Riuva : Research Institute for Unicultural Visual Arts

As the relatively carefree days of being a student recede further into the past, Tomoya begins to look forward to the future, as the important decisions of his life looms ever larger. But beyond school life does not mean beyond a life of learning, for mentors can be found even when one has become a part of the larger working society out there, and it is these mentors who can, from experience, show one the way not to make the mistakes they made, even if it only means that ultimately they can only help one learn to make one’s own mistakes, instead of repeating theirs. But from the mistakes made by one and one’s own mentors, experience and learning contributes to growth, and helps one find their own true path. And that is the history of the great family known as humankind, of which we are seeing only such a small part of, as intimate and real as it might be.

CLANNAD ~After Story~, Episode 12.

A daughter is God’s punishment on a man for having once been a young rascal. I’ve forgotten where I read this phrase from, but it’s still so amusingly true everytime I see something like this happen. Let’s just say you asked for it, Akio-san. :p

I think it’s a very nice touch that Tomoya can try, but Nagisa has become so familiar with his ways that he can no longer successfully troll the latter to dodge the topic. It’s also very sweet how Nagisa has taken it upon herself to constantly remind him that he can’t run away from the problem he’s most averse to facing forever, and that eventually he’ll have to deal with it.

I’ve thought of him as little more than a bit character in Fuuko’s arc. I’ve always thought he’s going to be one of those supporting characters in the huge cast of CLANNAD who is not going to have much influence on the main storyline. I’ve even dismissed him as being little more than a drama whore at one point. But at this point, I’m practically choking myself eating all the words I’ve used to describe Yoshino Yuusuke; he’s become such an influential figure in Tomoya’s life, and practically from out of nowhere too. Munch munch munch.

The first meeting of a most unusual match. Although it’s a common fantasy for otakus, the teacher-student relationship trope is probably not all that common in real life, much less if the female is the one who is already in working society first. I’m actually wondering what kind of a scandal they might have caused in such an uptight society as Japan, particularly when you keep in mind the fact that it’s the same society that created such an uproar about the virginity of a MOTHER goddess…..

It was actually pretty neat to see first-hand Yoshino’s path to the superstardom that had henceforth only been hinted at within the story, and the course of the rise and fall which, although somewhat predictable for the rock star that he is, remains an intimate look into the trials and tribulations of a career in the world of popular music from a first-person perspective. That kind of perspective is, perhaps, not something most of us would truly understand, or get to experience ourselves for that matter.

Although come to think of it, the first time we get a hint about Yoshino’s rockstar past is when Sunohara mentioned Mei’s fan worship of the former’s music. If we allow several years between Yoshino’s rock career and his current day job as an electrician….wouldn’t Mei have been a little young to be a fan of rock music at the time? Or maybe, it’s just me underestimating the youngsters once again, me being the old geezer that I’ve become….

How does it feel, when one is no longer pursuing a course of life for one’s own sake, but is doing so for the sake of others? How is it like to be burdened of the expectations of unknown thousands? What does it mean when one’s songs are the reflection not of one’s own ideals, but of the ideals of everyone listening to these songs? What is it like when one’s songs are no longer truly one’s own? Can we ever truly understand what a burden such a realization can be to the creative tendencies of those who perform for us, who have the task of leading the rest of us through the cathartic experience that allows us to, with refreshed spirit and renewed vigour, continue living our lives?

We revere them as idols, but they are ultimately only human. Yet where our hopes, dreams, and wishes were once upon a distant past wholly placed unto the infinitely-dependable shoulders of the imaginary constructs we know by such divine terms as gods and deities, in this modern era it is these merely human figures who have to bear some of that great invisible burden on their own shoulders. Yet, being merely human, how much must it take for them to withstand such a burden? Is it perhaps any wonder that so many of them eventually can’t take any more, and start running down the path of self-destruction?

Just as love can lead one astray on a path one should never have embarked upon, it can just as easily lead one to a realization about the true path that one should have taken all along. Perhaps, love is neither the bewitching evil that leads good men and women to make the wrong choices in life, nor is it wholly the elixir of happiness that it is so often marketed as and believed to be. What it is, perhaps, is that it’s a force for chaos, which can just as easily lead one down a particular path as it can another, and it is up to the individual to make what he/she will of it. Either way, it remains the sublime, subtle force that pushes people together, incorporeal and unable to be grasped even with the coldest of rational logic.

