What I’ve always loved about narrative works is that, regardless of the meaning the author intends to convey,…
I really don’t understand the contempt you harbor toward Kuji and Azuma.
They are two adults who have been through a lot in life, yet despite everything—their differences, life’s hardships and their own wounds—they’re trying to make their relationship work so that both of them can find comfort in a shared journey.
There are no strict rules; every person has needs that must be respected without making them feel “wrong” in any way.
“Kuji has unresolved issues and Azuma is a spineless codependent.” To me, these sound like sweeping judgments that leave no room for the nuances of their personalities or the possibility of those nuances coexisting. Yet they’re telling you exactly the opposite: we’re broken individually, but we can be whole together without giving up who we are. We can take it slow, we can give ourselves time to get used to each other—there’s no rush.
For my part, maturity has taught me that since life sucks more or less for everybody, each of us has the right to find our own happiness however and wherever we can—sometimes even in places that might seem dysfunctional to outsiders. But in the end, what do outsiders care?
I'm not trying to change your mind, I'm not that presumptuous and you have every right to your opinion. And of course you don't care enough. I just wanted to rant about the fact that there isn't a single proper way to live relationships (of any kind). As long as it works for the people involved and is respectful.
Just to clarify something, Even to date (2026) in Christianity, same sex relationships are considered a sin, meaning…
Correct. The real sin (at least for the most recent Catholics doctrine) is not much being gay but rather acting on it. You can love someone of the same sex but you shouldn't act on any physical level. Then of course we know that priests and in general religious people rarely adhere to what they preach and expect from others. Anyway, what I wanted to say was that the last scene of the second episode was really on point because the sin happens when you act on your impulses (lust).
Finale:The best, most affecting, and realistic acting in the entire show came from nephew Ryuto at the restaurant…
What I’ve always loved about narrative works is that, regardless of the meaning the author intends to convey, the viewer will take away whatever meaning they choose to assign to it. It’s as if each of us, watching the same episode, sees a different one, ultimately searching for ourselves within it, like in a mirror.
It’s surprising, for example, how my perspective and yours are completely opposite. Take, for instance, the issue of the house key.
Kuji is a loner who has always lived alone; he’s used to not sharing his space or his time with anyone. He makes his own decisions independently; he hasn’t had to answer to anyone for practically his entire life. Giving Azuma a key to his house means giving up part of that freedom. No, not freedom—this state of mind. It’s neither an easy nor a quick process. Yet he’s ready to face it, obviously on his own terms. I believe respecting one’s own inclinations is part of a mature and responsible way of living relationships. If I go against my nature to please you, how long can it last? He gives him the key, but asks him to respect his space. Is that such an absurd request? I’ve lived alone for years, and the idea that someone—even someone I love—might invade my space and my daily life fills me with anxiety. So I can understand why Kuji asks Azuma to let him know before he comes over, so he can get used to the new situation gradually without feeling like it’s an intrusion.
Aaaand I'm pretty sure you won't agree on anything I've written because your mirror reflects a different image from mine ;)
I really loved this, beginning to end. Loved the characters, the setting, the vibe. I loved the old house (to me one of the main characters). I loved that it was never over the top but that it could convey so many emotions with little gestures. Are the characters flawed? Of course they are, like real people. Is it a perfect relationship? Of course not, like every last real life relationship. But it works for them and that's all that matters. That's where, to me, the beauty of this show lies. I'll rewatch for sure because I'm sure there are details that I've missed.
A special mention to Azuma wearing that keyring like an engagement ring.
my question was why they Xiao Chen & his female friend wait 5 years to divorce? like the mother died and she…
I think it was for the advantages the status was providing her. She said that thanks to being married to him she was able to consolidate her position in the company
Many have you have already written What I had come here to say, so I won’t repeat it. But I still need to vent: I really, really despise the younger brother. Not an ounce of compassion from me.
OK, everyone, I’ve got a question for all those of you who are shocked by the change in tone in the NC scenes. Choose the answer you think is most plausible: 1- The production team were completely drunk whilst filming the first part of the episodes, and then suddenly after 6 episodes they came to their senses; they started filming the NC scenes properly but kept the badly shot ones because they couldn’t be bothered to reshoot them; 2- The first episodes were filmed by a bunch of amateurs who had no idea what they were doing, but since they were working for free, nobody batted an eyelid. The actors adapted to the low filming standards and did a rubbish job. Suddenly the professionals returned (perhaps they’d been on strike—as we all know it happens often in Japan) to take charge of the situation; they raised the standard but left the old footage in to keep the amateurs happy; 3- It was a deliberate stylistic choice. From the very beginning, the sex scenes were choreographed in an amateurish and almost ridiculous - grotesque if you like - manner, as a deliberate narrative choice, so that the moment of the switch between the two protagonists would be clear to the viewer. The moment when sex was no longer just gymnastics aimed at satisfying a whim, in which the other person was merely a means to an end, (especially for Kaji, whose point of view is the one that usually accompanies those scenes) but the sharing of all-encompassing feelings.
