as it would be in most software or video game contexts – but to release and market a product to those who can then speak on its behalf as trusted members of the larger community.

In this way, it’s a bit like influencer marketing, where a notable individual who already has community backing or commands a large fanbase supports a specific product in front of their adoring fans. Earlier in Gatchaman Crowds insight, Tsubasa could have been seen as an influencer – she was a member of the G-Crew, a prominent and influential group, while appearing and speaking on behalf of Gel Sadra.

Relying on word-of-mouth and wooing opinion leaders is how an emotional atmosphere builds and grows. Tsubasa’s great-grandfather knows this all too well, and finally shares his thoughts on the matter with Tsubasa. Previously, the two were at-odds due to Tsubasa’s stubbornness – her great-grandfather didn’t open up to her, and she persistently plowed forward without thinking. Now he admits that, in spite of her oft-rash behavior, her rush to act on behalf of others is one of her more admirable qualities.

Their conversation delves again into prevailing scars on the Japanese psyche from World War II and prior, something that the first series touched upon a bit through Rui’s disgust at the traditional Japanese vertical society. Rather than focusing solely on the larger, murky picture, Gatchaman Crowds insight brings these thoughts to a deeply personal level as Tsubasa’s great-grandfather finally opens up about his younger brother and the war.

In the first episode of insight, Tsubasa is asked to explain the word “atmosphere” to Gel Sadra. She falters and uses general terms like “it’s fun when everyone comes together.” Her conversation with her great-grandfather bookends this nicely, with him explaining how a prevailing atmosphere can be so dangerous.

One of the more tragic figures in all of this is Gel Sadra. Gel knew nothing of Earth when he landed, and found himself just as swept up in the groupthink as Tsubasa. Together, the two influenced each other, creating a perfect storm that swept over the Japanese people. Finally challenged to think about what he wants, Gel simply replies that he wants to spend time with Tsubasa, releasing all of the thoughts and emotions of others that had been weighing him down for so long.

The Kuu aren’t Gel Sadra’s any more than the thought bubbles were, and quickly turn against him once the prevailing atmosphere changes. As Hajime so astutely pointed out in the series’ eighth episode, the nature of the Kuu implies that the general populace is inherently worried about what’s happening, and is trying to hide away from their own thoughts by simply going with the flow.

It’s this key difference – going along with what is happening as opposed to deliberately choosing it – that separates CROWDS from Kuu. The Kuu are dispatched quickly by the G-Crew, once they’re allowed to fight them, vanishing into puffs of cartoon-ish smoke. Born of the atmosphere itself, and reflections of said atmosphere, they’re not tied to any individual as the CROWDS were.

Trade offs occur frequently in everyday life – more often than not when money or resources are concerned. In a business sense, trading off usually weighs a more immediate solution against a long-term one, leaving the company or individual to calculated the benefits and risks involved before making a decision.

Regardless of the end result, trading off requires a choice. Something must be given, and with every decision something is lost.

All too often – especially if one is going with the flow – one might not realize just how much has been lost, or what one lost in the first place. As Sugune Tachibana, previously the most buttoned-up of the G-Crew members, said, sometimes the allure of the atmosphere is so strong, one welcomes it because it’s pleasant and easy. When swept up in the groupthink, one doesn’t forget the opportunity cost, but is often too lulled by the coziness of the prevailing atmosphere, conveniently forgetting the trade-off: they sacrifice their own personal thoughts and the process of thinking for one’s self.

Following Gel Sadra’s “death,” the reaction on GALAX is mixed. The most telling reaction is the last one shown – “Isn’t there something more funny on the news?” Until the G-Crew comes clean, their actions will be swept away in favor of another passing fad or atmospheric shift.

