Tatsuki Fujimoto's early-career standalone stories show the subtle ways he's developed as a manga author. From trying his hand at a straightforward romantic story to the early foundations of the enigmatic world of Chainsaw Man, the one-shots provide a peek into his unpolished yet burgeoning creative talent. Considering Fujimoto's global name recognition after the international popularity of his magnum opus, as well as the universal praise of the 2024 film adaptation of Look Back, Avex Pictures saw the potential in animating Tatsuki Fujimoto 17-26.

By providing directors and studios with budgets for their respective episodes, the anthology yields a series of distinct, visually impressive installments. This maintains their integrity as standalone stories rather than forcing a connected throughline to tie all eight together, allowing the episode staff to focus on creatively adapting their given one-shot however they'd like. Producer Ryo Oyama shared that they brainstormed the idea of either keeping the stories separate or connecting them. Thankfully, they went with the finalized work.

The eight episodes cover each story in Tatsuki Fujimoto Before Chainsaw Man: 17-21 and Tatsuki Fujimoto Before Chainsaw Man: 22–26 in the same order. By themselves, they're a smorgasbord of Fujimoto's boundless ideas and story experimentation. It's easy to see the early foundations of his later character designs and polished plots.

Now, in the hands of veteran directors, his stories are being given new life. Certain episodes stood out more than their manga counterparts, and some completely changed my perspective on the one-shot. Seishirō Nagaya's direction in A Couple Clucking Chickens Were Still Kickin' in the Schoolyard kicks off the series with a vibrant, action-packed take on a story originally released in 2011. The animated version of the tongue-twister expands on the post-apocalyptic world overrun by aliens, whose designs steal the show. Although Ami's character wasn't compelling to me at first glance in the manga, I was moved by the catharsis she and Yuto earned. Unlike the abrupt, cut-to-black ending in the manga, the episode expands on the final battle between two aliens, closing on an optimistic note despite the bleak reality.

Sasaki Stopped a Bullet comes next with a story completely summed up by its title. Director Nobukage Kimura depicts Fujimoto's humorously executed message of the power of believing in the impossible, which is defined as merely an outcome with low odds. The animation production is straightforward and standard compared to the episode before, but Teruko Utsumi's screenplay draws out the witty dialogue while the voice actors deliver on absurd line reads that match the exaggerated facial expressions. Rounded out with the episode's impeccable comedic timing, Kimura succinctly conveys how influential a person's words can be, and how that can be passed on to others who later achieve the unthinkable.

The cosmically absurd Love is Blind provides an uplifting break after two tales of desolate and grim situations. This is the crowd-pleaser, combining the simple drama of a teen romance with absolute absurdity. Ibuki, determined to confess to his vice president come hell or high water, finds himself in escalating situations that follow Murphy's law. The viewer can't help but cheer for the student council president's fearless resolution, even in the face of annihilation. Love is Blind pulls humorous punches without the need for fancy animation or surprises; just pure romantic tension told in the simplest form.

Despite its deceptive name, Shikaku is another love story in the anthology. The introduction was a hard watch, as it includes some mild bug torture and physical child abuse, but the story shows how Fujimoto's skill in developing relationship-building has taken new leaps. A female assassin with an odd sense of morals takes on her latest job: killing an immortal vampire at his behest. Though she fails at taking him down, she's drawn to him, and he finds her amusing. Even in the manga, their original attraction lacks a clear connection. This leaves Naoya Ando–who directed Paradox Live The Animation–to take an earnest stab at this exploration of love between the unlikely pair. In the end, the impressive animation can't carry the character development and depth the story lacks, but it's a spectacle.

Next up is Mermaid Rhapsody, a touching–but middling–episode that adapts Fujimoto's most conventional one-shot. Among the romantic stories between hitmen, vampires, aliens, and high schoolers, this coming-of-age story follows a boy and a mermaid. Tetsuaki Watanabe, director of the first season of BLUELOCK, straightforwardly adapts the story but lacks the manga's sentimentality. Outside of the lovely piano melody that Toshihide plays for Shiju, this adaptation struck me as interchangeable with any other slice-of-life anime in the marketplace.

Woke-Up-as-a-Girl Syndrome is a contender for the most colorful and vibrantly creative episode next to the first one. At times, the Studio Kafka staff seem to be showing off their ability to experiment with camera angles and insert eye-catching designs at the drop of a hat. All episodes include an ending song, but this sixth episode outperforms the others with its earworm city-pop track and stylized ending sequence. This all keeps the heavy topic and divisive approach on gender identity and body dysmorphia relatively easygoing and upbeat. Even uncomfortable moments of objectification and sexual harassment are given a carefree tint as they're layered between a catchy tune and striking visuals. Still, director Kazuaki Terasawa maintains the light-hearted tone of Fujimoto's original one-shot, while giving the audience a reason to root for Toshihide and Rie.

Once we get to Nayuta of the Prophecy, it's clear the production team was itching to draw parallels to the insane world of Chainsaw Man. The two siblings are thrust into a cruel world faced with an even crueler fate as crazed zealots—who fear Nayuta's prophesied world-ending powers—murder their father.

Tonally, director Watanabe figuratively and visually paints the world in a dark gradient, making Kenji feel physically and emotionally cornered on-screen as he is forced to clean up after his younger sister's carnage. The episode continues to escalate the tensions between the siblings and society, until it reaches a crashing crescendo as Nayuta summons a sky full of swords and severed hands in retaliation for their attack on her brother. But underneath her strange words and piles of animal carcasses, Nayuta is simply a child who worries about her brother. Despite everything he's been put through, as well as Nayuta's raw power, Kenji steadfastly remains loyal to her as her brother. Once he acknowledges his fear of her—tackling it head on—he finds the strength to properly scold her. After he honestly expresses his intention to continue protecting her, mankind be damned, the hanging dark clouds finally clear. Kenji and Nayuta's heartwarming sibling relationship wraps up cleanly, as the color schemes, uplifting musical composition, and emotional payoff bring the episode to a close.

Ending the eight-part series in Sisters. This episode's potent blend of a good story, high production, and smooth execution makes it an unforgettable closer. A crass but heartwarming one-shot follows Akiko, who distanced herself from her sibling out of jealousy. One day, in front of the entire school, she is publicly humiliated by her younger sister's award-winning nude drawing of her. Later, she comes to realize how much her younger sister admires her, which reignites her passion for art and her relationship with her sister. Director Shū Honma approaches this tale with a gentleness that drove me to tears. Although there was less room for creative liberties, Honma doesn't hold back and pulls the emotional punches right where they hurt, in a good way. His previous direction on the comedy series Ya Boy Kongming! shines through in the hysterically funny scenes that provide an emotional break before diving into the heaviest scenes. As a side note, the nude artwork and the full nudity scene from the manga are kept intact in the episode.

If you've only seen Chainsaw Man or Look Back, you'll be able to see Fujimoto's early foundations for those worlds in Tatsuki Fujimoto 17-26. But watching this anime series will be a different experience because of how underdeveloped and uneven the scenarios, the plot, and the characters are compared to his serialized work. Even when retold through an animated lens, Fujimoto's steady growth as a storyteller shines through. The six directors round out Fujimoto's creative infancy with their own unique takes on his stories. Like the longest (but enjoyable) roller coaster you've ever been on, the eight episodes are a wild ride from start to finish.