我的裝扮親愛的/ kisekoi 始終很迷人，但是它的續集已經達到了一個新的水平，這種續集更具創意，主題更緊密，在此過程中，它在其探索的亞文化中更加多樣化。讓我們深入研究的變化！
我的禮服的第一季/// sono bisque goll wa koi wo suru ，我們將其稱為 kisekoi ，以節省一個完美的標題，這是一個完美的選擇。但是，這是對原始作品所包含的內容的還原性封裝。請注意，這並不總是一個負面的方面，更不用說破壞交易了。如果有的話，您可能會認為這樣的改編很自然。通過長期持續甚至完成的出版物的遠見，設計緊密集中的體驗要容易得多，而原始作者才剛剛開始與未知的作品作鬥爭。因此，某些系列的改編已經得到了改善，無論是通過回顧一下尷尬的擬合度，還是僅僅通過重點選擇。
在Kisekoi方面，我不相信情況並非如此。同樣，不要將其視為對首個電視節目的嚴厲批評，這總體上是可靠的。看到它的任何人都可以證明，其交付範圍從技術上的聲音到有時出色，動畫標準舒適地超過了當前電視動漫的規範。 And yet, the arrival of its sequel demonstrates the existence of a broader potential that they couldn’t tap into the first time through.
Season 1’s relative narrowness首先從一個方面開始，您幾乎無法指責Creative Team:情節數量。憑藉其處置的一個課程，工作人員為他們提供了最佳選擇，並以測量的速度進行了，儘管這意味著他們不會到達漫畫真正大步前進的弧線（當時是最近的弧線）。儘管總是很有趣， shinichi fukuda 的作品需要一段時間才能從可愛的浪漫喜劇中提升，這聽起來不錯，這些信息聽起來不錯，這些信念在每一頁上遍布每一頁的信念，而您忍不住要購買的那種信念。
在更具體的角度上，這意味著該系列逐漸擴大了它的範圍。它對前者的尊重永遠不會受到質疑。該系列中的幾章以上，包括早期階段，在對愛好的描繪中是如此詳盡，以至於他們可以用作教程。這也轉化為動漫的第一個季節，毫無疑問地對亞文化進行了充滿愛意……或者說，在他們有時間適應的材料中，它存在於其中的片段中。這足以朝著主動的狂熱和衍生作品等思想作為傳播您的愛的寶貴方式，以及反對我們應該喜歡的社會壓力的推動力。儘管這些主題自然伴隨著Gojo和Marin在嶄露頭角的浪漫中，但在此階段仍未完全形成。這些概念感覺與生產的亮點有些脫節，而根本不是與它探索的文化中大多數人的現實相關的所有內容。簡而言之，這些主題是可愛的romcom的適當窗戶敷料。
在某種程度上，味道狹窄的範圍歸結為執行。如果我告訴您閉上眼睛並想像第一個季節的一些令人難忘的序列，我知道一個事實，即有彈性，對Marin的身體的體積描繪，穿著輕薄的衣服突然出現。這並不是要在讀者中羞辱變態的嘗試-在旨在欣賞藝術的網站中，變態是首先是一種榮譽徽章。不過，我的意思是說，這些序列獲得了一系列令人難忘的，顯然是該系列的常規交付。衝擊價值（即使地板仍然值得受到尊重）是一個錯誤的印象，它是該系列的全部內容的錯誤印象。
。值得注意的是，當回顧第一個季節時，
Kisekoi的一部分。我們正在關注兩個青少年，每個少年都從自己的尷尬角度來弄清楚他們的性行為。其中一個對她的身體充滿信心，可以嘗試為成人遊戲中的挑釁性角色扮演角色扮演。強調了一個與這個主題的系列之間的關係和身體的描繪，以及她非常喜歡色情遊戲的事實。而且，最重要的是，福建並不掩飾她喜歡以性感的方式描繪馬林。鑑於這個前提以及團隊與一些傑出的角色藝術家的訪問權，他們會很高興地全力以赴，這既不是一個驚喜，也不是第一個賽季的許多亮點對應於馬林·馬林（Racy Marin Cuts）。如果我們純粹判斷執行情況，那麼問題是由於感知還是相對弱點，這是Kisekoi S1的另一面，它並沒有以相同的力量擊中。
對於初學者來說，要記住第一個賽季作品的背景很重要。雖然為電視動漫標準製作精良，但我們不能忘記它遵循 Wonder Egg Priority 的絕對內爆。儘管 shouta umehara 是動畫製作人的野心，毫無疑問，毫無疑問，克洛斯工廠最負盛名的團隊，但他有時甚至都過度了，以至於也變得麻煩了。他絕不是一個殘酷的領導人，他利用他人，而是率領甚至自殺任務的輕率類型。不要忘記WEP送往醫院的人是他本人。當時他的態度正在逐漸發展，以後來影響Kisekoi的第二個賽季的方式-但比其他任何事情都更重要的是，勝利後的精神和身體疲憊使他們的下一個項目的標準拖回了地球。 Kisekoi的第一個賽季接受了角色藝術的一致性和質量的較低門檻，眾所周知，有兩個完全外包的情節（＃03 to Traumerei Animation Studio和＃07 to Lapin Track）。這是一個堅實的作品，但也是阻止的定義。鑑於這種情況，可以理解的是。
偶爾的馬林拍攝的另一個原因超過了大多數其他所有事物，以及我們較早提出感知想法的原因是，該系列董事導演導演:（（監督，坎托克）:負責整個製作人的人，既有創造性的決策者又是最終的主管。他們超越了其餘的員工，並最終擁有最後一句話。但是，確實存在與不同級別的導演的系列-首席總監，助理主任，系列劇集總監，各種非標準角色。在這些情況下，層次結構是一個情況下的情況。 Shinohara本質上並不顯眼。第一個賽季的開始已經足以說明，即使他正在使用誇張，他以這樣一個計算的方式做到這一點，以使他令人信服地交付給您以令人信服的態度。通過技巧和機智，他利用自己作為導演的立場來保護觀眾的沉浸式免受破碎。他可能不是一個嚴格的現實主義者，但他擁有一種基礎的視野，迫使他以您展現真實的燈光的方式描繪了象徵性的聚光燈。儘管他從來沒有拋棄原始作品的幽默感，但第一個季節的其他劇集導演更表面上講。尤其是那時，Shinohara很樂意以一種透明的感覺。在人和主題的刻畫中真實，將技巧留給了他人。
在第一個季節時，＃11之類的情節提供了Shinohara更自然地厭惡的摩擦類型；繼某個導演的領導下，後來被置於續集的最前沿之後，它顯示了一個奇特的kisekoi，願意與角色的諷刺性扮演 Yusuke kawakami 領導的第八集。早期，一個由 kerorira 動畫動畫的冗長場景鍵展示了我們否則我們只在第1季期間在辛辣的場景中看到的具有魅力的描述的類型。當您進一步冒險進入情節時，對較舊的魔法女孩系列的描繪使人們對酷炫的理念進行了讓步，以實現對酷酷的態度的真實性。 A much more palpable sense of atmosphere than what you encounter across the rest of the show oscillates between dread and vulnerability when a character opens up to Gojo, then shifts just as quickly to hilarious visual hijinks.
