Rooster Fighter

Episode 5

Last week, I said that episode four was the best episode of Rooster Fighter to date, but I wanted more emotional moments. Now that this week's episode actually delivered emotional moments? Yeah, this is the best episode so far. The whole episode was gentle, sweet, and introspective, and the best thing about it ending on a cliffhanger is knowing that next week will hopefully deliver more of the same.

Until we get to the main meat of the episode, though, we learn that our chicken gang is now internet famous. Some entomology geek managed to capture their last demon fight on video and now it's blowing up online. Not only has this made our heroes a target for kidnappers (chicknappers? Fowl play?), but now the uploader himself is obsessed with tracking them down to make his “View”tuber dreams come true. Props go to the animation team for crafting the greasiest, most stereotypical nerd to ever exist—if you identify as any kind of otaku, consider yourself called out.

That storyline is cut rather abruptly when our trio splits up in a huff, leaving Keiji to wander to his lone wolf's content. He stumbles into a gambling parlor where he unexpectedly meets Morio, a human-sized demon who can communicate with him telepathically. Unlike most other demons, Morio doesn't have an evil bone in his body. He has no desire to kill or rampage, and despite his telepathic abilities, he doesn't even have the urge to command others like the monster from last week. Instead, he just wants to live an unbothered quiet life, chilling in his little twig hut and wondering why he exists.

Unlike other demons, too, Morio is no longer attached to his original human. Created from grief after his human received a terminal medical diagnosis, he was violently ejected when his middle-aged host bemoaned that he'd yet to even start living his life. Whether it was that rejection that altered the course of his life, or a genuine clerical mistake from the hospital, the human soon learned that he was in fact not dying, and vowed to reclaim his life before it was too late. Without the resentment, Morio no longer has a purpose either—instead of terrorizing humanity on his human's behalf (a half-baked idea that his human rejects), he is suddenly confronted with an existence that has no goal. He slowly withers away into a lumpy, vascularized, human-sized almost-man, inadvertently taking on his human's own aimless life.

It's a surprisingly sweet and beautiful scene, one that is somehow profound in both the human's regret at wasting away his life—but also paradoxically, the quiet existence that Morio has managed to settle into. We see that although he's a wallowing shell of loneliness, he's fundamentally a good dude. Maybe we're all too obsessed with the idea of having a purpose anyway—we can't all be superpowered avian heroes; we are just specks of life moving transiently through a flash of time on a rock hurtling through an infinite void. Sorry—too depressing? Maybe life is just about the feathered friends (and docile demons) we meet along the way. Keiji certainly seems to take a liking to this odd being, assuring him there is no such thing as a meaningless life, and urging him to continue living until he finds his purpose.

Elsewhere, Elizabeth and Piyoko are caught in a rainstorm but are taken in by a sweet girl who also cares for her ailing grandfather. She's kind and patient, and although she doesn't have much to give, she gives everything her all. She's the narrative foil to Morio, as are Elizabeth and Piyoko, who provide much-needed aid when a flash flood forces them to help evacuate the grandfather. It's a core moment for little Piyoko, as well, who learns that true strength is more than just brute force and machismo.

I admire sentimentality in media because it's difficult to balance it, especially in a weekly, episodic TV show. There's a fine line between shlock and reflection, and I think this episode really pulls it off. Morio and his host human are so relatable in both of their struggles, especially the double-edged sword of guilt and regret when it comes to balancing the idea of “meaning” and productivity versus enjoying the slow life. The fact that Morio is a demon doesn't even really matter; it's notable in that it's the first time we've gotten one's perspective in Rooster Fighter, but I think his story would be just as poignant if he wasn't.

How could I end this conversation without talking about Drunk Keiji, though? I was already laughing at his misadventures with discount sea urchin, but drunk Keiji's chicken dance? This is what animation was made for, truly. It's a good palate cleanser in a more laidback episode, and one of the goofiest visual gags this show has served to date. All around, this has been such a fun and wholesome episode, and I'm glad to see more of this story next week.

Rating: 3.5

Rooster Fighter is currently airing on Toonami and streaming on Disney+/Hulu.