© 2024 Sai Naekawa/KADOKAWA/Project Watatabe

Hinako is sinking. While This Monster Wants to Eat Me frequently deploys drowning as a metaphor for her mental state, it feels most appropriate for her current depressive spiral. Flashbacks remind us that, however slowly and imperfectly, Shiori had been successful at pulling Hinako out of her funk. She led her into the sunlight while holding a parasol over her head, letting her warm up and dry off without the risk of getting burned. However, a strong wind blew that parasol away, and Hinako, engulfed in flames, rushed back into the icy yet familiar embrace of the ocean.

For Hinako, it’s a simple calculation. Self-hatred reduces all self-assessments down to a basic formula that ignores most external factors. She just doesn’t want to be alive anymore. She put up with the pain when she believed that it was her family’s wish, but now she knows that’s a lie. She stuck around for Miko’s sake, but now she knows that her friend will have at least one other yokai companion to keep her company. She believed Shiori would save her, but now she knows that she cannot trust a monster. Absent these already scarce complicating factors, what is left in Hinako’s mind to justify her continued existence?

I have never felt quite as low as Hinako has, and I have certainly never experienced an equivalent tragedy in my own life. Nevertheless, the anime succeeds at putting me in her headspace. It feels like a recapitulation of the first episode, with long wordless stretches and the focus on Hinako’s interiority, now that she has separated herself from Shiori. In fact, these techniques are more effective with the added context of Hinako’s full backstory, as well as the scope of her regression. She had been improving, and that contrast makes her current state more tragic and tangible. In totality, these developments are further evidence that both the story and its adaptation have steadily matured into a more sophisticated work.

Miko’s role here is also surprisingly complicated. She wisely decides to visit her friend on her own, without Shiori, and she attempts to inject some merriment with her usual hyperactive front. But whereas Shiori crushed Hinako with falsehoods, Miko is honest to a fault. She can’t lie and say she wasn’t happy when Hinako survived, and she can’t put on a strong face when Hinako sobs about her death wish. Miko comforts her, of course, but she can’t heal her. She can’t coddle her. She can’t keep constant watch over her for the rest of their lives. Miko, too, is hurting, and all she believes she can do is give Hinako space. She isn’t resigning, and if this were the real world, there would be other therapeutic options that a friend like Miko could help Hinako pursue. But within the scope of the narrative’s love triangle, Miko knows she has to put her trust in Shiori.

When Hinako decides to go to school, the anime takes us step by step through her morning routine. The camera lingers on her glassy eyes, blank expression, scar tissue, and rain-soaked commute. Well before she rushes into the sea, the audience has plenty of cues to realize where this scene is headed. The clips of Shiori, while a little overused, pull us into Hinako’s frantic headspace. Part of her understands where Shiori was coming from, and that part wants to give her a chance at reconciling things, but the cumulative weight of Hinako’s depression overwhelms her psychological balance. We know the hand sticking out of the ocean is just another yokai seeking to eat her, and deep down, Hinako knows this as well. She just doesn’t care anymore.

Naturally, that is Shiori’s cue to reappear with perfectly melodramatic timing, struggling against the tide and torrent to drag Hinako back ashore. I expected Shiori to intervene, but I didn’t expect that I’d be screaming at the screen for the final minute of the episode. For the full effect, we must contrast this toxic tableau against the warmth in the cold open. Our (perhaps) final glimpse of their first meeting shows a cheery little girl offering her prized collection of seashells to the towering monster. One shot emphasizes this size difference well, with Shiori hunching across the length of the frame while Hinako barely pokes out of the opposite corner. Still, there is a measured gentleness in Shiori’s actions, careful not to damage the scallop shell nor the equally fragile girl in front of her. When we jump back to the present, we come to realize that Shiori’s hairclip is fashioned out of that very shell. She’s been carrying a totem of Hinako’s affection this entire time, yet she contorted their current relationship into one where she could never tell her that. I can’t sugarcoat it: Shiori is an idiot.

Lest I sound too harsh, that idiocy turns this reunion into quite the spectacle. Shiori turns apoplectic at Hinako’s suicide attempt, but she stupidly frames it as possessiveness. Her eyes turn a monstrous gold, and she wraps her hand around Hinako’s neck, paradoxically staking her claim while threatening to throttle the life out of her. It’s a violent yet intimate gesture—toxic yuri at its finest. And this makes sense given Shiori’s background. Her fundamental disconnect with humanity makes it easy for her to regress to simplistic solutions rooted in brutality. If Hinako rushes towards a yokai, she pulls her away. If Hinako wants to die that badly, then perhaps Shiori should be the one to do it. Thankfully, though, Shiori catches a glimpse of Hinako’s tear-stricken face and stops herself, remembering Miko’s advice. They have to talk. Shiori mutters the phrase like a mantra, like the words are unfamiliar to her, because they are. But she has to leave her comfort zone and attempt an honest dialogue if anything is going to change.

Despite the slight relief of tension, this is still a cruel cliffhanger (with the cherry on top of Yui Ishikawa taking her turn to sing the ED). I like it! Everything is teed up for a heavy conversation next week, and given that there will be 13 episodes total this season, it’s possible that Shiori and Hinako may continue arguing into Christmas. I really hope this arc can stick the landing. I don’t need these girls to suddenly turn into normal girlfriends, but I want them to stop beating around the bush and dig into the raw meat of their fundamental connection. They are both scared, damaged outcasts who are uniquely capable of inflicting pain on each other, and that makes their capacity for mutual love and understanding all the greater.

**Rating: **

• This Monster Wants to Eat Me is currently streaming on Crunchyroll. *

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