The G-Crew put on the performance of a lifetime in this episode, one that includes traditional sentai and superhero action, transitions over many different settings, involves every single gatchaman showcasing their individual abilities, and even ends with a staged cliché showdown of Tsubasa – previously Gel’s staunchest supporter – telling Sugune that enough is enough. It’s a scene more obvious than Maximus’ “Are you not entertained?” speech in Gladiator, and prods both insight‘s in-universe and outside audience. Is this what you wanted? Are you willing to deal with the consequences of trading away your own thoughts and placing the decision in the hands of someone else?

It’s telling that the Kuu, a product and symbol of the groupthink, vanish one by one as people watch Gel Sadra’s televised defeat. In pressing the button that voted to leave it up to the G-Crew, people presumed that they once again wouldn’t have to deal with the consequences of their actions. When Gel created that button, Gel attempted to take on all of Japan’s issues, leaving the public blissfully unaware of their own responsibility. Hajime Ichinose’s plan takes advantage of this as a teaching tool. Once people are directly faced with the real-life consequences of pressing that button and letting the G-Crew clean up after their own mess, they begin to realize their individual contributions towards the larger machinations of the atmosphere. The outcome isn’t nearly as entertaining as they had thought.

“I believe in all of you.”

-Rui Ninomiya, Gatchaman Crowds, Episode 9

In order to fully step back and take a look at the cycle – not break it, because this still requires a lot of time, effort, and individual participation – another step is required. Tsubasa Misudachi appears, alongside Rui Ninomiya and former Prime Minister Suguyama, and reveals the truth. Her apology mirrors a comparable admission of responsibility expressed by Rui in Gatchaman Crowds‘ first season, where Rui reveals the true nature of CROWDS and Berg Katze. There, Rui takes the blame for CROWDS and urges the public not to use them, apologizing for the CROWDS users that are comotose. Rui then expresses belief in humanity, that they will do the right thing.

“This is a chance. For all of us to know who we really are.”

-Hajime Ichinose, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 11

Tsubasa apologizes for deceiving the public, but not for the actions of the G-Crew or Hajime’s plan, which she subsequently explains. Hajime’s words in insight echo a similar sentiment to her reaction in Gatchaman Crowds when asked if the G-Crew could beat Berg Katze. In that moment, Hajime truthfully answers that she doesn’t know. Likewise, when explaining her plan to Tsubasa and company, Hajime admits that they might not be able to defeat the atmosphere completely, but that they can at least spread awareness. An entity like Berg Katze – who preys on our innermost fears – or something as nebulous as an atmosphere cannot be defeated by a superhero. That’s too easy of a solution, and only provides a false panacea, preventing people from weighing the cost of their own actions. The trade-off of Hajime’s plan is that it eschews an immediate way out for a more permanent and introspective solution, recognizing that it will fail if the public are not yet ready.

In the first season of Gatchaman Crowds, Hajime Ichinose had her collages.

Not only were they a cute hobby that tied Hajime to some influential Tachikawa locals, but they acted as a metaphor – albeit a heavy-handed one – for the way Hajime herself acts. Repeatedly in the first season, she would express how wonderful it was when everyone “came together,” combining their respective talents into something different, exciting, or meaningful, much like a collage. Hajime was always slow and dawdling, sometimes to a fault, but her personality also brought other large personalities together, creating something entirely new.

It’s only fitting that Gatchaman Crowds insight‘s finale allowed its new heroine, Tsubasa Misudachi, to show off her own creative talents in the form of a fireworks show. Fireworks are an easy shortcut to Tsubasa’s personality – emotionally-charged, quick to anger, and fiercely passionate – as she’s naturally intense but also acts before she thinks. Unlike a collage, fireworks immediately impress and often inspire an emotional response; however, they’re also fleeting. For Tsubasa, fireworks are also the tradition of her family that she carries with pride.

Yet, while the title of this first season’s finale was aptly-name “collage,” insight‘s finale was not “fireworks” but  “insight,” continuing the series’ tradition of using marketing terms and buzzwords to frame every episode.

