#umireread

I’m so excited for this chapter, you have no idea.

Extremely funny mental image of Yasu going to Natsuhi’s room, seeing the charm, then deciding “well if she’s off the table then I’m killing that asshole who gave me night duty while he did his crossword”. Of course, she probably had to kill Gohda to help avoid any incriminating testimony from her changing her assigned position last night, but it’s still funny to think about.

Since the rest are the adults, it’s easy to think about Gohda being an odd one out and the obvious replacement for Natsuhi, but given the above I wonder who the unfortunate backup was. Maybe Rosa? Or potentially one of either Rudolf or Kyrie, originally intending to only kill one of the adults per pair?

I love how Genji goes “Sorry. The Telephones are down” then “By the way Gohda is missing”, and completely neglects to mention that Natsuhi’s door is coated in bloodstains. Just leave the most obvious detail as something for her to find out for herself, you know.

“Natsuhi had a pretty good idea” is SUCH a funny line. Not even concerned by the horror movie trope, she already suspects which family member did it. I wonder who her mind immediately jumps to - although let’s be real, it’s probably Eva.

Eva tries to check on Kinzo and Natsuhi immediately shoots her down. It’s really funny how blatant the cover up is. Like, you’re unlikely to question it, since we keep getting fantasy scenes of Kinzo in his study, but it sure is there if you go looking for it.

Speaking of - the moment we see Kinzo in the office here, we’ve accounted for 17 of our 18 (with 5 known missing). Good game Shannon, we have our six chosen by the key.

Natsuhi, alone in the study, worries about how much Eva is going to tear into her, and then immediately makes up a pep talk to make herself feel good. I’m telling you, these study scenes are a goldmine.

Yeah, Eva absolutely would have been the one to leave bloody scratch marks all over Natsuhi’s door.

Here we go

HERE WE GO

…Okay, you can have that one. Saying it’s a sigh of relief right as they uncover the bodies is very cheeky, but the irony balances out how tense the scene is. It’s a breather for the reader as well.

We actually get a breather with the kids as well. Final moments of innocent Battler caught on tape.

Chills. Full chills.

And here it is. 

Allow me to indulge for a moment.

When I was a kid, my first anime was The Haruhi of Melancholy Suzumiya. I watched it through low-resolution fansubs that had been posted on a YouTube that was still in its youth, with each episode awkwardly split into three parts since you couldn’t upload videos longer than ten minutes. I probably watched that at an age that was slightly too young for it, but as a kid who only knew the world of animation through the veneer of kids cartoons and Matt Groening shows (except maybe that one time I watched Spirited Away when I was 5 - which also left a stark impression on me), it really opened my eyes to a world of new media that I hadn’t even conceived of before. I really wanted to see what else there was.

Anyway, my second anime was Higurashi no naku koro ni.

If I was slightly too young for Haruhi, I was definitely too young for Higurashi. But that was part of the appeal, I suppose - the prepubescent desire to cast away the shackles of childhood and prove your maturity. That you’ve grown up. I legitimately remember 10 or 11 year old me showing a friend the scene of Rika stabbing herself in the head while going “look at what I’m watching now! Look how mature I am!” - admittedly, this was to a friend who had allegedly already seen all manner of films rated 15 or 18, so it arguably would have been relatively tame to them, and boasting about your maturity is undoubtedly the most immature thing a person can do.

While the initial appeal there was that Higurashi was “mature”, it was still really interesting. There was good intrigue there, the plot had me hooked, and from start to finish it was a really good piece of media. I’m pretty sure my younger self saw the scene where the sound of gunshots are covered up by fireworks at the local festival and thought it was the smartest plot point in any piece of media ever. Anyway, a short while later, I heard that there was going to be a sequel anime to Higurashi - a new show, called Umineko.

Now, I had a fine time with the Umineko anime. I would have been 12-13 as it was airing - still eager to consume media I was too young for - and, with no bar for quality, I enjoyed it. There was cool gore! The mystery was exciting! The red truth was such a neat concept and the witch fights were badass! Sure, it may not have had as much of a lasting impact on me as Higurashi, but it was still good, right?

Well, it wasn’t good. In fact, pretty much all the anime reviews I saw for it were negative. There were still a few fools like myself who had enjoyed it, but there was one thing I kept seeing - a sentiment that was effectively universal. A simple statement.

“The Visual Novel is so much better.”

I held onto those words for a few years.

I don’t know what the instigator for it was, but somewhere down the line, I decided to act on it. I bought the original japanese version of Episodes 1-4 and 5-8 through what I believe was the old Witch Hunt site - quite possibly one of the dodgiest deals I’ve ever made, as anyone who procured Umineko back in the old days can attest to - and applied the fanmade english patch. The PS3 sprite mod looked so much better than the original sprites, so I installed that as well. And, 10 years ago, I started playing.

It was… fine. I wasn’t a huge fan of how the text covered the whole screen, rather than appearing in text boxes, like it did in the other VNs I’d played. I say that as if I’d actually played any VN other than Katawa Shoujo at that time. But, I remembered liking Umineko, so I pressed on. I pressed on through the boring introductions, through the boring discussions of the inheritance, waiting to get to the cool parts where Beatrice showed up and the magic fights started happening.

But then, we got to this scene.

There I was, sitting with my laptop on holiday, with my cheap earphones plugged in, as the cousins approached the gardening shed. As the adults told them not to get any closer. As they did so anyway.

What followed is some of the most unrelentingly raw reactions to a visceral scene like this that I’d ever seen in any piece of media, ever. This wasn’t the dulled impact that the anime had hit me with - this was a full, unfiltered, uncensored dive into the immutable affliction of being human. They’ve got no faces - you could feel Battler’s unmitigated despair oozing from it all. These weren’t just characters reacting to a scene in a book. This was something more.

This was the moment that I fell in love with Umineko.

Perhaps I gave too much background to that statement - perhaps I’ve fallen afoot of the same criticisms I levied against the earlier parts of the tale for not getting to the point quicker. But that is the play-by-play of how, 10 years ago, this scene went straight for the jugular and bled me dry. This is where I knew I wasn’t just reading another version of that anime I’d seen the years prior, I was reading something special.

I would be remiss to say this is entirely down to the writing - a lot of this is also heavily driven by the blaring tones of goldenslaughterer. If Umineko was simply a series of 8 books, it wouldn’t have had the same effect on me as it has done for the past decade. If this scene wasn’t equipped with one of the most perfect aural accompaniments imaginable, I don’t think it would have stuck with me as much as it did. But the palpable emotion dripping from each word - the killer performances from each of the VAs (Jessica’s screams are INCREDIBLE) - and the musical storytelling doing just as much heavy lifting as the writing is… it’s an inimitable experience. This is what everyone was telling me that I was missing out on back in the halcyon days of 2009. They were right.