In與Shinohara的不起眼形成鮮明對比的是Kawakami的StoryboardStoryboard（絵コンテ，Ekonte）:動畫的藍圖。一系列通常簡單的圖紙用作動漫的視覺腳本，並在特殊的紙上繪製，其中包括動畫剪切編號的字段，工作人員的筆記和對話的匹配行。更多的是自豪地阻止您進入軌道的類型。有一種共同的優雅感，可以在該系列導演的框架中存在，但是執行更加誇張和公開。除了明顯的反思和神奇的女孩服裝的明顯重疊，Juju對自己的身份和夢想的突破不可能。在海灘上與Marin和Gojo一起的整個最後一部分是對第一的空靈刻畫。在海灘上的初戀，首次郊遊，您第一次受到海鷗的尊重，因為即使是那些超凡脫俗的kawakami，它仍然很愚蠢，而團隊的其餘成員也授予了它。這一集的特點是，在山峰往往會以一種奇異的風味的季節中，
不可否認的是，像川卡米（Kawakami）和shinohara穩定的穩定的手之間有根本的區別。系列董事主任:（監督，坎托克）:負責整個製作的人，無論是作為創意決策者還是最終主管。他們超越了其餘的員工，並最終擁有最後一句話。但是，確實存在與不同級別的導演的系列-首席總監，助理主任，系列劇集總監，各種非標準角色。在這些情況下，層次結構是一個情況下的情況。他本人已經提到了這一點，正如2025年9月Newtype在Newtype上進行的眾多訪談中所看到的。鑑於他周到但最終有點安靜的風格，Shinohara謙卑地否認了他更具魅力的同齡人的類型。儘管在這個行業中有一種模式，磁性與艷麗的魅力相關，但Shinohara恰好是錯誤的-就像那些更公開享譽的明星在新聞中出現時，他的名字念著他的名字，以一種有趣的方式表示讚賞。它可能不會以同樣的方式脫穎而出，但是與他一起工作的人非常感謝Shinohara的技術精確度。而且，如果他將被安置在一個更有利的環境中，他的經驗也有更多的經驗，那麼他可以以同樣多的熱情贏得觀眾。他的偉大可能比與那些更公開的明星導演更棘手，但他的魅力並不是。
，因此，提示Kisekoi第2季，該項目使Shinohara能夠辜負這種潛在的潛力。
，如果您會因本質上的每個領域而感到驚訝，那麼您就會感到驚訝，您就可以在每個領域中得到正確的想法。除非罕見的員工替代品，否則續集的自然結果越自然，就是開始一個輕微的下降趨勢。卡片中保持其原始水平甚至略有改進，但比妄想的調情更有希望。簡而言之，最初的項目是最強勁的投資和更有力的團隊的代名詞。畢竟，熟練的員工的長期承諾是最棘手的確保，而且從本質上講，續集帶有已經有安全的粉絲群，或者是該系列並不是一個受歡迎的確定性。好像沒有第二個賽季更強大，更具吸引力的作品的例子，但是您當然不能在生產部門中大量升級。我們已經提到了一些出現的原因。值得記住的是，這只是Shinohara在系列方向上的第四次嘗試，並且前兩個實例恰好是 Black Fox （他是忙碌的 kazuya nomura ）加上 a3 a3 a3 的he
直接跳入第2季的第一集，這意味著官方編號後的Kisekoi＃13＃13，展示了這些實質性改進。 Shinohara從來沒有擺脫傾向，但是正如他在上述Newtype採訪中所解釋的那樣，他想擴大表達範圍。在他看來，偶爾的客觀現實背叛使觀眾和創作者都變得更加有趣。他以新的心態（以及第2季的團隊中特定關鍵成員的合作）出發前往StoryboardStoryboard（絵コンテ，Ekonte）:動畫的藍圖。一系列通常簡單的圖紙用作動漫的視覺腳本，並在特殊的紙上繪製，其中包括動畫剪切編號的字段，工作人員的筆記和對話的匹配行。
如果您打算評估Shinohara，則更多並將此引入該系列的重新引入。
劇集結束時的出色場景可能是他這次有能力的最好例子。在他被拖入的萬聖節派對上的外向派對中，Gojo被迫面對自己的不安全感。他真的屬於他們嗎?實際上，當他的利益不符合性別規範時，他是否屬於任何地方? 當我們深入研究他的心理時，這些擔憂是通過精確的定時文本傳遞的，表現出了他通常的技術卓越性，但也增加了吸引力的願望。 Shinohara在這一新的挑戰中取得了成功，即喚起比現場的物質現實更大的事物，與此同時，仍然以有趣的方式在其環境的範圍內發揮作用。畢竟，整個場景持續了幾分鐘，因為您可以聽到每個人都喜歡的諾瓦演唱（而不是野蠻的）。因此，在從Gojo的恐懼轉變為一種令人愉悅的接受感之後，這首歌的高潮使她立即透露了一個有趣的公開問題，即兩個線索是否約會。祝福你，祝福你，祝福你什諾哈拉。
80在卡拉OK場景周圍砍伐，包括幾乎所有的nowa露面。這不是偶然的:他盡可能地將自己最喜歡的角色引起了Dibs，甚至將他的職責擴大到了演出本身之外。團隊允許他繪製 extra 插圖在第2季中，陪伴著瓦瓦（Nowa）的搖滾歌曲（為什麼她的品味如此之大?），以至於原始作者對他非常專注的努力進行了努力。因此，隨著季節的結束，她在oshikatsu模式下drewea drewa drewa in oshikatsu mode…超越了真正的動畫師sekegawa ，他們可以預測他的想法，這是他的想法。另外，當我們談論上述剪輯時，列出的名稱和年齡的方式肯定會讓人想起標誌性的FLCL場景。我懷疑某些助理系列導演提出了這個細節。
就像劇集的結尾非常好一樣，開始也是如此。首先，這種結構是通過適應的重大舉動。第二季的大部分早期階段都建立在原始資料流的微小轉變之上，我相信他們取得了成功。在第一集的情況下，要歡迎我們回來，這些東西封裝了基什科伊的魅力，而不是繼續彷彿沒有發生任何休息。因此，就像偶爾的前身一樣，第2季以一個荒謬的有趣類型由 kai Ikai ikai ikai ikarashi One the Bidse（bid）， Bijutsu Kantoku）:該系列的背景藝術負責人。他們繪製了許多由該系列總監批准的藝術板，可作為整個系列背景的參考。藝術部門內的協調是必須的-設置和顏色設計師必須共同努力製作一個連貫的世界。 Ryo Konno。
隨著該系列的範圍的範圍，這些有趣的窺視也在其宇宙小說中。它們涵蓋了Otaku地圖的更多角落，並變得更加充實，尤其是在適應的情況下，它比漫畫中的瞥見更遠地想像它們。遵循Ikarashi的筆，這件筆變得更加……一切。更多的。從本質上講，這就是Shinohara談論他的朋友Ikarashi的方式:您可以信任的人不僅要獲得您的故事板的暗示，而且誰會通過進一步擴展它來超越您。 Tsucom是一個艱難而愚蠢的系列，應該讓您走該死，這很有趣，這就是ikarashi的工作，這就是奇異的一幕，
是其他人將其清理成適當的故事板故事板（絵コンテ，ekonte）:動畫的藍圖。一系列通常簡單的圖紙用作動漫的視覺腳本，並在特殊的紙上繪製，其中包括動畫剪切編號的字段，工作人員的筆記和對話的匹配行。更多的。同一個人在整個賽季中都給了他想法，可以說是Kisekoi語氣變化的主要罪魁禍首。終於是時候談論粉絲最喜歡的 Yuusuke“ Nara” Yamamoto ，他在他在新近擔任的助理系列董事董事主任的角色中採取了積極主動的立場:（監督，Kantoku）:負責整個作品的人，都是作為創意決策者和最終主管。他們超越了其餘的員工，並最終擁有最後一句話。但是，確實存在與不同級別的導演的系列-首席總監，助理主任，系列劇集總監，各種非標準角色。正如他在Newtype採訪中指出的那樣，他與他的好朋友和主要動畫師 naoya takahashi 在紐特普（Newtype）採訪中指出，該角色的範圍和具體情況因環境和給定的項目而異，該角色的範圍和細節在很大程度上變化了。在這種情況下，奈良的影響力通常只有通常只有項目負責人的方式。早在劇本會議上就永遠存在，並參與了他沒有明確稱讚的情節的選擇。授予任何很多參與的人都應該產生效果，更不用說一個像奈良一樣大膽的個性的創造者。
