Deku and a Culture in Conflict: The End of My Hero Academia

My Hero Academia by Horikoshi Kohei is a manga that has stood out thanks to its gorgeous art, variety of memorable characters, and exploration on what it means to “do good” and “be a hero.” It ties together the popular genre of the shounen battle manga with the classic American trope of the superhero, and provides a simple but profound setup that evokes the best of both. Now, after 10 years, the series has concluded, and the reception to its ending seems to be rather mixed. While that is likely a case of “the loudest voices” in online discussion, it’s also a reflection of how MHA has long attracted a variety of readers with values that conflict a great deal.

Warning: Spoilers for the entirety of My Hero Academia

Plot and Circumstances

My Hero Academia is the story of a boy named Midoriya Izuku, also known as Deku. In a world where superhuman powers referred to “quirks” are commonplace, Deku dreams of becoming like his idol, the #1 hero All Might. Unfortunately, he discovered at a young age that he is entirely quirkless, all but dashing his hopes. But a chance encounter with All Might leads to the living legend transferring his power to Deku, making the boy the latest in a long line of individuals to carry a mysterious power called “One for All.” This sets Deku on a path towards entering UA Academy, Japan’s most prestigious school for aspiring heroes. Over the course of the series, Deku and his friends learn the ins and outs of being a hero, but also the fact that there are profound disagreements as to what that entails.The emergence of villains, including ones with ties all the way back to All Might’s prime years, adds a thread of history that connects past to present.

So much of MHA reflects the period and circumstances in which it ran. In 2014, titans of Shounen Jump like Naruto and Bleach were in their sunset years, and these series had helped popularize massive casts of uniquely powered characters through which readers can find their own favorites. MHA is cut from this cloth, with all of Deku’s friends and teachers providing a veritable smorgasbord of possibilities. Then there’s Deku himself, with his pure heart and humble desire to help others, who was one of the vanguards of a generation of “good boy” leads. And back when the series began, the Marvel superhero movies were truly a global phenomenon; I suspect that their cultural penetration in Japan is part of why readers gave MHA a chance. 

But a lot changes over the course of a decade. The Marvel Cinematic Universe has dragged on and suffered from all the problems that plagued the overly convoluted comics. Antiheroes never fell entirely out of fashion, and there has always been a contingent of readers who see Deku as boringly naive and someone who needs to learn how dark and difficult the world actually is. His rival Bakugo, a former friend turned bully, is hotheaded and violent, and one of those characters whom certain fans saw as the real star. 

A big question surrounding Bakugo’s popularity was the degree to which fans liked him because they saw him as someone who could change (particularly in regards to personal redemption for his terrible behavior towards Deku), and to what extent people liked him precisely because he’s an asshole. When the series then brings a more extreme version of this dynamic, the question of whether someone deserves forgiveness or a second chance becomes a lot more fraught: The hero Endeavor has a history as an abusive father, for instance, and the villain Shigaraki (responsible for many evils) is himself a product of generational trauma and manipulation. MHA seems to touch directly and indirectly on many cultural flashpoints of the past decade by virtue of being a series that 1) wants to portray a bunch of powerful and attractive guys and girls, 2) is very much centered around different ideas of hard work, camaraderie, and justice, and 3) is a long-running shounen series with lots of plot threads, which means pacing becomes an issue at some points.

The Ending

So when the final chapter came out, it was perhaps inevitable that the reaction would be mixed. There are too many different people with their own perspectives reading this series in their own ways. Even so, it still surprised me how much disappointment seemed to resonate through the fandom. Some interpreted his new life as a quirkless UA Academy teacher to be a bittersweet outcome. They saw it as unfair that a guy who saves the world gets little fanfare and legacy, especially because he loses his powers leading the charge to defeat the ultimate villain of the series, All-for-One. Even All-for-One apparently falls short as a major villain. Other criticismsI’ve seen include the lack of resolution for romantic shops, that outside of a brief period as a vigilantes, Deku never develops a “dark side,” and that having his old classmates develop a Batman/Iron Man–esque super suit for him is a cop-out ending.