Perhaps it was for the best that I did give it those few extra years, so that I could truly appreciate the masterwork being crafted before me. I can’t imagine even beginning to comprehend the themes or the mystery of this tale at age 13, when I scarcely did so at 17. But regardless of the what ifs, this is the path that led me to what I consider, with no exaggeration, a pivotal moment in my life. It’s hard to describe the emotions that were stirred as I approached this scene for the reread - if I had to approximate it, then it would be unbound excitement mixed with trepidation, a great interest in re-experiencing such an important scene tempered by a fear that it may not have been as good as I remembered.

Of course, it wasn’t going to hit me in the exact same way that it did the first time round - you cannot recreate the sensation of a sucker punch when you know that it’s coming. But I can say, with certainty, that this scene was just as good as I remembered. That it still hit all the points that made me fall in love with the story originally.

I cannot wait to keep reading the rest.

Honestly, after what I’ve just said (and my feelings at large), it feels sacreligious to stop and dissect this scene. It’s something you want to just let play out, to absorb the experience - part of me wants to just skip straight to the end.

But still, I’d feel remiss not to mention Nanjo’s acting here - he goes into doctor mode and then realises “wait, I need to be more emotional” before dropping it immediately. One of those moments that doesn’t arouse suspicion on a first read but feels super blatant afterwards.

In for a penny, in for a pound. Hideyoshi looks and sounds so pained having to perpetuate the crucial lie over here. You can really feel the thoughts running through his head of “do I expose it? Is it worth it?”

AND THEN WE GET HIT WITH WORLD END. I cannot stress how much music matters to me and accentuates the experience; a sound novel utilised to the full extent of the medium can truly produce a story that no traditional paper novel ever can.

Phenomenal work from the VA here - they clearly got the memo that this is a panicked “no” of not wanting the lie to be unveiled, rather than one of sincere desire to protect George. Again, you can still interpret it as the latter, so you’re unlikely to pick it up on a first read, but absolutely there on the reread.

There’s an incredible parallel made here of George holding onto Shannon’s smile, while Battler is doomed to remember the gored faces of his parents. Not only is this great by itself, it’s yet another example of fantasy versus reality, with George being able to hold onto happy memories by being ignorant to the truth (even if that truth isn’t a real truth in this case).

“Proved beyond doubt”, the narrative says, about the one body that we should doubt.

No commentary - this is just a great line and I wanted to highlight it.

And so all the associates chime in to cover it up.

I feel like it’s fairly easy to miss how well Eva is taking the whole thing in this scene. Everyone else is traumatised, and she’s holding up remarkably well.

Interesting how it’s the associates setting up the howdunnit as well! I suppose Yasu wants to make sure that element isn’t missed by the would-be detectives.

And so Umineko tells you to your face that this is the story about a serial killer who wants to be discovered. I suppose there’s already elements of that in the letter to solve the Epitaph, but it’s really made explicit here.

I’m still riding the high of the first twilight. I’m not sure if there’s any other scene in Umineko that I’ll gush about to that extent, but I know there’s plenty of moments yet to come that won’t fail to blow me away.

It’s certainly bold of Umineko to go from “standard” difficulty in Episode 1 to “expert” in Episode 2. I’m not sure exactly what warrants such a dramatic change? If we’ve “solved” Episode 1, then we should be able to readily bat away the fantasy scenes it introduces away from Battler’s perspective. I suppose the culprit committing suicide before the end and the rule of Battler’s perspective being untrustworthy 30 minutes before his demise could be quick tricky to theorise around, but I’m not sure if they’re “expert” by themselves. I guess we’ll wait and see.

Both of these outfits are great, I kind of wish we got to see more alternative clothes for the cast. Shannon’s comparison is funny, since this probably would be the first time she’d seen an aquarium.

Oh we’re in George POV here… That’s interesting. I’m not entirely certain why this is the case? My initial thought was that omniscient narration might have been saved for only contents on the message bottles/forgeries, to represent the author, and that this was forced by us not being allowed to see Shannon’s POV as per Knox’s first, but I don’t think that’s the case on either fronts - I believe the Episode 1 Prologue was omniscient despite being outside the realm of forgeries, and we do get Shannon’s POV slightly later, so I’m actually not sure what the meaning is here. 

Given how much we’ve already delved into the themes of fantasy and reality, I’m surprised how long it’s taken us to find a comparison to Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. I suppose that one is a bit too obvious of a comparison to make, so I don’t mind it being absent thus far in favour of more original thoughts.

Hooting and hollering. Applause all round.

At this stage I’m still concerned about reading too much into it, but I can’t help but wonder if this line is a slight nod to Yasu’s gender dysphoria. As in, despite identifying as female, part of her is doubting that she has a “real” female body and is getting caught up over it.

As we saw in Episode 1, magic is when other people can engage in fantasy with you; where your mutual fabrication can shut out the truth. With a loved one, the prying eyes of others do not matter; your shared fantasy shuts them out. Love is magic.

I know George does have his fair share of fans and defenders, but it’s the stuff like this which really puts me off him. Even if it’s behind a layer of jest, his controlling tendencies are just way too uncomfortable for me. It’s like there’s a part of him which is indulging in the “master and servant” angle between him and Shannon, which is skeevy by itself, but thoroughly tainted once you consider Yasu’s insecurities and feelings about being seen as furniture. Would she be happy with George? …Maybe? But would she be able to heal? I don’t believe so.

Life can be beautiful when you reject the grey sea of reality and immerse yourself in the deep blue of fantasy.

I think it’s interesting to look at this and consider the implications of the relationship being a case of Yasu having immersed herself in a fantasy and then opting to bring it about to reality. Can reality hope to match the bliss found in fantasy? Can it only do so through magic? Does realising her daydream here inspire her to realise her thoughts regarding Battler and Beatrice?

George once again being a bit too weird for my liking. I wasn’t content to let Battler retreat behind the justification he had for fondling his relatives in Episode 1, I’m not content to let George retreat behind the facade of japery here. No matter how you spin it, an element of the true self always resides in the false self.

Yasu takes great effort to not let George feel her fake chest pressed against him, awkwardly diving in a way to give him her head and naught else. Fortunately our gentleman isn’t going to proceed to do a Battler and expose the whole situation.

I’ve said it before, but my main interpretation of the George and Shannon pairing isn’t that Yasu truly loves George, but that she likes the fantasy of the “ideal” relationship that heteronormativity has painted for her. It’s moments like this which make me feel more steadfast in that interpretation - if Yasu was truly happy to be with George, why would she not risk the truth to be revealed? Why was she happy to let Battler uncover her secret in Episode 1, but not the man she is on a date with here? I read that as the voice in the back of her head saying that she’s not really happy with this pairing. She’s just deluding herself into it. Once again, fantasy and reality are in opposition with one another.