在這次採訪中，高橋強調了奈良作為導演的素質，是他背景的獨特性。我在很大程度上同意他的觀點，即每當出色的角色動畫師轉變為導演角色時，他們傾向於將很多重點放在鏡頭的美麗和技術聲音，表演的真實性以及故事板的機械流程上。這些當然是積極的品質，也是奈良並沒有真正失去的一面。不過，在轉變角色的過程中，他已經成為一名藝術家，這在娛樂觀眾和將他們帶來驚訝的簡單想法上投入了更多的投資。這是 Bocchi搖滾的粉絲們真正欣賞的，因為他在第一季的情節是已經是一部古怪喜劇的正統賽中最不正約的。但是，值得注意的是，奈良事先表現出了多種材料的渴望（
While there always was overlap between these projects as two series handled by Umehara’s gang, the way that its personnel and comedic edge took over Kisekoi S2 speaks for itself… as does the fact that Bocchi’s designer Kerorira went from an occasional animator to earning the position of Team 支持。根據Umehara的說法，這種信用旨在反映他目前的地位，因為他超越了工作室內的項目。簡而言之，他是一個可靠的數字，其決策和溝通能力可以隨時幫助，除了他的能力。
在Kisekoi S2方面，更明顯的工作量等於單獨的動畫開放，為他們的inniverse遊戲帶來了一個單獨的動畫開放，並為他們的in-universe遊戲提供了幫助，並在整體上進行了動畫，這些動畫效果是，這些動畫效果:這些動畫效果（這些動畫），這些動畫效果（這些動畫）既是這些動畫效果，又是這些動畫效果。動畫中的關鍵時刻，基本上定義了運動，而無需實際完成切割。動漫行業以允許這些個人藝術家的大量空間來表達自己的風格而聞名。預訂季節。在第一集中，最引人注目的是序列，一個相當混亂的馬林通過讓她的想像力太鬆散而經歷了情感過山車。幾乎就像Kerorira無休止地動畫了一個粉紅色的生物，他在常規上經歷了這種粉紅色的生物。大聲喊叫最後一次切割，當其他所有人的怪異行為都恰恰相反，有機背景動畫擊中了窗戶。 Shinohara-ish-sish精度在有能力的動畫手中！
對於像他這樣的藝術家脫穎而出，重要的是要確定生產價值的巨大增長是無所不包的，超越了任何個人。同樣，與前任相比，這與第2季的產量緊密相關。儘管我們不能低估Cloverworks處於過度生產狀態的事實，尤其是當工作室試圖將其作為積極的鑑於其獲得的結果時，也不可否認的是，基礎架構有明顯的改善。他們的員工培訓（有時是積極進取的偷獵）幫助建立了一支研究者，準備更好的團隊。支持韋普留下的紮實的基礎，而不是在韋普留下的火山口內，但支撐很強。
，儘管它是由克羅里拉（Kerorira）獨奏的鑰匙，但開幕式是由Yuki Yonemori執導的和故事板。儘管我相信序列的核心是他對物理材料沒有lullaby ，我肯定有人像Worldwide Animation一樣，Yonemori曾經看過很多時。我相信，他們的處理方式是變革性的，並且是一個尊重的點頭，儘管如果人們大喊了原始團隊，那會更好。鑑於關於明確提及其他作品的不言而喻的規則，這一想法可能是遺憾的。
不過，不要誤會我的意思:Kisekoi S2是獨特的成功。儘管我相信Bocchi有趣的創造力將其推向了Umehara作品的最高版本，但有一個論點是關於精心的精確度（與生動的執行不一致）的爭論，這使Kisekoi S2的大部分S2都使它成為了這支球隊最出色的作品。 Shinohara本人認為諸如第2季首映之類的情節標準是電視的過度。他不僅意味著最明顯的方面，例如細節和角色藝術的光澤，甚至是動畫的表達程度，而且是內在和繪畫的奢華。在早期情節上花費的漫長時間肯定會有所幫助，儘管導演還指出，高技術技能的基線大大減少了重演的需求，從而使這種野心可行。也許，描述他們成功的最佳方法是感覺就像是一個非常細微的調諧季節。就像他透露的那樣，該秘密存在的一部分是一支如此出色的團隊，以至於他們第一次嘗試了許多事情。
，精巧的人延續到了本賽季的第二集，否則這使得這是一個明顯的音調搖擺。您需要掌握的要點之一，以欣賞Kisekoi季節之間的風味變化的明顯變化是，Nara真正到處都是，與系列導演導演一起標記:（監督，Kantoku）:負責整個製作的人，無論是創造性的決策者還是最終的主管。他們超越了其餘的員工，並最終擁有最後一句話。但是，確實存在與不同級別的導演的系列-首席總監，助理主任，系列劇集總監，各種非標準角色。在這些情況下，層次結構是一個情況下的情況。誰很樂意吸收他的想法。然而，就像大氣中氧氣的濃度一樣，偏離導演顆粒的密度也會波動（真正的科學概念）。當然，在奈良親自執行和故事板的情節中，這些往往是最高的，這意味著＃14，＃19和＃23。重新調整需要將兩個不同的故事錄製在一起，但是奈良的交付如此有信心，以至於您並沒有感覺到它背後沒有明確的視野。當然，我們從romcom的延續中轉換出關於它們是否約會到角色扮演和以性別為中心的情節線，但是兩者都是通過類似折衷的樣式組合來交付的。
nara始終願意從Kisekoi的地面正常態到
href=”https://bsky.app/profile/yuyucow.bsky.social/post/3ltrykeriyk2t”>his reminders that animation is composed of assets he can play around with
Since we talked about the opening sequence, we ought to introduce the ending as well. The closing sequence by VIVINOS is very reminiscent of their Pink Bitch Club series, taking Marin’s crush and her interest in fashion as an excuse to turn her into a bit of a menhera menace.
