kure-nai: Oh YES!

I miss being able to ride in shopping carts, as that was always the best part of youth. Maybe I can ride in a Zentradi shopping cart. You know, if Zentradi actually existed.

There is now no way on Earth you’ll ever be able to convince me that Murasaki is anything other than an actual seven-year-old and not some kind of bizarre loli-bait for otaku. Then again, this latter school of thought is either dying out or has no real ground to base this on other than “Holy crap, they go to the bath house twice and Murasaki gets naked!” as if one normally takes a bath in clothes other than one’s birthday suit.

Just like a real seven-year-old, though, Murasaki is a handful, breaking DS Lites and dolls like they’re nothing. (Murasaki is never touching my DS, I can tell you that right now; she will simply have to play Osu! Tatakae! Ouendan on her own DS and break her own damn screen. Although, I still say that the sight of Murasaki playing Ouendan, especially given her stylus skills in this episode, would be hilarious). She’s every bit as joyously rewarding and frustratingly annoying as actual children are. Granted, there’s a difference between watching a child be a child on TV and watching a child be a child all over your living room walls with the crayon set, but the prospect of parenthood seems slightly less daunting now. Let’s just hope that kure-nai doesn’t follow Murasaki into her angst-filled rebellious teenage years where she gets her hair dyed and a lip piercing and a tattoo in an embarassing place and other teenage joys that I voluntarily skipped out on as a teenager, since I’m boring.

The focus of this episode, however, seemed to be mostly on the relationship between Shinkurou and Yuuno. I don’t think I would have pegged Yuuno for being the daughter of a family of trained killers, although I guess they hinted at it enough times for it to not have been too big of a surprise. I can’t remember if they’ve mentioned this in past episodes, but the Houzukis’ “adopted” Shinkurou after his parents died and began training him in the ways of their family, i.e. the fine art of killing people.

So it was interesting to see that the relationship between Yuuno and Shinkurou, who had always seemed like more than friends yet less than lovers, to rather be that of a kind of familial relationship, if not by blood. I don’t know if kure-nai is going to go down the “assign Shinkurou a love interest” route or not, but there’s a tiny spark between the two that could blossom into something better. Or not, because who knows if a romance subplot is what kure-nai really needs at this time?

And Shinkurou seems to regret having installed the supernatural knife-thing in his arm, as Yuuno pointed out to him. As he said himself, he granted himself that ability to make himself stronger, but now that he has it, it’s more of a burden on him than anything else. Not just in that he has to do the jobs for Benika, as he’d probably do those with or without the bone-knife, but in that he has to actively try to repress the thing while engaging in combat. It’s like a constant reminder to him that there are two ways to attain power: through artifical means, and through hard work and effort. He chose the first in his youth, and, now, he must wrestle with his choice, which sometimes prevents him from following the second path. It’s a delicously tangible reminder of his (presumed) failure as a human.

What part Murasaki has in all this, though, is unknown. She certainly seems to be melting his heart a little, and her very presence gives Shinkurou something to strive for, something to protect–a raison d’etre, as it were. And doesn’t everyone need one of those?