Yet the ending is so appropriately Deku. It’s fitting that he would accomplish arguably the greatest feat his world has ever seen and then recede from the spotlight, only to be pulled back into it by the people whose lives he changed. Deku goes through a great many ordeals throughout the entire story, and while he learns that the world presents some complex moral quandaries, those tribulations also reinforce Deku’s inherently kind nature. He sacrifices All Might’s gift to him, One-for-All, to get through to his primary nemesis and rival, Shigaraki. He ultimately reconciles with a changed Bakugo, but not without taking many lumps in the process. In the aftermath of the final battle, he even encourages a villain to write a book about his perspective on why Shigaraki was the greatest, because Deku wants to hear the story he has to tell. And while Deku isn’t holding hands with Ochako (the #1 romantic prospect in the series) by the end, he does call her “his hero.” Even if they’re not officially together in the final chapter, they’re still only in their early 20s, with plenty of life ahead of them. 

It reminds me of the backlash against the ending of Gurren-Lagann, which was also a series where fans loved seeing the hero reach ever greater heights that all seemed to lead to a perfect happy ending, only for a slight twist at the end to break the tidal wave of endorphins the series had been generating at the end. I saw fans at the time its last episode aired express such anger and frustration at its ending, while missing the fact that the hero’s actions signify that the errors of past generations won’t be made by him.

Other Thoughts

I know that some of the problems were caused by questionable fan translations that made Deku seem a lot sadder than he actually was. But even taking all that into consideration, it’s strange to me that “teacher at UA Academy” is joked about as being some kind of perverse punishment. It allows Deku to apply one of his greatest strengths—his love of studying and analyzing quirks—in a way that connects to his inherent desire to help others. Deku’s humble nature is central to his being, and while I don’t wish to analyze the readers themselves, I can’t help but wonder how many people dream of being showered with praise for doing something great, and feel at odds with Deku’s values. If Deku has any great flaw, it’s his willingness to sacrifice himself at any moment, and even that is turned on its head by the fact that his friends found a way to make him a superhero again. 

It also juxtaposes him against All-for-One, who is ultimately shown to be a lifelong sociopath and the embodiment of selfishness. Speaking of whom, I can understand why readers might be disappointed that All-for-One turns out to have pretty uncomplicated motivations instead of those of a true mastermind, but I also think that contrast makes for an important point. For all his power and influence, he was ultimately no better than an emotionally stunted individual whose infamy and accomplishments masked an otherwise naked avarice. “Wasn’t he just a big baby in the end?” Yes, both figuratively and literally, and I can think of a couple real world examples who are exactly this way. The idea that great evil doesn’t need great motivation is deceptively simple.

Final Thoughts

With a series like My Hero Academia, it’s impossible to satisfy everyone who read it, especially because so many disparate groups came to this series. For some, it was a breath of fresh air in manga and comics. For others, it was their introduction to anime and manga. It was a mix of two of the world’s biggest genres with a few others thrown into the pot, and it went on for 10 years. Did it drag at times and leave some plot threads untied? For sure—that was almost inevitable. Yet I do feel that My Hero Academia successfully kept its core intact. There is growth, but growth doesn’t have to mean tossing away everything that made you who you are. For all the ups and downs, I think Horikoshi stuck the landing by remaining true to the hero he created.

Early-ish Thoughts on hololive EN Justice

It’s been almost two months since hololive debuted its 4th English generation, Justice. Now that I’ve gotten to watch them for a bit, I wanted to give some general impressions and other thoughts.

Justice consists of the warrior singer Elizabeth Rose Bloodflame, the violin-playing automaton Cecilia Immergreen, the gamer gremlin Gigi Murin, and the artist panther Raora Panthera. Their backstory involves a mission to pursue the fugitives of the 3rd generation (Advent), but all of them are just using that as a pretense to get closer to their “targets” and become actual friends. It’s a fun way to add some flavor that makes it easy to both incorporate and ignore their own lore.