If we stop and appreciate the once again excellent animation, we can find plenty of examples of seemingly uncanny combinations of ideas leading to a richer outcome. With a director as quick to embrace cartoony aesthetics, you could assume that’s the route it’ll head in whenever there are comedic needs, but Nara successfully guides the team to get mileage out of less common approaches. Like, for example, ever so slightly dialing up the realism to make a sequence more amusing. As an embarrassed Marin storms away from Gojo, the level of lifelike detail in which the folds of his disguise are depicted—a bit exaggerated but not so much that they become a caricature—makes him look much creepier and thus funnier in this 語境。 Even when the application of a style is more orthodox, the ability to alternate between them will keep you constantly engaged. After all, the same visit to a sick Marin can have outstanding examples of precision in animation and inherently funny betrayals of space. In a season with many outrageous visual tricks, even the seemingly more standard sequences can be inherently fun to look at.
One detail we’ve neglected to mention is that all those scenes arrived by the hand of the aforementioned main animator, Naoya Takahashi. Speaking to Newtype, he simplified the evolution of his role as going from a tactically deployed weapon across important moments in the first season, to handling large chunks at a time for the sequel. This is not to say that he no longer handled climactic moments, since we’re talking about an animator with a hand in the very last scene of the season. However, it’s true that he halved his appearances so take he could take over many cuts whenever he showed up as either key animator or supervisor.
Applied to episode #14, that meant drawing key animationKey Animation (原畫, genga): These artists draw the pivotal moments within the animation, basically defining the motion without actually completing the cut. The anime industry is known for allowing these individual artists lots of room to express their own style. for virtually every single shot in the first half; the only small exceptions being Odashi and the regular Yohei Yaegashi making cute guest appearances, in rather different ways. Nara is particularly effusive about Takahashi’s mindset, as an animator whose interests are tickled by seemingly troublesome cuts that he’ll complicate even further, but it’s worth noting that the entire second half received the same holistic treatment by Maring Song. Given that its animation demands are just as diverse, the challenge couldn’t have been any easier.
Even with those assistants and the help of a solid lineup of 2nd key animators, having the episode’s two animation directors penning every single cut in the first place is quite the ask. And keep it in mind: it was an ask, not a spur-of-the-moment happening but a foundational idea in planning Kisekoi S2. Those Newtype features confirm as much, saying it was an episode conceived to be animated by a small team. While this one is noteworthy in how far they went with it, the desire to keep animation teams small is a defining trait of Umehara’s production line in recent times. From a creative standpoint, there’s an obvious reason to chase that goal: the natural sense of cohesion and full realization of a better-defined vision that you can get out of small teams. And from a management level, the idea that you may be able to offload this large a workload to just a few people—at least for certain tasks—is a dream come true.