From Gel Sadra’s first introduction on earth, her initial power of displaying others’ thoughts – even before the reveal that she can also mine them for information – could have been called “insight.”

In marketing terms, insight is a targeted statement that deeply affects the beliefs of one’s consumer base. The desired response is one of emotional resonance from the customer to the product or brand itself, followed by a change in behavior that fulfills a specific goal or marketing campaign of the brand. Gatchaman Crowds insight frequently uses the term “atmosphere” to describe the general prevailing attitude of the public. Over the course of the season, this attitude goes through several drastic changes, all leading up to the massive paradigm shift in the penultimate episode caused by the G-Crew’s public “execution” of Gel Sadra.

“That’s because our thoughts agreed with everyone else, so we felt safe.”

“Then how did we come to the realization now?”

“Because we’re alone. We were by ourselves, stopped, and took a moment to actually think.”

-a conversation between Tsubasa Misudachi and Gel Sadra, Gatchaman Crowds insight, Episode 12

There is no truer statement than the one quoted above by Tsubasa, and it’s this conversation that points to the fact that insight – in spite of its oft-ham-fisted delivery – is not a true indictment of those who go along with the atmosphere. The arrival and subsequent vanishing – but not total removal – of the Kuu, the highly contested vote on whether Gel Sadra should stay or go, and the immediate reaction to Hajime’s slumber all point to the fact that people will inevitably choose to go with the flow at times; that being part of a crowd and agreeing with others is alluring and addictive. Most notably, there are still Kuu milling around, presumably feeding off of the next rising collective viewpoint.

At the end of it all, there’s no definitive resolution, but a sense that the world has, in Rui Ninomiya’s words, “updated” ever-so-slightly. The final vote tally on the Gel Sadra issue is not an overwhelming landslide, and very few people call for the G-Crew to handle things, reflecting that these votes are likely cast with a bit more thought. Of course, there will always be those like Millio Toriyama, eager and trendy media moguls who want to capitalize on the current atmosphere before it shifts out of their reach.

Millio plays a major role throughout insight in dispensing information as quickly as possible with little to no thought of the consequences. Naturally, his series is the setting that the G-Crew choose to reveal their hand, along with later announcing the results of the vote.

Lastly, Hajime leaves the viewer with the unsettling suspicion that she personally wished to be punished somewhat for her lack of action. Going into the final battle, she reiterates that she is a person who took part in the atmosphere and therefore also culpable for what has occurred within the series’ time span. This is the most awkward and messy part of the series’ finale, but shows another facet of humanity: guilt.

In displaying her thought process throughout a very bloody battle, one gets the sense that she didn’t wholly sacrifice herself for “the greater good” but that her choice was also a natural end to the inner demons she has been fighting since the first episode of Gatchaman Crowds. It calls to mind a conversation Hajime had with Utsutsu in the first season, where Hajime follows Utsutsu’s own self-loathing to a natural conclusion that it would cause one to hurt others or themselves. Hajime wakes up in the waning moments of the finale, but there’s a bitter – arguably necessary – taste to her actions that hangs over the ending as a result.

“There are days when nothing goes right. There are days when you stumble and fall. There are days when you just want to cry. To cry a lot. To sleep a lot. Or even to eat a lot. It’s alright as long as you pick yourself up again. Until the day you no longer draw breath.”

-Gakkou Gurashi, Vol. 5, Ch. 28

Mild manga spoilers to follow.

A primary difference between the Gakkou Gurashi manga and the recently completed anime is pacing. That’s not to say that one is paced better than the other, but that they move at different paces based on their medium. While there are equally desperate times as in the animated series, the girls’ world in the manga doesn’t crash down upon them as catastrophically.

As previously mentioned, the anime uses a more traditional framing of the zombie apocalypse narrative, taken from films like Night of the Living Dead. Therefore, after holding out for almost the entirety of the series, everything breaks simultaneously – Taroumaru is bitten, Kurumi is bitten, the barrier collapses, the garden and power supply are destroyed in a fire, and Miki is trapped in the emergency shelter with no way out.

