This Monster Wants to Eat Me

Episode 10

Midway through this episode, I realized that I am Shiori. That's not to say I'm a giant fish monster who feasts on the flesh of humans—I'm still working on that part. But when Shiori revealed that she spent most of the 20th century dealing with an explosive breakup by listlessly drifting along the ocean currents, I could relate. While not in the sense that I've done the same, I recognized Shiori's thought patterns and rationales. She's a product of untold years' worth of coping mechanisms and conflict avoidance. Even here, at her most honest, Shiori can't help but relay this information through a forced smile and her usual matter-of-fact tone. She is an absolute mess, and that is all the more reason that she and Hinako are perfect for each other.

At the beginning of the season, I harbored doubts that This Monster Wants to Eat Me would have the juice. Hinako's depression, while central to the narrative's dramatic ambitions, did not feel as fleshed out or developed as it could have been. We had intimate access to her thoughts, but they were circular and frustrating. This is, of course, accurate to the way self-hatred justifies itself, so I didn't find fault there. However, Shiori's emotional distance did not provide sufficient counterweight. Miko's presence eventually added more contours to the story, and I think the show has steadily improved as the season has progressed, resulting in last week's deliciously angsty offering. But Shiori remained the missing piece, and this week's episode finally fills in the gap.

We assume that the title This Monster Wants to Eat Me is spoken from Hinako's perspective, but I now believe it can also be applied to Shiori's point of view. After all, humans throughout yokai folklore reciprocate Shiori's hunger with their own lust for the immortality granted by mermaid flesh. There were surely times when they hunted Shiori for this purpose, and that's arguably more despicable than Shiori seeking sustenance. Moreover, is it not monstrous to abandon the weak in times of famine and hardship? Shiori explains that she had no family to abandon or be abandoned by, but I can't imagine she looked fondly at the humans who threw their starving children into that cove. She probably regarded them like herself, as shrewd and opportunistic predators—rival monsters, in other words.

Nonetheless, the unnamed girl completely rearranges Shiori's worldview. The audience has to read between the lines during these flashbacks because Shiori editorializes her memories a lot. I doubt she realizes the extent to which she does so. But the truth is that, for the first time, Shiori felt affection towards another being. The girl, like Hinako, was not just food to her. Shiori loved her without knowing how to love someone else. Naturally, this meant their relationship was a disaster. I could be reading too much into this, especially since we are never privy to the girl's interiority, but let's filter it through the lens of a (relatively) normal courtship. Shiori, mature but emotionally stunted, attempts a healthy romance with a younger woman, utterly fails at that, and abruptly walks out, leaving the woman with psychological scars she can't get rid of. The woman, in turn, sinks into her darkest thoughts and becomes obsessive, seeking closure until the two reunite for a fiery breakup (in this case, a literal explosion). That's a powerful, toxic yuri arc in itself, and if we look at it that way, it makes sense why Shiori might be inclined to gloss over it.

In the aftermath, Shiori turns introspective. With her singular attempt at romance blowing up in her face, she recommits herself to the belief that she can never exist as a part of the world around her. She is a foreign object—always the observer and never the participant. But this is her coping to avoid the arduous task of improving herself. The truth is that the girl's rejection confused and hurt her. Shiori gave her the most precious gift she could think of, and the girl twisted it and used it for revenge. Shiori tried something different, and it almost killed her. Therefore, drifting under the ocean was Shiori's attempt to be as small a part of the world as possible, and that's analogous to how Hinako processed her own grief. They both shut down.

The young Hinako, however, contradicts every one of Shiori's impulses. While Shiori drifts, Hinako moves with purpose. While Shiori thinks of eating, Hinako thinks of feeding. While Shiori believes humans only ever want to eat or worship her, Hinako finds her beautiful and worthy of care. Additionally, I like this sequence because it distinguishes healing somebody and fixing them. Hinako nurses Shiori back to health, but Shiori still finds her thoughts drifting to images of meat and gore. She sees Hinako's innocent radiance and, subconsciously, focuses on her own inner darkness to distance herself. She can't stop herself from returning the favor with another gift, but she makes sure it's a smaller one. After all, she doesn't want a repeat of her last relationship. But this act of self-preservation is also an act of self-hatred. Shiori erases Hinako's memories of her because she believes Hinako's presence is inherently corrosive. She rejects the world because she fears it will otherwise reject her.

Unfortunately, dramatic irony strikes yet again, turning Shiori's gift into a poison pill that dulls the radiance she tried to preserve. But let's look at it another way. Nobody makes it from childhood to adulthood unscathed. Shiori projected an impossible wish onto Hinako, and that wasn't fair to either of them. When it inevitably failed, they both internalized and took the blame for it. That didn't happen right away; when Shiori finds Hinako again, she befriends her in an effort to learn more about what happened to her old companion. I think Shiori genuinely wanted to help. But when Hinako confirms that she viewed her survival as a curse rather than a blessing, it breaks Shiori's heart and makes her clam up again. She had ruined everything again. She rejects Hinako's friendlier advances and inquiries, instead resigning herself to a more remote role as protector and savior. It was a lie meant to keep the two of them safe from each other, but it also enabled Shiori's old avoidant habits.

As Miko astutely points out, Shiori has never tried to have an open, reciprocal conversation with Hinako, i.e., the most emotionally intelligent path forward for both women. Seriously, Miko is such a breath of fresh air here. It's cute that Shiori felt comfortable enough around her to communicate all of this. And Miko, despite her own feelings for Hinako, recognizes Shiori's effort and reciprocates with genuinely helpful advice. Miko is clearly the smartest of the trio. Shiori needs to heed her advice, too, for her sake and for Hinako's. It won't solve everything right away, of course. Hinako has a decade's worth of grief and suicidal ideation to work through, and Shiori has centuries of coping mechanisms propping up her emotional barrier. I'm sure This Monster has no shortage of lesbian angst to dish out in the future. But we can only get there if our leads learn how to be vulnerable around each other.

While I don't want to repeat myself too much, I do want to say I'm very thankful I stuck with This Monster Wants to Eat Me. Granted, I didn't have much of a choice as its designated reviewer, but it's satisfying to watch a narrative finally hit its stride. I'm fully invested in these disaster girls now, and Shiori has instantly skyrocketed to the top of my favorites. Maybe that's narcissistic of me because I relate to her the most. But I think I'm lucky to have another flawed yet aspirational female presence in my life, even/especially if she's a frightening, oversized, and man-eating monster.

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This Monster Wants to Eat Me is currently streaming on Crunchyroll.

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