While it’s positive that viewers have started paying attention to the composition of teams (who is part of them, their size, roles, etc), many are a bit too quick to assume that seeing fewer animators credited is immediately a sign of a healthier, straight-up superior production. Instead, they should be asking themselves if such a team was a natural fit for the production circumstances, and whether the level of ambition and quality standards match their possibilities.
Circling back to Kisekoi S2, then, we can say that episodes like this manage to maintain—and occasionally even raise—the project’s already impressive technical floor despite the small team. And what about the larger picture? Did this approach eventually push the production off the rails? Although things got tighter by the end, we can now say that it weathered the storm without requiring the level of unthinkable individual feats that protected the likes of Bocchi. In that regard, it’s worth noting that Kisekoi S2 showed an interesting level of restraint. Small teams of animators, but never as far as this one episode. A mere two episodes with a singular animation director, instead opting for duos as its default. Part of this comes down to the improvement of CloverWorks’ infrastructure (not to be confused with their planning) that we talked about earlier, but it’s also about that evolution in Umehara’s mindset; away from his most aggressive tendencies, less allergic to the concept of compromising, and instead interested in finding ways to minimize the negative effects from that.
It’s another one of Umehara’s favorite weapons that takes over the show with the next episode: character animation ace Tomoki Yoshikawa, who makes his debut as storyboarder and episode director. If his peers viewed Nara as a very entertaining aberration, Yoshikawa embodies straightforward excellence in his breed. As an animator, Yoshikawa’s work feels performed in a way that few artists’ do; so specific in its posing and demeanor that you feel as if the characters were actors who’d just been briefed by the director. And now that he genuinely occupies that position, you get that philosophy applied to an entire episode—often through his own redraws. The way people interact with objects and people’s gestures constantly stand out as deliberate. The way he accomplishes it makes his ostentatious brand of realism not particularly naturalistic, but its technical greatness and sufficient characterfulness justify its braggadocio air. Perhaps this is the horseshoe he shares with Nara: one, a director so imaginative that he gets away with making the artifice painfully obvious, the other, an animator so good at articulating characters that he’s happy with showing you the strings with which he puppeteers them.
Despite yet another charismatic lead artist having a visible impact, Kisekoi S2’s overarching identity is too strong to ever disappear. Instead, what happens is that the two tendencies tend to mix with each other. Yoshikawa’s deliberate acting doesn’t risk coming across as too clinical and serious, as his precise posing occasionally becomes a source of humor as well; for an obvious example, a binoculars-like shot is followed up by the type of silly pose that Marin is likely to adopt when her nerdy side takes over. The switches to blatantly cartoony animation can occur without ditching the calculated staging, and for that matter, without ditching Yoshikawa’s pen either—he personally key animated some of them as well.
The real highlight of the episode, though, is in Amane’s backstory. At this point, it should be obvious that Yoshikawa is more than a cold, technically proficient animation machine. He once again shows that much with a stunning flashback focused on the main duo’s new friend and his encounter with crossplay, which helped him forge an identity he’s finally comfortable with. Through some of the most ethereal drawings in the entire show (many by Yoshikawa himself), we witness his first experiences with makeup, wigs, and dresses. We see neither his face nor reflection, but it quickly becomes obvious that it’s because his past, regular self was one that he’d never been comfortable with. It’s impossible not to feel the contrast with his current persona, highlighted by all the cuts to the present clearly showing a happy face after so much obscuration of his expressions. The Amane of right now, the person cosplaying a female character while hanging out with Marin and Gojo, is the self that he loves and proudly projects outward.
This type of conflict is by no means new to Kisekoi. After all, Gojo’s own insecurities are also rooted in traumatic rejection over his gendered interests; and of course, Marin being a widely beloved, popular girl with some very male-coded hobbies is the flipside to his situation. Up until now, though, none of those situations had been presented in such striking fashion. If we add to that the way that Kisekoi’s exploration of otaku spaces widens—and this is only the beginning—the message of acceptance that had always been attached to the series starts feeling more meaningful.
The following episode ventures further in that regard. Although it’s the first chance for the production to take a bit of a breather, one aspect took a lot of work and it very much shows: the depiction of PrezHost. As is the norm with this season, an in-universe work briefly depicted in the manga becomes a fully fledged production effort within its anime adaptation. The beautiful designs by WEP’s Saki Takahashi and the evocative compositions it dashes out when necessary sell the appeal of the series, though it’s the concept itself that feels most important.
Even though Kisekoi rejects conforming to the preconceptions about what individuals ought to enjoy according to their age or gender, constantly doing so while only ever portraying danseimuke fiction (or types of work otherwise largely tolerated by men) would make its plea for acceptance ring rather hollow. This makes their fancy depiction of a shoujo manga turned popular live-action drama such a great choice, because it feels like it understands what teenage girls and families alike—including some boys, awkward about it they are—would get really into. I have to admit that, given the extremely obvious Ouran vibes of this fake series, I’d have loved to see much more overt mimicry of Takuya Igarashi’s direction; at best, Mamoru Kurosawa’s storyboardStoryboard (絵コンテ, ekonte): The blueprints of animation. A series of usually simple drawings serving as anime’s visual script, drawn on special sheets with fields for the animation cut number, notes for the staff and the matching lines of dialogue. More and its SHAFT flavor merely evoke vibes that feel like a distant stylistic cousin. That said, beautiful animation dedicated to something that strengthens your whole series’ message is hardly a reason to complain.