One of the biggest changes with the 4th generation is that most of them are European-coded, and they’re generally present during Europe-friendly hours. Elizabeth comes from Great Exardia and has a very British accent. Cecilia is from Immerheim and is natively fluent in German. Raora hails from the Romance Empire, where the local tongue is Italian. The only exception is Gigi from Freesia (which is so full of Freedom), but she streams at the same general time as the others. 

There’s long been a lull in the day because hololive focuses on North American and Asian viewers in terms of timing, with only Takanashi Kiara and Kaela Kovalskia around during prime CET hours. Having new girls help fill that void creates opportunities to gain and keep new fans. Also it lets more people feel both the joys of being near the same time zone as your favorite and the agony of that not being the case.

Something I find notable about Justice is that they’re the first English generation where none of them possess strong Japanese skills. Myth has Kiara and to a lesser extent Calli, Promise has IRyS and Bae (with Kronii putting in work), and Advent has the twins FuwaMoco. This is not a knock on any of the 4th Gen girls or any other hololive member. Rather, I think the fact that Cover Corp didn’t feel the need to include at least one person fluent in Japanese is a sign of how much more global hololive has become. Might we reach a point where we have hololive talent who knows neither English nor Japanese?

Currently, I think I like Raora best. Her food tangents are very enjoyable, her voice is very soothing, and the fact that she so readily draws fanart of herself means that she and her fans can appreciate her design together. The other three have their merits too. Elizabeth has an uncanny talent for voice impersonation that she uses in delightfully devious ways. Cecilia has a dry and absurd sense of humor that sneaks up on you. Gigi’s wit and ability to banter are both top tier, and I learn a lot every time I watch her.

I’m curious to see how they’ll be a year later, or whenever they receive their 3D models. 

(Actually, I just want to see Raora’s hand talking in all its glory.)

In Pursuit of New Experiences: A Sign of Affection

A Sign of Affection is a shoujo anime that makes a powerful impression. Based on the manga by Morishita Suu, it features a hearing-impaired protagonist in her first romance, and the uplifting nature of its story centers around how she navigates life without positioning her as a tragic figure or an example of “overcoming the odds.”

Itose Yuki is a new university student who’s deaf. Not long after she starts school, Yuki meets Nagi Itsuomi, an older student who loves traveling and studying languages. She’s drawn to Itsuomi’s kindness and forwardness, but also his constant desire to broaden his horizons. Itsuomi begins learning sign language, sparking a connection that both of them want to foster. There’s drama, romantic rivals, hopes, and all the things that make for a good love story—but in a way that feels much more realistic.

Historically, characters in fiction with disabilities are utilized as pitiable or admirable “freaks” differentiated from the fully abled. Depicting disability in fiction in a sensitive manner means acknowledging the unique challenges created by a disability without exoticizing it. But there is no universal approach to achieving this, and it is itself a subject of debate. I am not deaf, and so I’m speaking as an outsider, but I think A Sign of Affection manages to be a work that is conscientious of its circumstances without being condescending. Yuki’s situation factors into the complexities of love, but aren’t the sole driving factor. 

One of the unique aspects of the A Sign of Affection anime is its emphasis on lips. Anime is typically known for using generic mouth flaps to animate speech as a cost-saving measure. But when the show is about a girl who has to read lips to communicate with most people, this won’t fly. While A Sign of Affection doesn’t do it for every scene, there are a lot of moments where it animates mouth movements in very fine detail to emphasize how Yuki approaches her interactions.

It’s worth noting that this work is still made mainly for those who can hear. We don’t seem to be at the point where an anime is specifically made with hearing disabilities in mind, but maybe it’ll happen someday.

I Ate Nissin Curry Meshi Thanks to hololive

Truly “instant” curry rice is something I’ve always wanted, but the idea of a truly shelf stable with absolutely minimal prep time seemed a bit farfetched. That’s why I was surprised a few years ago to see Minato Aqua, Oozora Subaru, and Usada Pekora from hololive promoting a new product called Nissin Curry Meshi, i.e. Japanese curry rice in a cup.