Fantastic writing here where both Shannon and George agree that the sea is deep blue, only for the third party narration to call the sea grey. Hammers the point in perfectly, is honestly a little dry humour-esque, and overall further contributes to the broader concepts of fiction writing being able to strip away the meaningful emotions and complexities of the humans it claims to describe. Episode 2 is starting strong.

So yeah, we’ve seamlessly transitioned from George’s POV to Shannon’s. I suppose we need to revisit the earlier reference about how this should technically be a direct violation of Knox’s 1st, since we shouldn’t be able to follow the thoughts of the “culprit”. Of course, there’s a few catches here, any of which could be valid - we are pre-mystery, so Knox is not yet in effect; Shannon is not the culprit at this point, or we are specifically separating Yasu from Shannon for this purpose. I’m leaning towards it being the case of Knox’s 1st only being active during the mystery segments, since the main point of the rule is to stop the author from tricking the reader by giving a fake internal monologue. I mean, I suppose that is what’s happening here, but we’ve flipped our own chessboard 360 degrees so it’s best to acknowledge that it happened and just press on.

So there’s two things I’m taking away from the scene - first of all, the use of a mirror is an apt symbolic choice for dealing with Yasu’s self hatred. Is she able to accept herself? Can she be happy with the person she is now? The answer is no - she shatters the mirror, she shatters the reflection, she shatters the visage of the person she sees herself as at that moment. But, alongside this, I believe this moment is meant to be the moment that the explosives are tested. The point of no return - where Yasu is serenaded by the sweet song of vengeance, where the final step before confirming that the massacre can be arranged is completed, that the bombs that ensure her victory are still in working order. This was her last chance to back out from what must be done. But of course, it must be done.

Very complex thoughts here. The physical limitations placed upon her body are what render her as furniture; a being incapable of love. In a sense, being furniture is not to suffer, because a table does not yearn for the earthly pleasures it cannot possess; it knows its place. To suffer is human; but Yasu is to suffer grievously, as furniture attempting to become human. She dehumanises herself for what she lacks; but this very act of self hatred elevates her from furniture. By accepting this suffering, she necessarily becomes human. This is a concept that Umineko has a lot to say about, and I’m looking forward to digging into some of the future confrontational scenes between Yasu and Beatrice.

Yeah, I’m fully interpreting this as being the moment that the explosives are tested on the shrine. The thunder is the deafening cacophony of munitions ringing out.

We finally have our first real entry to the Tips menu in the form of the Epitaph, but it’s just a copy of what it says without any further notes. Going forward I’ll just comment if something is added that I think merits inspection, other than starting each post with “no new tips this time” or “there’s something new but there’s nothing to say about it”.

I mean, I have to make the joke about Maria being the one writing the Tips, right? We get the Epitaph in our “book” and then she pulls it out of hers. Anyway Maria writes all the tips 100% canon confirmed

Battler says he’s hungry and Yasu immediately goes into “I would do anything in the world for you” mode.

Umineko is just full of microcosms of itself, isn’t it? This whole scene of the kids discussing the Epitaph is just one giant metaphor to the narrative structure of the mystery as a whole. The Epitaph tells you about a sweetfish-filled river, so you take it as the truth. You try to figure out where it is, but it’s fruitless, because it doesn’t exist. The same applies to all the testimonies and text that dances around the red truths later - if you take it at face value, you’ll find yourself in a dead end. It’s only when you take a step back and realise what the words actually mean that you arrive at your actual truth.

Absolutely WILD take. You’d really think Maria would be big into the fantasy motifs associated with castles. That being said, this probably does track - Maria has probably been on days out to actual castles and, as a kid, found them relatively mundane and boring. Under the lens of reality, theme parks are indeed the more whimsical of the two, and probably easier for her to lose herself in fantasy-wise.

Hitting the nail on the head there by focusing on the Kanji of the Epitaph being important, eh?

Yeah this was just me at every family meeting when I was her age.

Battler cutting the Gordian Knot here. This is a really interesting line, honestly - it’s a sense of pragmatic bluntness that I don’t recall us getting a lot of later (although that might just be my memory), but moreover, it shows a sense of gunning for answers without caring for the why. It’s definitely a far cry from Erika levels of depravity, but it’s neat to know how much he grows as a person as this story goes on.

I do wonder what Yasu’s thoughts are regarding this discussion. I know she’s rooting for Battler - or anyone, really - to solve the Epitaph, but I’d loved to have seen a beat-by-beat reaction of her internal thoughts to everything going on here.

Maria talks about wanting to believe in Beato and Yasu chimes in immediately. Feed that imagination and you can use her to your advantage later.

Good to know that we’re establishing the servants being willing to lie in service of fantasy this early on.

Battler goes “woah, that’s scary” and then Yasu immediately retreats and goes “nooo it’s not that scary please like me”.

I’m imagining a conversation where Maria asks Rosa for a book for her birthday, a happy Rosa asks her which one she would like, and then Maria goes “The Lemegeton :)”

I dunno man, I used to cast fire strike on scorpions at the Al Kharid mine to train my magic and they didn’t put up much resistance.

I’m imagining an alternate universe where the Rokkenjima Massacre never happens and Maria grows up as one of those girls obsessed with Star Signs and Crystals.

“Even I don’t think of myself as the sort of loser who’d laugh at something like that”. Oh Ryukishi is coming for the throat of anyone who makes fun of other peoples’ interests. I think this is quite a neat comment to drop - like, internally, part of me wants to say that he’s painting with too broad a stroke here, but at the same time I don’t think he’s wrong at all? Like, using the above example of people obsessed with astrological signs, it’s pretty common to see others poking fun at them because obviously it’s not real. But is that a valid reason to disparage them? Aren’t we all retreating into our own personal fantasies of reality, especially when it comes to more existential topics? Umineko, at its core, really is a story of compassion for your fellow man. I think this is quite a direct point for the story to make, but it’s a well warranted one.

Yasu, once again, is writing Battler as the ultimate gentleman dreamboat who would be her perfect partner.

This scene is quite interesting in that it gives you a good insight into the philosophy of the trio here - Battler, results focused, is initially disappointed that the roses will be battered by the storm. Jessica chimes in, saying that they were lucky to have lived and left an impression on them, and George echoes this by saying that the finite nature of their existence is what truly allows you to admire them in their bloom - with Battler coming around to their way of thinking afterwards. I like seeing Battler being so open minded, but I also like thinking of this as a reflection of all of their thoughts about life in general.

Oh that’s a scathing comment from Jessica. Literally one scene ago we had a callout directed towards people for looking down on what brings others joy, and now we have Jessica calling Maria’s obsession “pointless”. That has to be an intentional criticism of her character.

Mother of the year incoming.

