The Summer Hikaru Died

Episode 9

This episode begins by dissolving the tension from the boys' prior encounter with a powerful impurity, only for it to conclude on an even more shocking moment. Well played. Despite this week's dialogue-heavy proceedings, the narrative continues at a breezy pace, developing the main relationship while revealing more dirty secrets hiding in the village's past.

Before I get too ahead of myself, I must apologize to Kurebayashi. I had been skeptical of her advice and intentions towards Yoshiki, but I feel like I have a better grasp on her now. The additional flashback to her “husband” hurting her son cements how guilty she must still feel, although I additionally appreciate the shot showing us that the spirit cries, too. Malice isn't a prerequisite for causing harm. Kurebayashi verifies to herself that Hikaru isn't malicious, and she takes on a maternal manner as she talks both boys through what she knows about impurities. Human moments like her forgetting what lightning rods are called also make her more likable.

At the same time, Kurebayashi definitely keeps her guard up around Hikaru. She emphasizes that it's simply in Hikaru's nature to attract paranormal trouble. He may have even been created for that purpose (I have some theories). While she calls both of them “good boys,” her second sight nevertheless perceives the stark contrast between Yoshiki's and Hikaru's natures. And after Yoshiki leaves, she pulls Hikaru aside and basically tells him not to get too close to Yoshiki. She believes this would be safest for everyone, but she lacks the perspective to understand the totality of what Hikaru means to Yoshiki. It may be analogous to her relationship with her husband, yet she herself admits that Hikaru is a far different kind of creature. He's unique. He's queer.

Yoshiki, for his part, has come to more fully appreciate Hikaru's queerness. We see this happen in tandem with his paying of respects to the real Hikaru, as he makes the quietly devastating point that only he knows to mourn for him. This story's ability to gut-punch you like that out of nowhere is one of its strongest assets. When the current Hikaru walks in on him, they mirror the cold open with the two lads standing over the grave of Hikaru's dad. This time, however, it's Yoshiki who deflects with humor after Hikaru brings up his attraction to his friend.

In a weird and circuitous way, I think Yoshiki's closetedness pushes him to accept Hikaru's inhumanity. He outright states that he doesn't want Hikaru to try to be human, and he imagines a future where Hikaru can just be himself. Some of that is almost certainly projection. Yoshiki's repressed desire to be openly gay manifests as this supportive role. But it's also possible that his internal logic believes he won't have to confront his homosexuality if the object of his attraction isn't technically a human male. In other words, in his mind, there's nothing intrinsically gay about feeling around inside your friend's gaping and warm flesh hole. Except, of course, there absolutely is.

Hikaru's desires are more of a mystery. They're harder to pin down because he tends to be deferential to Yoshiki's thoughts and opinions. However, we may deduce that Hikaru wants to be human—or humanesque, at the very least. He didn't take over Hikaru's body and pose as him for half a year just because a dying boy asked him nicely. He probably wanted to get off that mountain and blend in with ordinary people, and even if that wasn't running through his mind at the time, he's grown to enjoy his quotidian life. In fact, he's been willing to kill to preserve it. Yoshiki can quell these thoughts with a well-timed head pat, but, inevitably, Hikaru's desires will not align perfectly with Yoshiki's. When those conflicts arise, it'll be important.

The episode's slow simmer of exposition and character beats suddenly turns boiling when the boys meet up with Old Man Takeda. An elderly hermit shouting enigmatic portents at the protagonists is a staple of small-town horror, and their conversation escalates at a gripping pace. Takeda drops more clues about Nonuki-sama's true nature, describing it as “maimed” (maybe Hikaru is a horrific amalgam of countless dead people), and he confirms that the Indo family has a bloody past that their current ritual is supposed to atone for. He gets possessed before we get a straight answer, but this is enough information to keep the mystery's gears turning.

Finally, Tanaka saves the day and carves some meat. I had wondered how his first encounter with Hikaru would turn out, but I can't say I anticipated a decapitation so soon. True to his laid-back character, Tanaka is hilariously blasé about the attack, adding to the surreality of the tableau. I'm not surprised this wasn't enough to kill Hikaru, and that doesn't seem to have been Tanaka's intention in the first place, but Yoshiki's presence grounds the scene in an emotional reality. He's just a kid, after all. When he holds his friend's head in his hands, the macabre image feels genuinely tragic and foreboding. The Summer Hikaru Died has no intention of letting us get comfortable anytime soon.

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The Summer Hikaru Died is currently streaming on Netflix.