When I traveled to Japan last year, I used the opportunity to get some for myself. What I didn’t know is that there were multiple versions at this point: the original; the “perfect meal” version; extra spicy; and hayashi, which is technically not curry but often gets lumped in with it. Yotsuba famously called hayashi “fake curry.”

As stated in the hololive video above, preparing these instant curries involves adding water to the cup, waiting a few minutes, and then stirring continuously to get the roux to melt and mix with the rice. It’s a little more involved than Cup Noodles, but not by much.

Every flavor tastes close enough to what they claim to be. They hit the right notes, and wouldn’t be mistaken for anything else. I do think the perfect meal version kicks the whole product into the realm of the mildly inconvenient with its extra separate curry powder, but it ends up tasting all right overall. 

Regular

The rice is decent but does not taste 100% authentic. It’s unlikely anyone would confuse this for fresh (or even day old) rice if it was served in a blind taste test. It sort of reminds me of a rice-based breakfast cereal in that it feels like dehydrated rice that has been reconstituted, but not necessarily like it’s cooked rice that has dried out. It’s like the curry isn’t quite all there, nor is the rice, but together, they make for a decent facsimile.

Some of the containers suggest adding a raw egg after pouring the water, but depending on how comfortable you are with eating very undercooked eggs (or how where you live treats its eggs), it might not be the best idea. 

Hayashi (left) and Keema (right)

In recent years, Nissin has been selling its seafood and curry Cup Noodles in the US, and these products are closer to the more high-quality versions found in Japan. I hope that they find a way to bring Curry Meshi here. It’s not the best thing in the world, but I could see it doing well with those who want something quick and easy but are getting tired of instant noodles. 

(It does make me wonder if Nissin branches would come up with flavors to cater to local tastes. Maybe instead of Curry Meshi, we’d get instant rice and beans.)

The Amiba Isekai Has a More Balanced Roster than the Original Fist of the North Star

Fist of the North Star Side Story: The Genius Amiba’s Otherworld Conqueror Legend is a spin-off manga that has rarely disappointed. Its silly premise is that the minor villain Amiba (aka Fake Toki) has been isekai’d, only rather than getting killed by a truck, it was death by Kenshiro. And instead of getting run over, it was being violently exploded while forced to walk backwards off a ledge

Amiba is a delusional asshole who has noteworthy skill but frequently overestimates himself. He is devoid of honor and compassion, and cares little about anything but showing what a “genius” he is. It’s why he’s such an insufferable enemy in the main series, but the funny thing is that the guy’s poor personality results in a manga with a much more balanced roster of good guys when he’s the lead.

In the original Fist of the North Star, Kenshiro is a perfect hero to a fault. He’s great for his story, but he also always overshadows his allies because he’s the strongest, kindest, and most badass guy around. A similar thing happens with other spin-offs: Whether it’s Raoh, Toki, or whoever, they’re often portrayed as being a level or ten above those around them. Not so with Amiba. 

In the new world he finds himself in, Amiba has little natural aptitude for the sorcery inherent to it. But while his Hokuto Shinken skills are woefully incomplete compared to the true masters of his original life, such martial arts skills are virtually unheard of in the other world. Many characters outclass him in a few (or many) ways, and it means that Amiba can’t do everything on his own despite thinking he can. As the roster of allies (all of whom are parodies of existing FotNS characters) grows, they function much more as a team than Kenshiro and friends ever did. Whether it’s Toluukin the great mage (Toki), Shuuza of the Clouds (Juuza), or a gigantic grandma (who is actually not an oversized goon in disguise but rather the headmaster of an elite wizard school), everyone shores up the others’ weak points.

It’s great. Amiba makes for a fun main character because he’s so utterly flawed. The series doesn’t celebrate that fact—more using it as the basis for its humor—but it also provides plenty of opportunity for growth to an extent. At the end of Volume 7, Amiba is outnumbered against the Demon Lord’s army. Defeating them would be impossible, but then all the people he met in this other world appear, ready to help him (think Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers or Avengers: Endgame). In response to the overwhelming support, Amiba talks about all he sees around him are idiots, but that together, they can accomplish what average nobodies never could—that collectively, they are geniuses.

