Kowloon Generic Romance

Episode 13

Memento Mori – a Latin phrase, meaning “remember you must die” – is a little like how Hajime Kudo must perceive Kujirai A, the living embodiment of his deceased lover. Every day he spends in her company, he's perpetually reminded of the woman he's lost, and how this doppelganger isn't her. For countless months, he's been trapped by his grief and inability to move forward with his life, re-living an endless recursive summer, interacting mostly with people who are little but figments conjured from his memories. All except Reiko Kujirai, for he never truly understood her at all. Rather than needlessly specific sci-fi technobabble, what sets Kujirai A's existence apart is that, except for at the most superficial visual level, she is entirely her own person. Generic Terra, whatever it is (and ultimately, it doesn't really matter to this story), could only do so much to replicate Reiko, so instead allowed her to fill the gaps in her personality. Since at least the moment outside influence Yaomay entered Reiko's life, she's been her own person, making constant strides to becoming “her absolute self.” Perhaps that's what saves her, as the entire city crumbles around her, Generic Terra itself dissipating from existence, leaving only a relieved Reiko, and thankfully her wee fishie, Success, intact.

Turns out that goldfish was more important to the plot than a mere nod to the recurrent Kowloon-as-fishbowl motif. Kujirai B never kept an animal, so when Reiko took a pet, it was part of her divergence from her predecessor. Fans had speculated that the fish briefly spoke the name “Reko-pon” in a previous episode, and here we get confirmation that the fish is somehow sentient, acting a little like Reiko's Generic Terra-produced spirit guide. It is a little weird to see her stumble through the crumbling, dystopian wreckage of her city, as random people in the street burn away to nothingness, with a floating talking fish by her shoulder.

Kowloon Generic Romance's backgrounds have always been a highlight of the show, and to see the beautifully-drawn, intimately depicted streets fall to ruin is both a heartbreaking yet cathartic experience. While the show's character animation quality took a nosedive over the past few episodes, the intricately referenced backdrops and sense of place have always been immaculate. We can almost share Kujirai B's overwhelming despair at the destruction of her beloved home, yet this carnage is perhaps what it will take to set Kudo free from his self-inflicted wallowing, and Reiko from her imprisonment.

Throughout the season, in a show full of mysteries (the most important of which have all been – mostly – satisfyingly resolved), the most enduring mystery is Kujirai B herself. We're never given access to her thoughts, and we see her mostly as a dark reflection of Kujirai A, in that they are almost polar opposites. The woman whom Hajime Kudo fell in love with was herself more enamored with Kowloon, or more fearful of a life without it. His unexpected marriage proposal on August 30th, the day before her death, threw her for a loop. This was a woman who admitted to “being a coward,” who hated change, and was on the cusp of several potentially upsetting changes to her life. The glimpses we see are of a woman whose attitude to the future is ambivalent at best, choosing to trust the outcome of her life to pure chance, hence the overdose of the dangerous, recalled Hebinuma Pharmaceuticals drugs. Like Kudo, we're not privy to the exact motivations that led to her death, nor did she even seem to confirm whether or not she accepted his proposal. It's no wonder he's so broken; he thinks he pushed her into ending her life.

I don't think Kujirai B is meant to be sympathetic, as her treatment of Kudo was ultimately callous. Toying with her own life meant she wreaked havoc on his. Similarly, that experience doesn't absolve Kudo of the way he treats Kujirai A, like a puppet he wants to make dance to his tune. Both of them are pretty shitty people, in their own ways. Both are profoundly emotionally damaged, their resulting actions impacting others in catastrophic ways. Kujirai A, however, encourages Kudo to seek resolution alone, while she bravely seeks out her future, regardless of his choices.

It's a sad fact that, as generally fantastic as this adaptation has been, it remains extremely rushed, especially here at its conclusion. In an ideal world, this would have been a 26-episode, two-cour show, fully adapting an entire, complete manga. The manga continues to run, though apparently even the most recent Japanese chapters contain story elements featured in this episode. From the beginning, the producers advised that this anime would have a definitive ending, and I don't think we can get much more definitive than what we have here. It seems likely that author Mayuzuki shared her character arc plans with the scriptwriters, and although certain details may differ between anime and manga, what is presented here seems thematically rich and appropriate. Apart from the ultimately unimportant mechanics of how Generic Terra/Zirconians/Generics work, most burning questions are answered, and most relationships are resolved. Gwen and Miyuki don't get a lot of screentime here, but most importantly, we see them together, and even witness Generic Terra recreating a few of Miyuki's childhood memories. They progress from the story, hopefully, to their own private happiness somewhere off-screen. Even Yulong no longer has to worry about his friend.

Yaomay and Xiaohei have loitered for who knows how long outside Second Kowloon's ruins, waiting for their beloved Reko-pon. One of the finale's most emotionally validating moments is Yaomay's overjoyed reunion with her best friend. I'll say it again, Yaomay is the best gal-pal in all of anime and manga. Everyone needs a Yaomay in their life! It looks like her emotional trauma related to her mother has been resolved off-screen, which is a shame, but I can understand why that's not part of the streamlined central plot. I wonder if she and Xiaohei are an official item yet? I'll await the eventual translated manga chapters in ardent hope.

The time-skipped epilogue is a beautiful touch, showing Reiko in her new job as a travel agent. I hope that means she's been able to realize her dream of traveling the world. I'm also overjoyed she remains best friends with Yaomay, though I'm not so delighted that a previously absent Kudo turns up to eat her lemon chicken. Thankfully, his relationship with Reiko is left ambiguous; they're not currently together, and hopefully, Reiko can move on and find someone else who sees her as her Absolute Self, not a flawed reflection of a dead woman.

Overall, I've been mostly delighted with this respectful and at times pleasantly inspired adaptation. While the rushed pace, variable animation quality, and large content cuts made this a far from definitive version of the story, I'm very glad it exists. Like its progenitor, the anime's depiction of Kowloon makes me nostalgic for a place I've never been, a place I can never visit. It also acts as a profound warning against letting nostalgia rule your life. If anything, the final few episodes with their anime-exclusive re-interpretation of later manga chapters only make me more excited to eventually read the real ending of these characters' stories. If the anime has alerted more potential readers to Jun Mayuzuki's wonderful original work, then job done, as far as I'm concerned. As Kudo says at one point before breaking into tears, “I can't have a do-over.” Not every manga can be as fortunate as Fullmetal Alchemist, with its two separate, equally excellent, though very different adaptations. I can dream, though, can't I?

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Kowloon Generic Romance is currently streaming on Crunchyroll on Saturdays.