Between WEP’s early moments of excellence and his work across the 22/7 short films, Wakabayashi earned himself a reputation as a breathtaking director, the type that invites you into ethereal spaces where mundanity feels divine. Mind you, there is still plenty of room for delicacy and elegance across his boards here. Within an arc that strongly emphasizes collective work and the reliance on everyone’s specific skills, episode #17 allows the fundamentally subdued animation to do the talking; Gojo’s expert movements contrast with Marin’s well-meaning flubs, yet she’s the one who irradiates confidence with her body motion when she’s in her field. The intricacies of seemingly mundane animation tell us a lot, just by swinging from one of Marin’s beastly lunches to Gojo’s delicate eating as drawn by Shinnosuke Ota. Even that otherworldly vibe of Wakabayashi’s direction is channeled through the depiction of light, dyeing the profiles of the lead characters when they’re at their coolest and most reflective.
However, those are merely the gifts that you’ll find hidden within the bushes—or rather, in a very exuberant, colorful jungle. Wakabayashi and episode director Yuichiro Komuro, an acquaintance from WEP who already did solid work in Kisekoi S1, meet this sequel on its own terms. Stronger comedic edge, but also the incorporation of different genres we hadn’t explored before? Playful emphasis on the farcicality of animation assets, as well as a much higher diversity of materials? If that is the game we’re playing now, Wakabayashi will happily join everyone else. And by join, I mean perhaps best them all, with a single scene where Marin squeals about her crush being more densely packed than entire episodes; horror buildup, an imaginative TV set, slick paneling that breaks dimensions and media altogether, and here’s a cute shift in drawing style as a final reward. Wakabayashi may be playing under someone else’s rules, but he’s far from meek in the process. Episode #17 is out and proud about being directed, with more proactive camerawork than some hectic action anime and noticeable transitions with a tangible link to the narrative.
For as much as episodes like this rely on the brilliance of a special director, though, this level of success is only possible in the right environment. This is made clear by one of the quirkiest sequences: the puppet show used for an educational corner about hina dolls. The genesis is within Wakabayashi’s storyboards, but the development into such a joyful, involved process relied on countless other people being just as proactive. For starters, the animation producer who asked about whether that sequence would be drawn or performed in real life, then immediately considered the possibility of the latter when Wakabayashi said it could be fun. There’s Umehara himself, who’d been watching a documentary about puppeteer Haruka Yamada and pitched her name. The process this escalated into involved all sorts of specialists from that field, plus some renowned anime figures; no one better than Bocchi’s director Keiichiro Saito to nail the designs, as dolls are an interest of his and he has lots of experience turning anime characters into amusing real props. Even if you secure a unique talent like Wakabayashi, you can’t take for granted the willingness to go this far, the knowledge about various fields, and of course the time and resources required for these side quests.
And yet, it’s that emphasis on clinical forms of animation that also makes it feel somewhat dispassionate—especially after the playfulness of Wakabayashi’s episode. The delivery is so fancy that it easily passes any coolness test, and it certainly has nuggets of characters as well; watching the shift in Marin’s demeanor when she’s performing makes for a very literal, great example of character acting in animation. But rather than leaning into the fun spirit of a school festival, the direction feels very quiet and subservient to an artist who can lean towards the mechanical. It’s worth noting that the most evocative shots in the entire episode, which break free from its cold restraint, come by the hand of Yusuke Kawakami. Those blues are a reminder of the way he already stole the show once, with that delightful eighth episode of the first season.
Kisekoi S2 is certainly not the type of show to dwell in impassionate technicality for too long, so it immediately takes a swing with another fun episode captained by Nara. A leadership that this time around doesn’t merely involve storyboarding and direction, but even writing the script as well. Given that the animation director is Keito Oda, it ends up becoming quite the preview for the second season of Bocchi that they’re meant to lead together. His touch can be felt through the spacious layoutsLayouts (レイアウト): The drawings where animation is actually born; they expand the usually simple visual ideas from the storyboard into the actual skeleton of animation, detailing both the work of the key animator and the background artists. and the character art itself, with scenes like the one at the karaoke feeling particularly familiar. A noticeably softer feel within a series where the designs normally lean in sharper directions.
Even though Nara mostly plays with regular tools for this episode, the same eclecticism we’ve been praising so far is all over the episode. At no point can you be sure about which technique, palette, and type of stylization he’s going to deploy when depicting Marin’s struggles. This helps spice up an episode that is otherwise a simple breather. Weight gain scenarios in anime rarely lead to a fun time; you don’t have to start considering whether they’re problematic or not to realize that they’re formulaic and repetitive. However, within a show where bodies are meaningfully explored and thanks to Nara’s amusing resourcefulness, it becomes yet another entertaining episode.
Additionally, there is a reason why we said that the director mostly uses regular tools in episode #19. The highlight is a sequence built upon a 3D scan of a real park, in a process that took 9 months to complete. Although there are technical points of friction like Marin’s lack of a projected shadow, this was a tremendous amount of effort applied to a fundamentally compelling idea. Within regular comics, a sudden switch to a series of identical panel shapes feels unnatural. In the context of a series about cosplay, that’s enough to tell that someone is taking photos. But what about anime (and more broadly, film) where the aspect ratio is consistent? A solution can be to reimagine the whole sequence as a combination of behind-the-camera POV and snapshots that don’t reject the continuity.
While on the surface it might seem like a more modest showing, episode #20 is—in conjunction with the next one—a defining moment of Kisekoi S2. Director and storyboarder Yuuki Gotou is still a bit of a rookie in this field, but may prove to be one of the best scouting moves for the team. Alongside the small changes in the script, the direction toys with the themes of the series in a way that casually solidifies the entire cast. Gojo and Marin attend a cosplay event and come across acquaintances, including multiple friend-of-a-friend scenarios. Those involve someone who, in the manga, is merely mentioned as having been too busy to attend. In the end, we don’t know much about her, and she doesn’t even register as a person. What does Gotou’s episode do, though? It transforms the manga’s plain infodumping about cosplay culture into a fake program that stars her as the host, which makes the eventual reveal that she couldn’t show up more amusing and meaningful; now she actually is a person, albeit a pitiful one. The delivery of the episode is enhanced by similar small choices, in a way that is best appreciated if you check it out alongside the source material.