The themes of fantasy and reality rise once again. Of course, the rose is gone - presumably it was pruned by Yasu to get Maria into this situation - but none of what the cousins or Rosa is saying here actually helps Maria. You can’t help her with the truth, you can only upset her. So do you force the truth down her throat? Do you make her even more upset, so you can feel vindicated that you’re right? Or do you approach her in a way that might actually calm her down? To be fair, I’m not entirely sure what the right approach would even be in this scenario - I’d presume the best bet is to weave some fantastical tale that the rose ran away somewhere, or that it wasn’t wilting and was actually getting ready to hide before the typhoon hit, so it’s actually safe and sound under the dirt. But anyway, I certainly know what the wrong approach is in this case!

Yasu writes the Ushiromiyas as completely rotten, who cannot be changed and aren’t worth saving. “But Battler, my hero? He’s different. He’s the good one.”

Once again, Umineko is such a good dive into the human condition. I’m almost certain that Rosa and Maria are based on a real case he saw during his time as a social worker. Rosa is a terrible mother, but you can see why she’s ended up like this. Not just because she’s issuing the same treatment Kinzo gave to her generationally, but because she’s a single mother who is not able to cope with Maria’s additional needs and struggles by herself. Her actions aren’t excused - and they certainly aren’t excusable - but you clearly understand why Rosa is like this. I’m so grateful whenever a piece of media is able to navigate a difficult topic like this with an understanding of the humanity behind both parties without just taking the easy route and vilifying one of them.

Wow, George is so great with kids! Anyway, let’s defend the mother who is beating her daughter.

It’s actually really messed up that both George and Jessica are so defensive of Rosa’s actions here. The generational trauma is real - they’ve both absolutely received similar treatment growing up and have become numb to it.

Yeah? You think what Maria wants the most right now is to be left alone? Bet you feel real good about yourselves letting that 9 year old get a beating, huh?

Through the lens of Yasu’s writing, I can’t help but see this as a venting moment - a reflection of the times that she was hurting, that she wanted someone to reach out to her, but it was too proper for them to do so and so a blind eye was turned against her. After all, it’s the Ushiromiya family, their entire tattered history is full of them simply ignoring their problems and waiting for them to go away. No doubt Yasu was frothing at the bit at the prospect of them trying to “wait for the problem to go away” while standing on top of several tons of military grade explosives.

It’s worth mentioning that I’m writing these notes as I go, because occasionally I’ll make a comment and then be pleasantly surprised by seeing a point I make be immediately reinforced by the narrative. Case in point, we have some discussion from Battler about how messed up it is for George and Jessica to act as they do in this scene.

Honestly, I want to revisit a suggestion I made earlier about Maria implanting herself onto the rose - if we read this scene with that assumption, this all hits so, so much harder. The wilted rose, the odd one out, has disappeared - and no-one seems to care. And here we have Rosa basically confirming that’s a one-to-one reflection of Maria’s school life; a wilted rose that people tolerate at best, want to see gone at worst, and the odd one out without any friends regardless. It’s just sad all round.

Also, Fortitude is the perfect pick for this scene - such a great track. Flawlessly captures the emotions at play here.

And we find ourselves in a Kinzo scene to send us out. With no witnesses in the study, this is the fantasy of an empty room. The sound of rain against the window with no-one there to care. A study draped in isolation and silence, all alone. It is left to the reader to decide what is lonelier - this vista of emptiness, or the abused child in the rose garden.

And so Episode 2 starts… With a flashback inside of a flashback! Umineko is my favourite slice of life story.

That’s a very loaded statement when the broader implications are considered. On the one hand, there’s the gender identity angle, with Yasu considering herself a normal girl (to which we say, hell yeah), but it’s also batting away the notion of furniture which we know to be abnormal (in the sense of being non-human). Either way, considering what she’s been through, Yasu being able to view herself as “normal”, even if it has to be through the lens of Shannon, is pretty heartwarming.

Oh, and sure enough, the notions of furniture are mentioned 5 seconds later. I’m always relatively pleased when a line of thinking I have is immediately reinforced by the plot once I continue.

So there was a pretty rapid succession of thoughts here - the immediate reaction was “here we go, Yasu’s at it again”, but then I took into account that this isn’t necessarily in the realm of the message bottle, so this could just be a scene that was entirely reality. But then I realised that we’re in Shannon’s POV, so yeah this is entirely Yasu exacerbating Natsuhi’s pain once again.

So far we’re getting a healthy amount of suggestion that, romantically, George was just “there”; that Shannon’s feelings for him didn’t particularly develop due to his character, but rather for just being an eligible option in the right place at the right time (similar to how Jessica saw Kanon).

Do they, though? My mind wanders to the many tales of how fake sommeliers can convince wine tasters of unusual methods of appreciating the wine; how people just assume a several hundred dollar bottle of wine must taste nicer than a cheaper vintage, when the difference could be entirely miniscule. Your perception is muddied by what you inherently believe must be the truth. It seems like an odd thing to focus in on - a rich family having expensive tastes - but when Umineko is so concerned about reevaluating your axioms, questioning why you believe the things you do, this does feel like another microcosm of the plot.

Meanwhile, Krauss joins in with Eva to bully Natsuhi regarding her headaches. An indication that the Ushiromiya blood is closer with each other than the borrowed wombs they parlay with? Or another case of Yasu inflicting as much misery onto Natsuhi via the narrative as possible?

“Pretty sure” is a funny phrase to use here - it’s meaningless at a glance, but once again, it’s hammering through the themes of glossing over reality with a layer of fantasy. Did he? Who knows. But we can believe he did to improve our view of him, can we not?

As someone who doesn’t remember the intricacies here particularly well, does JESSICA implant the ideas of romance into Shannon? That’s VERY interesting if so.

I suspect a good majority of early Episode 2 is going to be Ryukishi intentionally wounding anyone who is here for a re-read. The Furniture connotations hit hard.

And so the true villain of Umineko shows itself! Heteronormativity!

I’m using that term a little loosely - in truth, I should really be using the broader sense of “societal expectations”, since that’s the crux of what’s going on here. Shannon mentioned being a “normal” girl, but what does that mean, exactly? What is “normal”? Generally, a concept decided by the wider views of the society that surrounds us, rather than something derived from within. However, heteronormativity is a huge factor in the dangers of social expectations that Umineko highlights, as the expectation for people to enter a monogamous (straight) relationship, rampant in your teen years, can greatly shape and warp how you grow as a person.

You may think I’m talking from my own experiences there. You’d be right. You may be inclined to believe that heteronormativity greatly warped my sense of self, growing up as an asexual teenager who (at the time) thought they were strictly a cisgender male. You would also be right - I won’t be getting specifically into the personal issues I faced because of this, but you’ll definitely see a hard bias against the concept on my end (which, fortunately, Umineko also ensures to chastise).