Amiba is still the height of arrogance and selfishness, but now he’s extended that attitude to include all his allies. He won’t ever be the hero Kenshiro is, but he can make a difference in his own way (if he can manage to get over himself).

A Locomotive of Motives: Train to the End of the World

I don’t know if Train to the End of the World is a true turning point in anime, but it feels like an important intersection of a lot of trends and forces that have been at play over the past ten, maybe even twenty years. 

In the world of the near future, an attempt to launch a 7G network actually twists Japan into a nigh-unrecognizable land of bizarre mysteries and fundamental changes to everything people know. In the city of Agano, adults have turned into sentient animals, wireless communications are dead, and information is hard to come by. Chikura Shizuru is a student living in Agano, going through their daily lives in the fallout of the 7G Incident, but when she learns that her missing friend Yoka might be in Ikebukuro, she and her friends commandeer an out-of-commission train in the hopes of reaching Yoka.

This anime touches on a lot of popular tropes, but in a way that plays with expectations. The series is indeed about Cute Girls Doing a Thing—in this case riding a train through Japan—but it can hardly be called “slice of life” because there is a lot of narrative momentum. It follows in the trend of post-apocalypse and travelog series like Girls’ Last Tour and Kino’s Journey, but it’s less about the ennui of the environment and more about exploring a strange new world. The fact that it’s done via commuter rail and with girls whose relationships carry different degrees of baggage pushes the story away from the quiet gravitas such works often exude and into something more personal. Plenty of titles (especially from the studio P.A. Works) highlight less famous parts of Japan, but they don’t typically present them as Escher-like warpings of reality. I think the closest series might be Rolling Girls, but even that series’s brand of fantastical is very different.

What’s more, Train to the End of the World takes all these somewhat contradictory directions and ties them all together in a satisfying manner. This kind of creativity is actually something I was hopeful about when I first heard about the series, particularly because Mizushima Tsutomu was at the helm. As the director of both SHIROBAKO and Girls und Panzer, he’s proven ability to tell remarkably involved stories that marry a lot of disparate energies together. While Train to the End of the World isn’t my favorite of the three, I feel like it might be the most impressive of them from a storytelling perspective. 

I encourage the skeptical to give it a chance.

Miki Kinemi and the Electrifying Characters of Blue Period

I’ve been catching up on the English releases of the Blue Period manga, and I’ve come to a few realizations.

I Really Like Miki Kinemi

Miki first appears while Yatora is taking the Tokyo University of the Arts entrance exam, and her design stood out to me. Her stocky frame and soft features left a lasting impression on me, and I hoped she would become a recurring character. I’m glad my wish turned out to be true.

Miki’s positive personality and enthusiasm for painting, the way she wears her heart on her sleeve, and the way she tries to take on others’ burdens (sometimes to her own detriment) make for an endearing character. Her body type is also a rarity in manga, and I’m very impressed by the author, Yamaguchi Tsubasa, and her ability to draw Miki so well. I’m a real fan—of both Yamaguchi and Miki.

Actually, They’re All Really Attractive 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that pretty much all the characters in Blue Period are charming in their own way. Girls, guys, gender nonconforming, they all exhibit a real spark of life that is facilitated by their respective visual designs but also goes beyond their appearance. They’re not attractive simply because they have XYZ physical and personality features but because they feel very human—beautiful and ugly and trying to navigate the world with the tools they have. Some of those tools are the result of their own work, but some have been forced upon them.

When I see a character show up again, I can get a tingle in my spine.

When you get them to bounce off one another, it’s like magic. Or art. One of my favorite things in manga is seeing really deep and dynamic character interaction, and Blue Period has this in spades. The subject matter probably helps, as these artists (from veterans to beginners) are look within while also peering into the souls of others for the sake of their work, or they try to run away and inadvertently do so anyway.

Is Blue Period Now One of My Favorite Manga?

I’ve thought highly of it for a long time, but now I like it even more. So yes, probably.