The immediate continuity in the events links that episode to #21, which also underlines the essence of season 2’s success. I’m sure we’ve all witnessed discourse about anime’s self-indulgent focus on otaku culture at some point. The very idea of acknowledging its own quirks and customs is framed as an ontological evil, though really, those complaints amount to little more than cheap shots at easy targets that people can frame as progressive, refined stances. Were they truly that thoughtful about cartoons, people would realize that such anime’s common failing isn’t the awareness and interest in its surrounding culture—it’s the exact opposite. Anime isn’t obsessed with otaku, but rather with going through familiar motions and myopically misrepresenting a culture that is much broader than we often see. Every late-night show that winks at a male audience about tropes they’ll recognize is blissfully unaware of the history of entire genres and demographics; and for that matter, about the ones that it’s supposed to know as well, given how many gamified Narou fantasies fundamentally don’t understand videogames.
Due to Marin’s choices of cosplay and the unbalanced presentation of the first season, Kisekoi risked leaning a bit in that direction as well. But with a series that genuinely wants to engage with the culture it explores, and a team willing to push its ideas even further, that simply couldn’t come to pass. The most amusing example of this across two episodes is Marin’s cosplay friends, as women who feel representative of distinct attitudes seen in female otaku spaces. From the resonant ways in which proactive fandom is linked to creative acts to the jokes they make, there’s something palpably authentic about it. Nerdy women don’t morph into vague fujoshi jokes, but instead showcase highly specific behaviors like seeing eroticism in sports manga that read completely safe to people whose brains aren’t wired the same way. Kisekoi S2 gets a lot of humor out of their exaggerated antics—both #20 and #21 are a riot about this—but these are just one step removed from real nerds you wouldn’t find in many anime that claim to have otaku cred.
This exploration continues with the type of fictional works that motivate their next cosplay projects. Just like PrezHost felt like a spot-on choice for a group of regular teenagers, an indie horror game like Corpse is perfect for this nerdier demographic of young adults and students; if you wanted to maximize the authenticity, it should have been a clone of Identity V as that was a phenomenon among young women, but their slight departure still becomes a believable passion for this group. And most importantly, it looks stunning. Following the trend you’ve heard about over and over, a loosely depicted in-universe game becomes a fully-fledged production effort led by specialists—in this case, pixel artist narume. It’s quite a shame that, no matter how many times I try to access the website they made for the game, it doesn’t become something I can actually play.
The purposeful direction of Haruka Tsuzuki in episode #21 makes it a compelling experience, even beyond its thematic success. Though in a way, its most brilliant scene is still tied to that—Marin’s subjectivity being so clearly depicted is one of the ways in which Kisekoi pushes back against common failings of the genre, after all. When she misunderstands what Gojo is buying, diegetic green lights flash green, like a traffic light signaling his resolve to go ahead. Marin’s panic over the idea of getting physically intimate coincides not just with a camera switch to show an adults-only zone of the store nearby, but also with the lights turning red. She doesn’t exactly feel ready… but the more she thinks about it, the lights switch to pink. If I have to explain what this one means, please go ask your parents instead.
Season 2 thrives because of this broader, deeper depiction of cosplay as an extension of otaku culture. As we mentioned earlier, it makes the message of acceptance feel like it carries much more weight; with a palpable interest in more diverse groups of people, the words of encouragement about finding your passions regardless of what society expects you to do have a stronger impact. Since the preceding season faltered by focusing on arcs where these ideas were still raw, while also introducing biased framing of its own, there’s a temptation to claim that Kisekoi S2 is superior because it stuck to the source material even more. And let’s make it clear: no, it did not. At least, not in those absolute terms.
There is an argument to be made that it better captures the fully-developed philosophy of the source material; the argument is, in fact, this entire write-up. That said, much of our focus has also been on how Shinohara’s desire to increase the expressivity and the arrival of Nara have shifted the whole show toward comedy. Kisekoi has always had a sense of humor, but there’s no denying that this season dials up that aspect way beyond the source material. That has been, as a whole, part of the recipe behind such an excellent season.
And yet, we should also consider the (admittedly rare) occasions where it introduces some friction. If we look back at episode #20, one of the highlights in Gotou’s direction is the goofy first meeting between Akira and Marin. Since we’re taking a retrospective look after the end of the broadcast, there’s no need to hide the truth: Akira has a tremendous crush on her. However, their entire arc is built upon everyone’s assumption that she hates Marin, as she gets tense and quiet whenever they’re together. The manga achieves this through vaguely ominous depictions of Akira, which would normally be read as animosity but still leaves room for the final punchline. The adaptation mostly attempts to do the same… except their first meeting is so comedic, so obvious in the falling-in-love angle, that it’s impossible to buy into the misdirection. Every now and then, it’s in fact possible to be too funny for your own good.
If we’re talking about the relative weaknesses of the season, episode #22 is a good reminder that outrunning the scheduling demons—especially if you enjoy taking up creative strolls to the side—is hard even for blessed projects. Conceptually, it’s as solid as ever. Marin’s sense of personhood remains central to everything, with her own struggles with love and sexuality being as carefully developed (if not more) than anything pertaining to Gojo. Being treated to another showcase of Corpse’s beautiful style is worth the price of admission, and you can once again tell that Fukuda understands nerds as she writes them salivating over newcomers’ opinions on their faves. It is, though, a somewhat rougher animation effort despite all the superstars in various positions of support. While the decline in quality is only relative to the high standards of Kisekoi S2, seeing what caliber of artist it took to accomplish an acceptable result speaks volumes about how tight things got.
Thanks to the small structural changes to the adaptation, this episode is able to reinforce the parallels between Akira’s situation and the world’s most beloved cosplayer Juju-sama (sentence collectively written by Marin and her sister). Sure, Juju’s got a supportive family and has been able to chase her dreams since an earlier age, but there have always been hints that she holds back somewhat. As a cosplayer with utmost respect for the characters, she never dared to attempt outfits where her body type didn’t directly match that of the original. This is why we see similar framing as that of a student Akira, feeling cornered before she stumbled upon a space to be herself. Nara may be an outrageous director, as proven by how quickly he unleashes paper cutout puppets again, but you can see his a subtler type of cheekiness in his storyboards as well; cutting to Juju’s shoes with massive platforms during a conversation about overcoming body types is the type of choice that will make you smile if you notice it.