This was a lot of words to say that “Jessica growing up believing she had to be a girly girl who likes boys warped her as a person and was the first domino in this ensuing tragedy”.

“If George were to appear at a time like that, she’d have no chance of keeping her cool.”

Anyway, here’s George.

Did they, eh? The start of Episode 2 is fairly ambiguous when it comes to the place in the timeline, so it’s interesting getting details that can help pin it down. I’m hesitant to say that this is fabricated - there’s no way Eva would go along with a fake Kinzo appearance, so surely we’re at least 2 years back?

After mentioning generational trauma and the cyclical nature of abuse in the Episode 1 Wake, it definitely stands out more whenever the mentions of abuse crop up. Thanks Kinzo.

And here we are - THE moment that the feelings take root.

One thing which I think is important to address before we progress is the nature of Shannon’s feelings - I, personally, don’t like the Shannon-George dynamic, and a big part of it is this sense that she’s only pursuing him because she wants a “normal” romance in her life, and that the walking definition of milquetoast finds himself as the most eligible option in her position. She doesn’t love George, she loves the idea of George - and of course, that can develop over time, but that’s a questionable foundation.

But here’s the thing - does that matter?

There’s an excellent video from Philosophy Tube centred around Brexit (of all things), which raises a great point about people voting when they have been misled or deceived - while they have made an “incorrect” judgement based on what they knew, does that necessarily mean that vote is invalid? Are those feelings invalid?

In my personal opinion, yes - I’d say so. But as with most philosophical questions, a personal answer is not a true answer; my thoughts are not reflective of a greater truth of the universe. You can argue that, if someone is fed lies, and they make a vote based on those lies, then that vote is still perfectly legitimate. I might not agree with you, but the argument is there to be made.

I bring this up because it’s reflective of Shannon’s situation - because I think her feelings for George developed in the “wrong” way, I’m not supportive of the relationship. But does that matter? Shannon still has those feelings, regardless of how they developed. My preconceived notions cannot override that. As before, going forward, I’m likely to be critical of George and Shannon - but my distaste does not override their legitimacy. Anyway, moving forward.

Very funny to see the narrative also writing George off as “average”.

I think it’s worth mentioning heteronormativity again here in terms of George being influenced by it. Again, the choice word is “unfortunately” - completely telling of the expectations that George has thrust upon himself. He, too, is weighed down by society demanding that he enters a normal relationship; and that’s before any of the Ushiromiya expectations factor into it.

Highlighting the use of “Irresponsibly” here.

Honestly, this scene is actually kind of phenomenal on a reread - fueled by society at large, Jessica’s desire for romance causes her to ship George and Shannon together - pushing them close even when they may not have been otherwise - which in turn causes her to spiral and doom her away from Kanon. I am a sucker for tragedy and we are delivering right now.

And here we juxtapose societal expectations with familial. Not only is George expected to marry and start a family, he’s expected to enter a political arrangement, with him being used as a vessel for the Ushiromiya that cares not for the human behind his position. The former expectations twist and warp the human; the latter ignores it entirely. Which is worse?

Eva’s discussion about how she grew to love Hideyoshi rather than marrying because of it is an interesting parallel to the discussion we’ve just had regarding Shannon falling for George for just being there. It might just be my interpretation of it, but it feels like Umineko wants to paint that Eva-Hideyoshi dynamic as a negative thing, which is an interesting reflection of how it doesn’t seem to do the same for Shannon-George. But again, maybe that’s my preconceived notions tainting the scene - it very well might just be alluding to it while passing no judgement.

Not content to dehumanise just her own son, Eva has it out for the servant girl as well.

There’s a line here about George being in college and getting “wonderful grades”, so that probably places him at about 20-21? He was born in March, so that would have made him one of the youngest when he started school in April, so he’d have entered university at 18 and graduated at 21 or 22 depending on whether he went for a Bachelors or a Masters. So with Kinzo alive, we’re probably 2-3 years in the past?

I probably shouldn’t care about this too much - Ryukishi tends to play fast and loose with the span of time in his works (fall of the Soviet Union, anyone?) so trying to pin hard numbers on this is likely an exercise in futility.

Interesting - engraving into your heart conjures the same phrasing that “Kinzo” gave Natsuhi during her study scene in Episode 1. A sly hint that such an exchange was fabricated by Natsuhi, given her use of the term here?

It’s interesting how the POV bounces back between “I” and a third person “Shannon”. Possibly Yasu taking time to distinguish or dehumanise herself?

It’s interesting how Kanon is used as a way for Yasu to express the internal emotions that she’s not allowed to paint onto Shannon. There’s quite a few scenes where Shannon isn’t allowed to react and Kanon does it for her.

And so Yasu was so perturbed by Eva and Natsuhi’s words that she added a new voice to her internal dialogue.

Did you know that the answer is love? I wonder what happens if you extrapolate that idea to the plot as a whole. I’m sure there’s no relation.

So what’s the implication here? Yasu is giving herself a pep talk into using the bombs to destroy the shrine? But if that’s the case, that narrows the window significantly, since Kinzo died pretty much immediately after Yasu solved the Epitaph, right? So either this takes place at a very specific moment in time 2 years ago, they somehow faked Kinzo coming down to get George to leave but somehow Eva didn’t become suspicious, or the timeline isn’t consistent.

Ah, so it’s about conformity - an amusing sister topic to our previous discussion on societal expectations. It’s about Yasu needing to do something drastic, to ensure that something will change; that the life of furniture does not continue forever. Blowing up the shrine, and the eventual Epitaph Murders, are a chance for her to wrestle back control of her life; to have a say in what happens, rather than be a lower life form working around others. Eva and Natsuhi were the tipping point; the moment she starts to think more of herself, they both try and rip it from her, and she’s no longer willing to sit back and let that happen.

There’s a time limit on this as well, which almost certainly contributes to this being the inciting incident for the birth of Beatrice inside of Yasu. A perfect storm of pressure on all sides.

Kanon’s arrival here is fun to think about - after all, scenes with all 3 of them are still just a raging internal monologue. These should be very interesting to think about going forward.

I wonder how much of this is reflective of reality - of course, none of this could have happened, as it was a mutable mark that healed in a few days regardless; but it’s more interesting to think of fantasy adorning reality rather than replacing it. Perhaps Yasu burnt herself with cleaning chemicals - as an act reflective of willpower. To injure oneself and feel the pain; after all, furniture cannot feel pain, so it’s a pledge to herself to be human.

And now for my secret epilogue.

If my heart was not as full as it was, this would be a Post-Mortem. This would be a dissection of Episode 1, a mechanical look at the themes and thoughts developed throughout.

But this is not a heartless check of a cadaver. It is not without respect to the dead. I’m not here to talk scientifically, nor am I here to mourn; we are here to celebrate the life of the story we have just consumed. Henceforth, this is not a Post-Mortem - it is a Wake.