Bringing the Band Back Together: Sound! Euphonium 3

Sound! Euphonium 3 concludes a nine-year journey that follows the students of the Kitauji High School Music Club through the drama of high school and band competition. Taken in isolation, this season feels like the end of an era. Factoring in the tragedies that the studio Kyoto Animation has gone through, it’s one of the greatest victories ever.

Euphonium player Oumae Kumiko and her friends are now the seniors, and have thus gone from newbies to leaders. For Kumiko, that’s more than literal; she’s now the president. They’ve seen the club go from recreational to competitive, and they have one more chance to earn what has eluded them the past two years: gold at nationals. But a few challenges lie ahead, like trying to guide the club as its veterans, and figuring out what their respective futures in music (if any) looks like. Kumiko also meets a transfer student named Mayu who’s a euphonium player herself, and she has to think about the degree to which this final year is meant to be her own time in the spotlight or Kitauiji’s. 

Can the club hold together and win nationals, or will it fall apart before even making it back?

In preparation for this review, I read through my old posts about Sound! Euphonium. Seeing where Season 3 begins in comparison really highlights the fact that these characters have each gone on their own journeys while part of a greater overall adventure. Kumiko now sees herself as a euphonium player through and through, and her previous ambivalence about music has made way for a different type of ambivalence focused more on what comes next. Trumpeter Kousaka Reina has gone from upstart prodigy to the central pillar of the club, where her unmatched skill, no-nonsense attitude, and unwavering dedication to music positions her as an intimidating yet inspiring upperclassman. Kawashima “Midori” Sapphire has become the gentle but firm mentor to a fellow contrabass player. And Katou Hazuki, who had joined the club on a lark and with no musical experience, can now play the tuba with consistent confidence. They can all display genuine skill with their instruments now, despite how differently they began.

Being the veterans also means new obstacles. One is the fact that the first-years did not go through the fires of change with their teacher, Taki-sensei, and don’t understand why the older members revere him. Another is that Kumiko and the others have managed to rehabilitate the school’s reputation to the point that some students enroll specifically to join the music club, and so many already have entrenched ideas of what to expect. With the main cast as the seniors, they’re now in a place where they are the most mature people in the room. 

At the same time, the third year of high school in Japan also traditionally marks the end of immaturity. Kumiko struggles with envisioning her future, which is made all the more difficult by the fact that Reina is ready to dedicate the rest of her life to reaching greater heights in music. The previous club leaders can seem like giants who had it all figured out, so why does it seem so different now? The transition from childhood to adulthood underlies this final season. It feels genuine, and I find myself reminiscing a bit about what it was like.

Five years have passed since I last watched any Sound! Euphonium, so it’s hard for me to directly compare this concluding season with the previous entries. Even so, I think it holds up to my memories of the anime and as a work unto itself. But when you’re aware of the catastrophes that Kyoto Animation faced—namely an arson attack that claimed the lives of over 30 people and injured dozens of others as well, and then COVID-19—Sound! Euphonium 3 is a true triumph for everyone involved. The fact that they had such devastating setbacks and managed to pull off a final season that looks and feels so satisfying really speaks to how great KyoAni is at spreading institutional knowledge and making sure it’s not just the veterans who hoard all the glory. When it comes to both the Kitauji High School Music Club and Kyoto Animation, understanding the importance of passing the torch is paramount.

Rivalry at Its Finest—Haikyu!!: The Dumpster Battle

In a sports anime where relationships on the court are centrally important, the defining team rivalry of Haikyu! is undoubtedly Karasuno vs. Nekoma. In Haikyu!! The Dumpster Battle, it all comes to a head as the two face off in the big inter-high tournament.

While the high-flying Hinata Shoyo is generally the star of the series, this movie feels like one where his friend and longest rival, Nekoma’s setter Kozume Kenma, is the actual main character. A significant amount of time is spent exploring his history and inner world, elaborating on how he started playing volleyball, and what has kept him in the sport despite his dislike of physical exertion. It’s because the film is basically an adaptation of a small chunk of the manga, but I appreciate that its story can be told in a way that really shines the spotlight on Kenma and adds a new perspective on his relationship with Hinata, as well as with Kenma’s own teammates.

