In the end, Owen is probably right. After how many thousands of words over the last five or so episodes riding the tide of KimiKiss, from the highs and lows of both the show’s execution and of my own personal Yuumi fandom, I’ve finally beached out on this show.

I say tide for a reason. KimiKiss isn’t a rollercoaster, per se. It doesn’t always leave you hanging on the edge of your seat, threatening to buck you at every turn like most visual-novel type harem/romances go. Rather, it really does feel like a relaxing trip out to sea, a place disconnected from yet not totally out of touch with the real world, in that style in which KimiKiss lets every viewer live out their idea of the ideal high school romance.

Indeed, my thoughts regarding KimiKiss itself have fluctuated like that of a schoolboy first falling in love. At the beginning I was sure I was smitten with it, that it would be the greatest forever, and indeed, we spent many great times together. But as time moved on there was that little nagging doubt, that ‘is it me or is it you?’ feeling. I still liked it a lot but it didn’t seem like it could be The One. In the end, we had to separate and head our own separate ways, something that I still approach with a bit of sadness, which probably is a bit contrary to everything about the show I’ve said so far.

In the end I find myself regarding KimiKiss much like others have, a show that bends the box but doesn’t break it, and more of a entertaining watch than a truly didactic one. There’s a bit of me that wishes KimiKiss could be more, as it really could have, but I’m not sure how, or in what way, as as much as I try to put it down and say it wasn’t incredible, my gut feeling keeps saying it’s something more.

It’s a strange show. It’s ambitious, yet ordinary, complicated, yet simple, unpredictable, yet not.

The one thing that I think KimiKiss really excelled in, though, was being very interactive-friendly (for lack of a better word), encouraging viewers to get out there, pick a side, and get into the show, something that will instantly make anything – any show, any work of fiction, any event – more entertaining and more fulfilling.

This is the reason I liken to KimiKiss to politics, except fun.

(Obvious spoilers after the jump, etc etc.)

Both KimiKiss and politics – ideally, anyway – are emotionally charged debates about quite relevant issues. What I like about KimiKiss, and what I hope about politics as well, is that there isn’t really a right and a wrong, that both sides can take something away from the struggle.

One can argue on the side of Yuumi, as I have so many times, and one could argue for Mao. The same goes for Asuka and Eriko.

And, like politics, some of the battles resulted in the complete crushing of the competition, despite the loud arguments of the vocal opposition. While it’s not the steamroller-fest that most Key anime turn out to be, it was quite apparent early on that Eriko would have no challengers, and it was a uphill battle to fly the Yuumi flag.

But of course, that doesn’t mean that it was time to roll over and die (despite much of the cast’s attempt to, metaphorically). Miracles do happen, infinitely small chances are not equal to zero, and for quite a while one could try to argue in favor of an Asuka x Kazuki, or Yuumi x Kouichi ending, if not on a logistic basis than on a moral one.

And while the other side may walk away victorious, I think there is a lot of sense to be seen on both positions, in how all the characters are in a sense perfectly imperfect, characters that are realistic and realistically flawed. They all have their charm points and their weak points, from both a objective and subjective perspective. And this is where KimiKiss shines.

Yuumi is naturally the first character I’ll take on. Nearly as highly divisive as Mao herself, Yuumi is, depending on your perspective, either the idealized lover, or boring background scenery. Her quiet, shy demeanor, love of fiction, and slow growth in self-confidence endeared her to many people. And certainly her hooking up with Kouichi early on in the show, in a two-way relationship, earned many fans to her side instead of Mao’s.

But instead, Kouichi turned to the cool ‘older sister’ type character and us Yuumi fans are left stranded at the fountain, alone. Is it time to grab the pitchforks and torches?

Oddly, no. For all her external charm Yuumi is honestly one of those characters that it’s very tough to give the OK to in terms of a long-term, and real-life relationship. She and Kouichi are odd complements, or rather, mirror images of each other. Both are rather shy, rather passive, rather submissive people, a type that often attracts similar types to each other, but also a type that doesn’t work well together.

It’s quite simple to see that Yuumi and Kouichi would probably never, ever come within 10 yards of each other or have longer than a 10 second conversation without bursting into flames of blushing and apologizing, without Mao and the crew stepping in. The two of them seem to epitomize the ideal high school relationship, the slow courtship and innocent love that every first-time romantic dreams of.