One of the issues with structuring Umireread as a reactionary play-by-play is that it’s difficult to say anything significantly meaningful about the story - while the opportunity has arisen from time to time, we’ll be doing the proper deep dive into the themes here.

Episode 1, while relatively simple on the surface, already establishes quite a lot of the significant themes that Umineko desires to talk about. Of note, we’ve leaned quite heavily into the concepts of truth and fantasy, the dangers of appealing to tradition and the resulting generational trauma, and the ease of dehumanisation towards those you don’t understand. I do not necessarily think that the levels that these are explored in Episode 1 by themselves are of significant note, but rather these explorations lay a phenomenal groundwork for future exploration instead of being complete topics in isolation.

Undoubtedly, the most significant theme explored in Episode 1 is that of truth versus fantasy. This exists in the text not just as a tool towards the mystery - with Battler noting in the Tea Party that he can only trust what he sees, and hence making clear that many of the seemingly unusual elements of the murders are entirely fabricated - but as a way of dealing with truths that offer nothing but suffering. Drawing from a background as a social worker, having been exposed to many terrible incidents and realities of domestic life that the greater public turns a blind eye to, Ryukishi accurately depicts denial as a coping mechanism and paints it with a nuanced brush that does not outright condone it - as evident from the cousins disparaging Maria for pushing her idealised fantasy forcibly onto them - but also ensures that the reader can see the benefits of such a tactic, with many characters being confronted with the truth in a way that is needlessly upsetting. The first twilight makes this evident with Battler being traumatised by witnessing the mangled corpses of his parents, burning the terrible picture into his psyche forever; while George is able to look away from the scene, and avoid having to carry the same weight from witnessing his would-be fiancée in such a state. There is no benefit to their mental health for many characters being privy to the mutilated states of their loved ones, yet the scenes continue to be witnessed by them, bringing naught but avoidable misery.

Being able to turn a blind eye to these truths, while it does not undo them, allows the characters to exist in “fantasy”, letting their mind save them from the horrors they do not need to comprehend. The Tea Party refers to collective fantasy as “magic”, stating that being able to retreat to such a place with others is something special, painting it as a positive thing. While I will not be getting too deep into the specifics, as I am not a theologian, we can see this phenomena in real life in cases such as Religion. Regardless of the truth of what happens to us after we die, humans are aware of the concept of oblivion, and for as long as they have had intelligent minds they have sought to reject it. Religions and other explanations that seek to deny the possibility of oblivion - even if they are not grounded in any known scientific principles or evidence - are an example of this sort of mentality. Religion, and these beliefs as a whole, act as a boon that makes the lives of the people within them better. Similarly, the world is host to significant horrors in all shapes and forms - war and famine are such broad terms that they almost feel sanitised, but the reality of them is devastating, and the fact that so many humans across the world are living in such unimaginable conditions can take a significant mental toll on the human mind. To those living in first world countries, who do not need to worry about where their next meal is coming from, whether today will be their last as explosives rain from the sky, whether continuing to live is even worth the suffering laid before them - being cognizant of these truths is not necessarily a positive thing. It is easy to forget in the information era, with easy access to the affairs of the world at a moment’s notice, but humans have spent the vast majority of their existence completely unaware of the events of far-off places. Even just a hundred years ago, if someone were to ignore the reports of a newspaper, they would be able to live their life centred on the actions and events that were immediately relevant to them. Such a life is not a moral failing; many of those who trek through social media sites, learning of terrible events in far off places, will never make a difference towards them. Their knowledge of these affairs offers no tangible benefit for them; only a further sense of dread towards the state of the world. Even those who deny this notion and insist on being educated on these matters, under some sense that this information makes them a better person, fall prey to the fantasies that have been constructed around them. While the news may lift the veil on atrocities in the middle east, there is a notable lack of reporting to many African countries and the events that are ongoing there. Would being acutely aware of the atrocities taking place over there actually benefit you in any way? Or, for the sake of your mental health, is it better to not concern yourself with negative affairs that may never impact your life in any way? Umineko takes the approach that can be constructed through game theory, stating that if truth makes your life measurably worse, and fantasy makes it measurably better, then you should opt for fantasy; on the understanding that your fantasy may not make the lives of others measurably better, and should be shared with caution and care.

On a lighter note - generational trauma. Umineko also establishes quite early on that the Ushiromiya Family are old money - while Kinzo managed to rebuild the family in the post-war era, meaning there is some separation of tradition and the Neo-Ushiromiya, the family has returned to conservatism and places great value on old fashioned ways. The family is significantly patriarchal, with the dining room arrangements establishing that grandchildren of the family matter more than the married partners of their parents. Women are thoroughly treated as being second-class, if not worse, with the term “borrowed womb” showing up on several occasions - stating that they are nothing to the Ushiromiya but a machine to pump out more children for them. This mentality takes root in Jessica, who as early as Chapter 1, feels defeated over the fact that her sex makes her inferior to men. Kinzo’s lecherous ways are also displayed as a trait that has progressed through the family, with Rudolf being a notorious womaniser and Battler having several moments where he is acting perverted towards all manner of girls in the family. Regarding the aforementioned mentality, Umineko makes sure to portray this in a negative light, by investigating how this stigma affects those who must abide by it. Kinzo is noted as having raised his children quite forcibly, being no stranger to beating them for insolence or perceived misbehaving. This iron-fisted approach to parenting has carried through to the next generation, with most of the cousins admitting to having received beatings, or physically receiving them through the course of the story. This most notably flares up in the portrayal of Rosa and Maria, with Rosa having trouble maintaining control over her life as a single mother to a neurodivergent child, exacerbating the problem by lashing out uncontrollably as she has learned from her father. Rosa’s reaction to being awoken by Genji in Chapter 7 is reminiscent of deep-seated trauma, believing her being stirred is an inherently negative sensation that will be accompanied by heavy reprimanding; potentially of a physical nature. This manifests in her tendency to violently beat Maria, ensuring that the cycle of abuse continues for generations to come, should the Ushiromiya family not be put to a stop before that.

Finally, Umineko makes explicit in the Witches’ Tea Party about the divide between treating characters with love and respect, identifying the human behind them, and seeing them as nothing more than parts of a story. This is reflected even within the story by the nature of dehumanisation, with characters such as Eva removing the humanity from Shannon and seeing her as naught but “some servant girl”. In the same way that someone reading a story with no intent to engage past a surface level understanding would reduce a character to mere tropes - for example, boxing Eva off as a “girl boss” and only engaging with her through the lens of that trope rather than as the complicated character she is - characters who are vibrant with their humanity have it taken away by those who do not care to understand them. As we will come to see, one of the beating hearts of Umineko is that of Yasu wanting someone to understand her; to see her not as a cold-hearted serial killer, nor as an illegitimate child seeking revenge, nor as a trans girl boss who can do no wrong. Anyone reducing her to an aspect of her personality and failing to engage with her beyond that lens has failed to fulfil her wish. She wants to be truly known, appreciated in her entirety by the uncountable aspects that are present in every human being. After all, if you reduce a character to a surface level trope - to but a single purpose in life - then they would be no different to a piece of Furniture.