On top of that thematic tightness and meaningful direction, episode #23 is also an amazing showcase of animation prowess. Separating these aspects doesn’t feel right in the first place; the compelling ideas rely on the author’s knowledge about the specifics of cosplay, which are then delivered through extremely thorough and careful animation. The likes of Odashi and Yuka Yoshikawa shine the best in that regard, though it’s worth noting that the entire episode is brimming with high-quality animation—and most importantly, with respect for the process of creating things as an expression of identity. Be it the Kobayashi-like acting as Juju storms out during a pivotal conversation about that, or a familiar representation of cosplay as a means to reach seemingly impossible goals by Hirotaka Kato, you can never dissociate the episode’s beautiful art from its belief that making things can allow us to be our real selves.
Again, it’s no secret that an episode like #23 was produced under strict time constraints; perhaps not in absolute terms, but very much so when you consider its level of ambition. In the context of not just this series but the production line we’ve been talking about all along, what’s interesting isn’t the achievement itself, but how it relates to an evolution we’ve observed before. Umehara’s more considered stance and CloverWorks’ improving infrastructure have been recurring themes, but there’s been one key piece of information relating to both that we’ve been keeping a secret. For as much as we’ve referred to this team as Umehara’s gang, which it very much is, you may have noticed that earlier we talked about a separate animation producer—the position that Umehara held in previous projects. So, what happened here?
As he has alluded to on Twitter but more extensively talked about in his Newtype interview, Umehara is not just aware of CloverWorks’ changes, but also quite hopeful about its up-and-coming management personnel. In his view, most of them are just one piece of advice away from figuring out the tricks to create excellent work. And yet, being the animation producer, he tends to be too far from the trenches for those less experienced members to come to him for advice… unless things have gotten really dire. That is, to some degree, simply not true; Umehara is too emotionally invested in the creative process to separate himself from it, no matter what his position at the company is. However, it’s correct that production assistants are more likely to go to their immediate superior rather than someone two steps above when they’ve simply got some doubts. And thus, Umehara has been the production desk for Kisekoi S2, whereas Shou Someno has replaced him in the producer chair.
The first-hand advice Umehara has been able to give will surely be meaningful for the careers of multiple production assistants. And just as importantly, Kisekoi S2 has been an excellent lesson for him. Right after the broadcast of episode #23, and even acknowledging the lack of time, Umehara expressed his delight about what the team had accomplished for the one episode where he was not at all involved in the management process. That future he dreamed of, where the quality of his production line’s output could be maintained without his constant presence, has finally come. Chances are that it could have come faster and less painfully if he hadn’t been so afraid of delegation before, if this team’s well-meaning passion had been channeled in more reasonable ways. Whatever the case, this feels like a positive change if we intend to balance excellent quality with healthier environments… as much as you can within the regime of a studio like this, anyway.
Our final stop is an all-hands-on-deck finale, with Shinohara being assisted by multiple regulars on the team. Though they all made it to the goal with no energy to spare, the sheer concentration of exceptional artists elevates the finale to a level where most people would never notice the exhaustion. The character art retains the polish that the first season could only sniff at its best, and the animation is thoroughly entertaining once again; a special shout-out must go to Yusei Koumoto, who made the scene that precedes the reveal about Akira’s real feelings for Marin even funnier than the punchline itself.
More than anything else, though, the finale shines by reaping the rewards of all the great creative choices that the season has made beforehand. In contrast to the manga, where Corpse was drawn normally, having developed a distinct pixel art style for it opens up new doors for the adaptation. The classic practice of recreating iconic visuals and scenes during cosplay photoshoots is much more interesting when we’re directly contrasting two styles, each with its own quirks. The interest in the subject matter feels fully represented in an anime that has gone this far in depicting it, and in the process, likely gotten more viewers interested in cosplay and photographyPhotography (撮影, Satsuei): The marriage of elements produced by different departments into a finished picture, involving filtering to make it more harmonious. A name inherited from the past, when cameras were actually used during this process.. Perhaps, as Kisekoi believes, that might help them establish an identity they’re more comfortable with as well.
Even as someone who enjoyed the series, especially in manga form, the excellence of Kisekoi S2 has been truly shocking. I wouldn’t hesitate to call it the best, most compelling embodiment of the series’ ideas, as the lengths they went to expand on the in-universe works have fueled everything that was already excellent about Kisekoi. It helps, of course, that its series directorSeries Director: (監督, kantoku): The person in charge of the entire production, both as a creative decision-maker and final supervisor. They outrank the rest of the staff and ultimately have the last word. Series with different levels of directors do exist however – Chief Director, Assistant Director, Series Episode Director, all sorts of non-standard roles. The hierarchy in those instances is a case by case scenario. has grown alongside the production line, especially with the help of amusing Bocchi refugees. Despite a fair amount of change behind the scenes and the exploration of more complex topics, the team hasn’t forgotten they’re making a romcom—and so, that stronger animation muscle and more refined direction also focus on making the characters cuter than ever. Given that we’re sure to get a sequel that wraps up the series altogether, I can only hope we’re blessed with an adaptation this inspired again. It might not dethrone Kisekoi S2, but if it’s half as good, it’ll already be a remarkable anime.
Support us on Patreon to help us reach our new goal to sust ain the animation archive at Sakugabooru, SakugaSakuga (作畫): Technically drawing pictures but more specifically animation. Western fans have long since appropriated the word to refer to instances of particularly good animation, in the same way that a subset of Japanese fans do. Pretty integral to our sites’brand. Video on Youtube, as well as this SakugaSakuga (作畫): Technically drawing pictures but more specifically animation. Western fans have long since appropriated the word to refer to instances of particularly good animation, in the same way that a subset of Japanese fans do. Pretty integral to our sites’brand.博客。 Thanks to everyone who’s helped out so far!