But it’s this stereotype that Kouichi and Yuumi are stuck in. Love is not just sitting there and dying your face a nice shade of red over a ice cream sundae with two straws sticking out of it – as cute as that sounds – but also bringing out the best in each other, of building each other up and living not just for each other – as Kouichi and Yuumi are apt to do – but for yourself.

And it’s that point that sticks me. Yuumi definitely improved as a character over the course of the show. Her gradual buildup of self-confidence, capping with that tear-inducing farewell in the final episode, is something that many people could learn from. But what is this a result of? It’s not really Kouichi’s doing, but more of her friends in general, being around the stubborn yet persistant Kazuki, the straightforward Mao (and to an extent, Hiiragi), and the ambitious frog girls.

By the end of the show trying to force Kouichi and Yuumi together is a bit of a square-peg-round-hole situation, more of the two of them (and a lot of crazies like me) trying to force themselves into being who they think they want to be, rather than who they really are. The two of them are just so used to ‘being in love with each other’ that they don’t really want to break things off for the better, until, eventually, one, maybe both, of them get an epiphany in the last episode, and we end up with the situation we really expected all along, Kouichi x Mao and Yuumi off to the side.

It’s probably the more justifiable relationship, as despite drowning in the waters of Kouichi x Yuumi shipping Mao probably is the better fit for Kouichi. Her no-nonsense, direct-to-the-point attitude from the early segments of KimiKiss is admirable, and despite her getting into serious drama waters with her being torn between Kouichi and Kai (going through a process similar to Kouichi clinging on to Yuumi, and vice versa), she does manage to lift herself out of it quite well. Kouichi could definitely learn a bit from her, although what he has to teach Mao is a bit questionable in itself.

Kouichi and Mao were friends first, something that might have off-put a lot of viewers who truly expected Mao to stay a third party instead of jumping into the Kouichi fray. But this is more of the way that things should be approached; if there’s anything to be learned from Kouichi and Yuumi, it’s that consciously trying to approach a relationship from the get-go with the intents of romance is quite the awkward and difficult task.

I find it a better belief to let deeper things bloom from lighter intentions, to let the feeling of love be more of an epiphany than a consciously applied label, and that’s why I can in the end approve of Mao and Kouichi’s relationship. The two of them interacted great together, joking, laughing, and having fun together, without having to consider each other a significant other. Doing so in the end was just the next step, a climbing of the stairs compared to the wall-climbing Yuumi and Kouichi underwent.

But, considering this, why did Asuka, who took much the same approach as Mao, fail in winning the heart of Kazuki? Why did Eriko’s blunt, confusing, and often nonsensical actions succeed in the end?

Aside from the fact that Eriko was, at times (such as episode 20), utterly adorable at times, it seems like a part of KimiKiss’s ultimate attempt at conveying a sort of moral, to give both sides of the story.

Despite everything I have said and will try to say, you can’t take one moral, one ultimate truth, and apply it to everything (or, conversely, distill anything down to one truth), every time. While Kouichi’s story embraced the slow and steady buildup of a relationship, Kazuki’s encouraged taking the leap across a giant chasm. It encouraged smashing the square peg into the round hole with a hammer, encouraged falling down and getting up.

And why? Because love isn’t a one-size-fits-all answer. Nice guys don’t always finish last and they don’t always stand on top of the podium either. KimiKiss tries to get a bit of this across, in showing the triumph of Mao and the fall of Asuka.

But on another note, it’s also the often-mentioned theme of ‘emotional honesty’ that drives this disparate conclusion as well. Asuka lost out because of how she never really considered Kazuki ‘like that’ until too late. Eriko had to overcome her self-denial of her feelings. And Kazuki, the bumbling yet unflinching hero, never doubted what he felt for Eriko, one of his true strong points.

This honesty encourages reflection, something that both Yuumi and Asuka perhaps did not do enough of. Yuumi kept telling herself “I’m with Kouichi, and that’s all that matters.” Asuka held strong to her passion of soccer, not letting lesser things such as emotion get in her way.

Eriko and Mao fell to these flaws too. Eriko continued to believe her philosophy of “people are alone,” and Mao tried to kill her feelings for Kouichi as being ‘off-limits’. But it could be argued that these two saw the light a lot earlier. Eriko and Mao saw the flaws in their logic, felt the true feelings of their hearts. So did, in the end, Yuumi and Asuka, but perhaps too late.