This all sets the stage for Yuki Takeya’s awakening.

“I’ve kept my eyes closed to the scary things all this time, and had the others take care of the hard stuff. I don’t think I can do that anymore, or I’ll lose everything that’s important to me. That scares me a lot more.”

-Yuki Takeya, Gakkou Gurashi, Episode 11

For most of the series, Yuki had been shielded from the full scope of the situation by her classmates and teacher Megumi “Megu-nee” Sakura. In exchange, even with her shattered state of mind, Yuki had kept her compatriots sane by living rather than merely surviving. When everything falls apart, they continue to protect Yuki by sheltering her, each taking on a part of the emotional burden. Unfortunately, the situation is too much for Miki Naoki and Yuuri Wakasa, as the former is trapped in the emergency shelter on a mission to save the ailing Kurumi while the latter is forced to contemplate killing her friend should she turn. They leave Yuki alone in the classroom, but that’s not enough for Yuki, who is now more aware of the cracks in their overall demeanor.

Stepping out from behind their protection is something that’s visibly difficult for Yuki, and speaks more to her love of her friends than anything else the series does with her character. Previously, she had recognized the long looks on the faces of her friends, but had gone about creating fun activities with the School Life Club to erase their tension and sadness. She can no longer do this when they’re pulled apart in different directions, inspiring a final push through her own mental blockade into reality. Yuki’s encounter with Taroumaru and her speech to the student body reiterates this.

“Not at all. If you bottle up your sadness too much, you forget what’s really important. So if something sad happens it’s okay to feel sad. You don’t always have to be ‘fine.'”

-Yuki Takeya to Miki Naoki, Gakkou Gurashi, Episode 12

Gakkou Gurashi the series rewards her courage by recognizing the varying students’ remaining memories and allowing Yuki’s voice to somehow reach them, or at the very least herd them away long enough to save her friends. Like stepping out from behind the curtain that had closed off her mind, or later acknowledging graduation, Yuki finally comes to realize that moving forward is necessary. The watershed of events in the series’ penultimate and final episodes facilitate Yuki’s triumph.

“I always end up letting everyone else do the hard work. It’s my turn this time, okay?”

-Yuki Takeya, Gakkou Gurashi Vol. 5, Ch. 28

Yuki reaches a similar conclusion in the Gakkou Gurashi manga when she and Yuuri are separated from Kurumi and Miki. With Yuuri breaking down in the moment and no one else to turn to, Yuki bravely steps up and tells Yuuri that she’ll handle the situation herself.

Rather than piling everything on at once, the manga slowly builds, with each character having their own respective moments of both weakness and strength. The events leading to the girls’ “graduation” and departure from the high school are not combined with Kurumi’s illness and vaccination. Dark, and tense moments are interspersed with  lighthearted scenes – Yuki hamming it up on the radio at their “cultural festival” – before immediately launching into the bitter defeat of perceived rescue gone wrong. When Yuki steps up, she does so before she herself commits to saving her friends, as her voice reaches Kurumi and Miki through the intercom system. Rather than relying on latent memories in the zombified students, Yuki’s voice in the manga inspires her closest friends.

The effect is that – with constant rising and falling action – everyone grapples with their inner demons at separate times, but cover for one another when necessary, including Yuki.

Gakkou Gurashi the series relies on a traditional narrative climax, where the manga slogs through the everyday. There are lesser emotional highs in the latter; however, it makes up for it with a far more nuanced approach to the individual characters themselves. There are key takeaways to be had from both stories and, one’s attachment to one form of Gakkou Gurashi over the other will likely depend on the type of narrative that said viewer, or reader, is inclined to favor.

“Beautiful. So beautiful, it just makes me swoon. The most beautiful part about it is that the answer is zero. That said, someone like me thinks that if the answer is going to be zero, there’s really no need to go out of your way to make the calculation.”