Umineko will continue to build upon these themes and explore them in the Episodes to come - however, even isolated from that, Episode 1 has done a remarkable job of establishing and exploring these concepts in a way that most readers would fail to comprehend on an initial reading, let alone an immediate follow up should they decide to do so again without progressing further. In the same way that a character in a story must be appreciated in their entirety to be seen as human, so too must Umineko be consumed in full to truly appreciate the work that it sets out to do. After all, you must open your own heart to be able to realise the one that lies before you. Without love, the truth cannot be seen.

Beyond these themes, Umineko Episode 1 is a good piece of literature - by itself, it offers what feels like a relatively realistic depiction of a rich family thrust into a murder mystery situation, where the characters flail and doubt themselves while the clock runs down on what could have been an avoidable tragedy. There is a pervasive sense of dread as more characters are killed off and the survivors struggle with the reality that they do not even know what is killing them. It indulges in horror tropes that we do not really get to see in future episodes, as fantasy is accentuated and tools are provided to help cope with the mystery and avoid drowning in the uncertainties that plague would-be solvers of Episode 1; when a culprit could be identified relatively readily, but cannot be confirmed due to the probatio diabolica inherent to the possibility of a 19th person, or other outcomes such as hidden passages or inexplicable scientific tools that could bypass restrictions placed on apparent closed rooms.

Episode 1 is at its best when it’s really digging into the humanity of the characters - I have listed the first twilight as a specific highlight already, with the visceral reactions feeling incredibly real - perhaps to an extent that I would not be surprised if Ryukishi was drawing upon a specific incident he witnessed during his time as a social worker. However, Umineko is at its worst when the opposite occurs, when humanity is cast aside for the purposes of narrative or exploration. There are several instances when characters will have just gone through unimaginable grief, and within hours are casually chatting about concepts like children who just read something cool on wikipedia. And of course, the story is served a great disservice by opening so heavily with Battler attempting to grope his family members.

Umineko Episode 1 also appears to dwell quite readily in subversion. In many ways, it looks to make the reader lower their guard, before hitting them in a way to ensure that they know they are reading something different to what they are used to. The game opens with a jovial mood and several tracks reminiscent of more generic visual novels, before introducing more complicated musical arrangements and the horror themes further on. The Tea Party in particular directly tricks anyone expecting Umineko to be a rehash of Higurashi, making it clear mere moments later that this will be a very different tale to the time loop mystery that many had read before. Battler’s antics may also be viewed through this lens, with early Battler appearing more like a generic protagonist in a work targeted towards otaku, erring on the side of lechery and having it swept aside as a joke. Whether this was a wise approach, given that early Umineko (and much of the merchandising) is designed to appeal towards otaku while the work itself is a scathing criticism of them, is yet to be seen.

And, if I may finish by indulging myself once more, I just want to quickly reflect on the current state of the reread. I have no doubts that we will be finishing this - while I can’t guarantee that I can handle near-daily updates for the next 20 weeks, this shan’t be a project that will be abandoned halfway. We will progress to the very last lines of Episode 8, by hell or high water.

We are around 32,000 words into this extended analysis. I wasn’t quite sure what form I wanted this to take when we started, beyond a vague idea of the format, but I feel like we’ve already got past the initial hurdles, dealt with some growing pains, and settled into a good approach regarding what should be addressed and omitted for each chapter. Which parts should be acknowledged out of interest, what jokes should be made for levity in our own work, and what demands a more thorough investigation under a microscope. While Episode 1 is actually one of the longer episodes, funnily enough, I still foresee us easily writing more than 200,000 words by the time the pen is placed down after Episode 8. I anticipate Umireread to be longer than even the longest Episode of Umineko.

That being said, thank you to everyone who has engaged with this so far - while this is still a project I would want to undertake even if it was all being projected into the void, the humble amounts of interaction have been good to see. I appreciate that we seem to have a couple of readers coming back for each post, and a few people who have left their own comments and thoughts - which have all been interesting to read. As I said at the very start of this work, to all the people who have joined us already, to all the people joining us now, and to anyone who may join us, no matter how far in the future, thank you for taking part in this journey. I hope that, just as the love evident in every part of Umineko radiates from the page, the love within my own words can be seen by all that they reach.

With that, Episode 1 comes to a close.

Interesting note in the tips about how there’s canonically multiple “on” servants on Rokkenjima, and that Kanon and Shannon just happen to be the two that we see. I wonder what Yasu’s other personalities are like… and how many costumes she has to be able to fool the rest of the family.

Not entirely related to Umineko, but I do like how George is still considered “one of the kids” at age 23. Speaking as a 27 year old, entirely accurate, he’s still a baby, but it’s so common to see pieces of media treat people in their early 20s as bonafide adults - so this is really refreshing to read.

BATTLER DON’T SEXUALISE THE FUCKING CHILD. This is undoubtedly the low point of Umineko jesus christ

There’s a point made here about Maria always keeping her promises - that’s joining the “George never lies” in the folder of things to keep an eye out for going forward.

George??? You can’t just laugh and say “the cousins didn’t feel complete” without Battler in response to him talking about groping a 9 year old??????? Like, maybe there’s a point here about how Yasu would have been a similar age to Maria the last time she met Battler and crushed on him, but really this is just indefensible, creepy writing that the story is much worse for.

Moving swiftly on - it’s interesting how Kanon is introduced as being around 2 years younger than the group, but Shannon is described as being the same age. I suppose it’s an intentional ploy to make sure they’re not twins (which would raise more suspicion about them being the same person, and could risk skirting close to Knox’s 10th), but it’s still something to take note of. I wonder what the ages of the other “on” servants are given as?

Yasu once again stuttering as her mind fills with thoughts of “hot boy”.

I hate the justification here. Like, I’m glad that Ryukishi is at least trying to paint Battler as more than a mindless perv by saying he does it as an act to lighten the mood, but like, you’re still writing him as a perv. You can just have him be charming without trying to randomly sexually harass every girl he meets. But then I guess he wouldn’t be taking after Kinzo, eh?

So. This scene.

I think of all analytical re-reads of Umineko, this is probably the most notorious scene to pick apart, since it’s simultaneously another case of Battler being a creep at the start of the story, but arguably one of the most important moments where Yasu’s entire plan was inches away from falling apart.