The two schools are set up as equal but opposite forces. The Karasuno duo are the high-flying spiker Hinata and the technical setter Kageyama, while Nekoma’s main pair consists of the quietly analytical setter Kenma and the psychology-oriented Kuroo. Whereas Karasuno focuses on heavy aerial offense meant to overwhelm, Nekoma stays primarily grounded and defensive, strategically picking apart opponents. It’s a little on-the-nose, with the whole “ravens vs. cats” imagery, but there’s nothing wrong with that if it’s executed well.

What I especially like about this film is the fact that it’s all about a single match, and the majority of it is spent in competition. It reminds me of the Girls und Panzer films, which also take the time to depict long, drawn-out battles where two sides try to outwit and trap each other. Production I.G. goes out of its way to make the volleyball look amazing, even sometimes making it feel like you’re right there on the court.

Despite obviously being meant for people who have been watching Haikyu!! from the start, I actually think a non-fan could come into this pretty easily. They might assume that Kenma is the protagonist, and might not get all the running gags, but The Dumpster Battle is just a fine piece of sports fiction that just also happens to include lots of handsome dudes.

Checking out Holostars: Vanguard Debuts and Movin’ On

Over the past month, there have been a number of events for Holostars, the men’s side of hololive. While I don’t usually watch them often, I decided to check out both the Tempus Vanguard 3D debuts, as well as the Holostars JP 5th anniversary concert, Movin’ On. While the boys get only a fraction of the attention that the girls do, it’s become clear to me that this discrepancy has little to do with a lack of talent.

Holostars Popularity

I think the massive success of the hololive girls can skew people’s perspectives when it comes to how well the guys are doing. Holostars members have subscriber counts that are sometimes an order of magnitude smaller than their female counterparts, but this is comparing 100 thousand to 1 million—they’re still in the upper echelons of both VTubers and online content creators. I don’t pretend to know what makes anything become enormously popular, but they’ve all garnered sizable fanbases in their own ways. I wonder if the disparity just has to do with how girls are more often willing to watch stuff made for guys, but the reverse doesn’t happen as much.

Tempus Vanguard 3D

3D debuts/showcases are one-time events in the hololive world, and so they naturally attract curious passersby like myself. They also give new insight on figures who were basically only talking heads, with the added benefit that these special streams are built entirely around putting the VTuber’s skills and personality on display. Tempus Vanguard is no exception. Bettel’s buffoonery has extra nuance when you can see him physically clowning around (and getting clowned on). Flayon is surprisingly athletic, which makes him seem even more animated than normal. Hakka’s powerful singing was obvious even in 2D, but getting to see his physical expressions only adds to his performance. Shinri’s willingness to go a bit “out-of-character” for his song selections makes him even more masculine.

Movin’ On

For the Movin’ On concert, I followed Kureiji Ollie’s stream VOD so that she and her watchalong crew could fill in the gaps a little. These events are often culmination points for talents and their fandoms rather than neutral evaluations of their abilities, and I knew that I was lacking the right context in basically all cases. Together with Area 15, Baelz Hakos, and the live audience, I got a somewhat better understanding of the relationship each Holostars member has with their respective followers. 

Just like with the hololive girls, though, there are some individuals who can really command the stage. Minase Rio’s singing is beautiful. Roberu carries his jovial charisma from his chatting streams to his performances. Astel Leda has undeniable star power, combining a versatile voice with serious dance skills.

Overall, it’s just good to see everyone in Holostars provide a good time for their fans, be it through thrilling stage performances or as a comforting respite from the world. Maybe someday, we’ll get to see the EN and JP branches together at the annual hololive fes in their own concert (as opposed to a fun karaoke session), or even together with the female talents. Whatever the future holds, I’d like to see them succeed on their own terms.

Movin’ On is still available for a limited time as a VOD costing 6,500 yen.