Perhaps life is just unfair. Maybe Asuka deserved Kazuki after all. But this of course, is a reality in themself, in that they can’t all be winners, kids. The hardest part of love is not, contrary to belief, spending forever trying to work up the urge to ask people out, but rather, sweeping up the pieces at the end and moving on when hearts are broken (perhaps a fear that drives anxiety of the former).

And for doing this so admirably, perhaps Asuka and Yuumi are the winners of this story after all, for having the moral and emotional courage to face the music, to get up, wipe off their clothes, and walk off. Tragedies (or rather, morally bankrupt comedic boat-fests) are created when people do what they think is the right thing and never let go of their affection, which only heightens the trauma when, like all things, their string of false hope comes to an end.

It’s a suitable contrast to Mao and Eriko, who went through an equal amount of change, but just happened to get rewarded more for it by the standards of romance story.

What can be said as one of KimiKiss’s greatest strengths is how really all the characters are ‘good’ in a sense, how they learn, grow, and change. These four have already been stated in numerous ways, but even for the males and other characters as well.

Kai, the also-ran who really deserves more coverage than this, is quite possibly the most ideal and most perfect character in the show, being criminally forgiving and understanding in the end (and sporting a bunch of talents). Kazuki never really lost the light, being true to himself about Eriko, although he did have his eyes opened to common sense a bit by Asuka. Kouichi, so passive and weak the whole show, finally makes a stand for himself in the end, and earns a little credibility back.

Nana and Narumi may be forever known as Those Stupid Frog Girls, but their drive in their other passion – udon chefdom – is admirable in their burning resolve and unflinching desire. Hiiragi, comic relief the whole show, was breathtakingly straight to the point in asking Kuryuu to the bonfire dance, and Mitsuki, despite missing the development I was hoping for, was great in dispensing sound moral advice.

It’s a bit idealized and all, somewhat like my review of this show, but there’s something for everyone in KimiKiss, a belief, an ideal, a lesson, from every character.

KimiKiss may not have a earthshaking lesson like some shows, but it combines these strong underlying tones with a compelling story, one that is always moving, but never rushed and nearly never still. It’s realistic delivery and down-to-earth tone will heighten its impact among many viewers, and from a storyline standpoint there’s always a few suprises and cliffhangers to keep viewers coming back, if not only to wave the flag of their favorite couple, of which there are many.

Maybe it’s not a show that’s ‘memorable’. There’s no shock ending (or really, any shock event outside of Kuryuu suddenly reappearing and hooking up with Hiiragi), no deep storyline, no moment of intense emotion. What works both in favor and against KimiKiss is that it’s utterly ordinary. For some, it may simply bounce off. But for those who it is relevant (high school students, romantics, etc.), it should be a engaging and deeply personal show, that will encourage the kind of debate and legitimate discussion that very few romantic rivalries can match (’Kyou is hot’ is not an argument, although it is nice eye candy).

I don’t think it ranks with the greats, the truly definitive works of its time. KimiKiss is rather more of a show that will soothe instead of storm, that will stir your soul a bit without breaking it, that gives off a warm, endearing feeling. It’s not a genre-breaker but rather a pinnacle of high school romance as it should be done. It doesn’t try to be anything else, because if it did, a lot of this show wouldn’t have the same effect and appeal as it does now.

KimiKiss won’t eat away at your conscience or cause you to have a major life epiphany, but it will cause you to think twice – at least briefly – about love, and it will give you a rewarding, feel-good story as well. And in the end,what’s wrong with that?

-CCY

(In the end, I didn’t talk a lot about what happened itself. I will leave it to the rewatch to see if any moments really stick out instead of just the overlying concept of the show and its characters. It’s almost strange to me, that the concept of the big picture lasts more than all the little pixels – story elements, plot points, etc. – making it up.)

(Well, Yuumi fought-o, and she lost. In the end, an expected outcome, but does the underdog in politics ever stop fighting even if they’re on the losing side? No, because they fight for what they believe in, not because they fight for what’s popular. Maybe I’m not as devoted a Yuumi fan as I first sounded, but I had every bit of enjoyment in taking the show with a clear goal in mind, paddling the boat instead of driving the waves.)

(I still need to watch 5 cm Per Second and Honey & Clover. Really badly now, to see what apparently are the true genre-defining romance shows.)