On the one hand, I am a sucker for the stuff going on behind the scenes here - Yasu wants to be caught. She wants Battler to discover that Shannon is a fake identity, but Battler being unable to “commit to the bit” (if you will) prevents him from doing so, and there is no universe where he is able to prevent the massacre before it even begins. It’s dramatic irony at its finest.

But… What message does that really give? The moral is “if Battler was more of a perv then everything would have been okay”, which is, uh, not good? The most charitable reading here is one of Yasu writing this scene intentionally as “I wish Battler was more forward/aggressive but he’s a real gentleman”, which I’m still not super on board with. That potentially has some insight into Yasu’s psyche and messed up relationship with sexual urges, especially if you see it through the lens of a metaphor for Yasu being unable to engage with other people in that way, but that still leaves us with the big issue here.

The biggest problem is this is another scene of Battler being a creep far before the audience is hooked. So far, we’ve been introduced to almost 20 characters, none of them have really done anything yet, the plot hasn’t progressed beyond “they’re here for a family meeting”, and our protagonist is out here sexually harassing women once again. I legitimately do not blame anyone who gets to this point and then immediately puts Umineko down, never to pick it up again. Maybe this would have been a good scene to put at the start of Episode 2 for the earlier reasons, but as is, it just does far more harm than good to the story as a whole. Nevertheless, we powered through it the first time, so we’ll keep pressing through here as well.

Nice pause before furniture here. I can’t help but feel that she scrambled for that excuse, and that the real reason she’s hesitant to stop people from Battler-ing her is, once again, because she’s desperate for her deception to be uncovered. 

It’s extremely funny to see this just plainly stated and brushed away. I sure hope this isn’t foreshadowing to Kanon and Shannon being the illegitimate heir of the Ushiromiya family or something.

Alright, after Battler being the absolute worst against Maria and Shannon, I think we’re through the low point. Don’t get me wrong, we’re about to barrel into the inheritance discussion, which is possibly one of the driest parts of the whole story, but I’m fairly sure all the perv stuff is out the way and we can stop being disgusted at the guy we’re supposed to root for.

There’s a throwaway comment here from Maria about seeing herself as unsociable and it just kills me. My heart breaks for her. Although we haven’t got to the point of her going full creepy kid, so who knows, maybe I’ll grow to hate her again.

Interesting first mention of the war here. It’s one of those details that seems superfluous in the moment, and you’re probably skipping over it automatically, but the history here is fairly significant.

The big door sound effect in Umineko is definitely one of the more iconic ones in it. I can’t help but think that it sounds a lot like a video tape being played (heck, maybe it is, sound design is all about lying to your ears). I know it’s likely unintentional, but it feels thematic with the whole elements of having a fantasy story play out before your eyes.

bore-ral intensifies

And here’s our Golden Witch.

Umineko is a masterclass in misdirection with a lot of its writing. There’s a common theme where it will walk you through a truth, but then go “but no, you’re smarter than that, that can’t be right” and make you abandon the reality that it just waved in your face. In this case, it’s the discussion about the Witch in the Forest and Folklore - you’re told there’s a Witch out there, but come on, you and I both know that these sorts of stories are just made up to stop kids from running into dangerous places, so that’s clearly false. Anyway, while your ego is being massaged, there actually is a Witch in the Forest that the kids needed to stay away from, get rug pulled nerd

Would the 2 year time period of the portrait being installed roughly line up with Kinzo’s death? I’m not sure if it’s just an element of the reworked graphics, but you can see a portrait in Kinzo’s study as early as the Prologue, so I’m wondering if they just took the one that he had in there and placed it out here.

There’s a line here about the whole thing being creepy as hell - I can’t help but wonder whether she’s actually talking about the portrait, or the whole covering for Kinzo act.

No wonder you feel the same misfortune, given she’s the one who blew up the shrine to test that the bombs still worked.

Aha, here’s the dismissal of the sexism in the Ushiromiya family that I was looking for. I’m happy to rescind some of my comments about the presence of it in Chapter 1, although the story did leave that hanging in the air a little long for my liking. Especially considering Battler needed way more redeeming features to make up for his actions in these first few chapters.

Once again, very bold of the story to be going into excruciating detail about the Ushiromiya family before any of them have been endeared to us. Getting all of the details out of the way now definitely makes for a better story later on, but man, I just wish that anything of import had actually happened yet.

A lot of the discussion on chauvinism and sexism takes a very sorrowful tone when viewed through the lens of Yasu’s writing. If women are only good as “borrowed wombs” and she’s reduced to the level of furniture after the accident…

I also feel pretty sorry for Natsuhi here as a fish out of water. I honestly can’t wait for Episode 5 to see her front and centre again.

And then they all starved. The end.

God this scene is so good. Jessica is taking any chance she can to rebel against having to pretend Kinzo is still alive. Seeing her go “I feel better without him” and having Natsuhi slam her down for knowing the real connotation of that is *chef’s kiss*

A sealed room… I’m sure we won’t be seeing many of them in the future.

It’s interesting how our first proper fantasy scene isn’t even related to the murders or the actions of Yasu, but of Krauss pretending Kinzo is still alive.

Kinzo would know all about having your own body used as firewood.

Honestly, it’s kind of incredible how this scene immediately establishes the servants as associates for the fantasy scenes. As soon as we get the red truth that Kinzo died before the game begun in the Episode 4 Tea Party, anyone revisiting this scene really has the entire game blown open for them.

Sure is, buddy.

Sure are, buddy.

The mental image of Genji just sitting alone in the study and kicking back as he drinks to himself is so funny to me. I can’t help but wonder what he was feeling in these moments of protecting the masquerade.

Yasu giving the gold medal to Yasu here. Everyone else is unworthy.

…Well, that’s what the story is about, at the end of the day. Dealing with the true leader of the Ushiromiya family having multiple people in the same body.

We’re still in the opening stretch and we’re already repeating ourselves, woof. I’m glad we’re getting more Kinzo time since he’s the one actively reminding us of the actual plot, but I don’t think we covered any particular ground here that we didn’t already show off in the Prologue. I wonder if anyone has done a count of all the times we get a proper “BEATORICHEEEE” in the story.

I’m really glad Jessica is having so much fun with the Kinzo lies. She clearly doesn’t want to keep up the facade, but has to, so she’s making her own entertainment out of it to cope with the situation. As someone constantly inventing personal win conditions and games to play to stave off the suffocating mundanity of a normal life, I relate to that hard.

End of Chapter.

Bonus round!

Ah, I'd entirely forgotten about the Fukuin house stuff - yeah, you're right. I'm actually mildly disappointed by that, since it kind of nullifies the point on Shannon and Kanon's names being a reflection of their Ushiromiya heritage (since they're just names given out to all the orphans), and also the idea of having more personalities than just these 2 was kind of fun. I'd definitely be interested in seeing someone take a stab at a forgery with a third Yasu personality in the mix.