-Ougi Oshino to Koyomi Araragi, Owarimonogatari, Episode 1

A locked room mystery plays on the idea of the impossible. The crime scene is isolated with a set amount of variables: a vanished culprit, and information given to both the detective and the reader of that respective work. In a way, a locked room mystery is an equation or a formula. After a while, the reader learns what to expect and when, eagerly anticipating the detective’s incoming speech. This subgenre of detective fiction is responsible for some of the most famous, influential, and bestselling works of all mystery novels, most notably John Dickson Carr’s The Hollow Man and Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None.

The insatiable appetite humanity seems to have for these types of mysteries is intrinsically tied to human nature itself. When presented with a seemingly insolvable situation, we crave rationality and an explanation.

Ougi Oshino knows this, and plays on this idea in the first episode of Owarimonogatari, going as far as to begin the revelation of her deductive process with the trademark, “I’ve gathered you all here today.”

Only there is no all, there’s only one: Koyomi Araragi. And Araragi already knows the answer to this mystery. The question is then of why Ougi finds it important to investigate this particular piece of Araragi’s past.

Monogatari as a franchise follows a specific formula for the majority of its narrative arcs. An oddity appears around a beautiful girl close to Araragi in either physical proximity or emotional attachment. Araragi cannot resist his desire to help. A solution is reached, all-too-often thanks to Araragi’s interference.

This begins to change in Monogatari Second Season, where as early as Tsubasa Tiger, the afflicted party is the one who ultimately decides how the oddity is banished or how the problem is solved. At the end of Second Season, Nadeko Sengoku’s resolution is one that requires Araragi not to interfere, and his presence is further sidelined in Tsukimonogatari when Yotsugi Ononoki acts on her own in service of teaching him a valuable lesson. Throughout, these problems, questions, and answers have always been about the afflicted, but never Araragi himself. We are shown that he’s helpful and at times self-loathing or masochistic but these are on a very surface level, if they are developed at all. The formula never requires much characterization for Araragi, relying on him as a sounding board for the other parties in the series.

Throughout all of this, there’s not a lot of room for a standard detective fiction setup. In fact, one could make the argument that introducing one would be a terrible idea as oddities not only exist but are the narrative thrust of various Monogatari arcs. If the answer to “what” or “who” is always an oddity, the answer comes all too easily and the puzzle to be solved is then of the affected character themselves rather than their sequence of events.

Yet, in Owarimonogatari, the locked room setup works wonderfully well. The enigmatic Ougi Oshino presides over everything as Araragi takes his turn at the center of the emotional narrative. Even with this new setup, importance is placed not on the mystery itself but how its resoluation affected Araragi so deeply as a person. The oddity is of little to no significance because it only serves as a device to create a situation requiring Araragi to remember his own past. Since the answer cannot be written off by an oddity’s mere existence, and banishing said supernatural being necessitates solving the mystery of Araragi’s classmates, it cannot affect the outcome.

Most importantly is the fact that a bit more of Araragi’s true nature, or the building blocks towards his initial anti-social persona, are revealed. He’s lived a formulaic life for most of Monogatari, solving the mysteries of oddities, but it’s people who have left the deepest scar on his psyche. There’s initially no way out of a locked room murder, but the result must come about in a logical and thoughtful fashion in the continued, somewhat futile, effort to make sense of strange events or apply reason to something that initially appears unreasonable. Here, the viewer sees Araragi confronted with his own past and how he felt betrayed by not only his classmates but an authority figure. The sequence of events is presented in brutal fashion through Ougi’s pointed questions.

Ultimately, Nisio Isin, and the Monogatari franchise as a whole, is continually focused on discussing how one can come to embrace their own innermost fears or darkest desires. Araragi is now forced to step outside of his own comfortable formula and examine these things for himself, all with the trappings of one of the most tried and true formulas of detective fiction: the locked room mystery.