In a way, I am starting to see what I used to call Yoshino’s drama-whoring in a new light; maybe he’s not just drama-whoring for the lulz of it. Maybe he really means every word of "LOVE!" he yells out to much melodramatic, mass-sighing effect. As cool as he acts, Yoshino shows himself to be a man of much passion, and though that passion has been tempered by the dampening effects of life experiences, it has left that passion not extinguished, but mellowed and matured like a good wine. It is this rare combination of experience and matured passion that Tomoya, and instead any of us good men worth his salt, can and should learn a thing or two from. Above all, keep the true path in one’s sight.

When I saw this, I can’t help but think back to the utter farce that was their first attempt at holding hands, back in Episode 23 of the first season. It was awkward to the point of almost-ridiculous especially in this modern day, but it makes for such a nice contrast with the scene here now, where they have progressed to the point of doing it almost naturally.

Unfortunately, life has plenty more curveballs to throw at Tomoya yet.

Prejudice is not something that ends with the childish, naive world of schooling life; it continues on, in a subtler but no less pervasive way, and affecting those at the receiving end of the prejudiced attitudes in ever more ways than before, when it was just overt bullying. It keeps those prejudiced against from certain life chances enjoyed by those of his/her peers unaffected by the same level of prejudice, and usually the only way is to work around them as best as one is able.

For me, and from my guesses quite a number of my Singaporean compatriots, this scene might be especially poignant to us who feel like we have little to tie us to the place when we were born and raised. Within the Singaporean youth, much cynicism can be found amongst the local youth, many of whom see this nation-state as a place that confines and restricts, instead of a place worth returning to. As such, a popular attitude is that if and when we are able, we would emigrate and leave this restrictive city-state with all its confining rules behind, to live a whole new life of freedom beyond its shores; and while I too feel little that ties me to my homeland, such that I too wouldn’t mind dropping everything here for something new out there, somehow I feel Nagisa’s words to be at the same time wise, and beyond my ability to comprehend. How would I be able, like the wise little lass, to see the good things that this place have given me to enrich my life, instead of remaining hung up over the negative aspects of the place like me and so many of my kind? How can we feel like we truly belong to a place so much, we’ll be fine with taking the bad along with the good that comes of having been born, raised, and living in it?

The glass screen between them, merely a physical manifestation of the barrer that has existed between them for so long. Anger and resentment hidden behind one side of the barrier, guilt on the other. But under all the overt displays of anger, of frustration, and of resignment, what the child really longs for deep inside is some sort, any sort, of acknowledgement from the parent; yet it is that very same acknowledgement that the parent feels too guilty to give, burdened by the sin he committed against the unfortunate child so many years ago. The solution to this impasse looks so simple when put in words….but why is it, somehow, so hard to put in practice?

There are times when the curveballs that life throws hurts so bad, one feels an urgent, almost desperate need to do something drastic to cope with the impact. Oftentimes, this can result in behaviour which is self-destructive in nature, hurting ourselves even more unnecessarily. However, it helps to have someone always there to look out for one, and to keep one from the worst excesses of one’s own behaviour. One who has such a significant other, is a lucky person indeed.

It was the strangest of marriage proposals, so far removed from all the stereotypical romantic notions associated with such a significant event in the life of two different people. And yet, despite all of that, there is little else as romantic, as intimate, as the act of two people realizing that they cannot do without each other, and making the vow that will hold them to that lifelong task of ensuring that they can always count on each other. When two such people as Okazaki Tomoya and Furukawa Nagisa, both so endearing and so flawed in such an incredibly real manner come together in the act of fully complementing each other through the rest of their lives, it makes for a scene that can only be described as beauty in imperfection. There are few enough such sights to be had, whether be it in real life or in fiction, so for all intents and purposes, this is probably one of the biggest defining moments in the After Story to date. This shall be, and hopefully will only be the first of many, moments to be remembered in what would hopefully become one of the most meaningful series in anime to be ever had.

Ascaloth in Tasmania, signing out.