Right!? I was like "waaait a minute, I know this reference, I see what you did there writers" 😄 (Tho…
I certainly hope not, and that the reference will Just end there! 😅. But who knows, perhaps they’re leaving us breadcrumbs along the way… now I’m wondering if they left other references that I’ve missed
I appreciated the Romeo and juliet quote at the beginning of the episode, as a parallel to the fact that nakhun is a Shakespeare student in present time.
Because it’s the first time feelings are involved. It was scripted to be that way from the beginning.
Yes, what I meant is that the nc scenes before were purposefully weird and cold, almost comical I'd say. A plot device. They were meant to be that way to show the difference between hedonistic sex only made for personal pleasure in which the other person is just a mean to an end, and loving sex where you take pleasure from the other person's pleasure and is amplified by love and longing.
Why don't they just talk?!!! You sit down, talk it out, explain what happened and your emotional reaction to it. It's not hard at all!! Then again, if couples just talked their misunderstandings out, we wouldn't have 90% of bl series.
This show requires patience. If u like vertical drama speed , it isn’t for you. But ep 6 is so full of love…
That’s what I said. People who only look for explicit, over the top romance will be disappointed.I get that it might not be everyone’s cup of tea but it is What it is, they will enjoy other types of shows. Was it advertised as a great and grand love story? Perhaps the bl label was wrong as there are no no boys here
This show requires patience. If u like vertical drama speed , it isn’t for you. But ep 6 is so full of love…
Every word you said. I think people don't really get that before going on with your life and building a new future, you first have got to let go of your past. This series requires watchers to tune in with the symbolism it depicts. That banana bread means so many things in its simplicity. But you need to pay attention to the deep meaning of things. And may I add, to be aquainted with Japanese adult productions and their top notch ability to show, not tell. Of course if you're only in for the romance you'll be sorely disappointed.
They are two adults who have been through a lot in life, yet despite everything—their differences, life’s hardships and their own wounds—they’re trying to make their relationship work so that both of them can find comfort in a shared journey.
There are no strict rules; every person has needs that must be respected without making them feel “wrong” in any way.
“Kuji has unresolved issues and Azuma is a spineless codependent.”
To me, these sound like sweeping judgments that leave no room for the nuances of their personalities or the possibility of those nuances coexisting. Yet they’re telling you exactly the opposite: we’re broken individually, but we can be whole together without giving up who we are. We can take it slow, we can give ourselves time to get used to each other—there’s no rush.
For my part, maturity has taught me that since life sucks more or less for everybody, each of us has the right to find our own happiness however and wherever we can—sometimes even in places that might seem dysfunctional to outsiders. But in the end, what do outsiders care?
I'm not trying to change your mind, I'm not that presumptuous and you have every right to your opinion. And of course you don't care enough. I just wanted to rant about the fact that there isn't a single proper way to live relationships (of any kind). As long as it works for the people involved and is respectful.
It’s surprising, for example, how my perspective and yours are completely opposite.
Take, for instance, the issue of the house key.
Kuji is a loner who has always lived alone; he’s used to not sharing his space or his time with anyone. He makes his own decisions independently; he hasn’t had to answer to anyone for practically his entire life. Giving Azuma a key to his house means giving up part of that freedom. No, not freedom—this state of mind. It’s neither an easy nor a quick process. Yet he’s ready to face it, obviously on his own terms. I believe respecting one’s own inclinations is part of a mature and responsible way of living relationships. If I go against my nature to please you, how long can it last? He gives him the key, but asks him to respect his space. Is that such an absurd request?
I’ve lived alone for years, and the idea that someone—even someone I love—might invade my space and my daily life fills me with anxiety. So I can understand why Kuji asks Azuma to let him know before he comes over, so he can get used to the new situation gradually without feeling like it’s an intrusion.
Aaaand I'm pretty sure you won't agree on anything I've written because your mirror reflects a different image from mine ;)
A special mention to Azuma wearing that keyring like an engagement ring.
Choose the answer you think is most plausible:
1- The production team were completely drunk whilst filming the first part of the episodes, and then suddenly after 6 episodes they came to their senses; they started filming the NC scenes properly but kept the badly shot ones because they couldn’t be bothered to reshoot them;
2- The first episodes were filmed by a bunch of amateurs who had no idea what they were doing, but since they were working for free, nobody batted an eyelid. The actors adapted to the low filming standards and did a rubbish job. Suddenly the professionals returned (perhaps they’d been on strike—as we all know it happens often in Japan) to take charge of the situation; they raised the standard but left the old footage in to keep the amateurs happy;
3- It was a deliberate stylistic choice. From the very beginning, the sex scenes were choreographed in an amateurish and almost ridiculous - grotesque if you like - manner, as a deliberate narrative choice, so that the moment of the switch between the two protagonists would be clear to the viewer. The moment when sex was no longer just gymnastics aimed at satisfying a whim, in which the other person was merely a means to an end, (especially for Kaji, whose point of view is the one that usually accompanies those scenes) but the sharing of all-encompassing feelings.
Now take your pick, I'm curious.