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Ao no Hako—the series that seems to believe every tired, insipid trope is somehow fresh just because it’s served with a side of exaggerated cuteness and completely improbable “accidents.” This show, with its hollow attempts at “romantic charm,” utterly insults the viewer’s intelligence by handing out cliché after cliché as if it's handing out gold. It’s astonishing this anime even garnered a high rating, which either tells us something has gone horribly wrong with viewers' standards or the developers have mastered some dark alchemical way of summoning good ratings from thin air.

The lead character’s journey is pure manufactured fluff. Imagine every “accidental” encounter with a ... love interest you’ve ever seen—and then imagine them executed with even less finesse, if that’s even possible. We’ve got the “accidental hit” scene with a ball, a setup so artificial it’s shocking. And then the apology? Even more manufactured. Does anyone really believe an apology that neat, that perfectly timed, just happens? She apologizes, there’s blushing, there’s faux “sincerity,” and the forced “romantic” moment feels about as natural as a boulder in a rose garden. It’s cheap. And while some shows elevate tropes, Ao no Hako just recycles them to oblivion.

Even worse, the way it tries to be cute through absurdly scripted moments like the “forgive me” scene and the ultra-convenient chocolate offering just reeks of pandering. It’s a high-stakes game of dressing up forced interactions in an attempt to package them as endearing—something that only shines a spotlight on the lack of original thought behind this show.

Let’s talk about one of Ao no Hako’s most forced developments yet: the absurdly convenient “sleepover” scenario. She ends up staying over at his house, a setup so painfully transparent in its attempt to fabricate romantic tension that it’s almost insulting. Rather than crafting a genuine emotional buildup, the writers drop her right into the protagonist’s home under an absurdly convenient excuse. It’s the equivalent of pushing two dolls together and calling it chemistry.

Here’s the kicker: the show doesn’t even try to mask its predictability with nuance. This “spending the night” move is pulled straight out of the cookie-cutter playbook. The unearned intimacy, the forced proximity—it all screams, “Look, they’re bound to fall for each other now!” But here’s the truth: authentic connection doesn’t emerge from convenience; it emerges from well-developed characters and real emotional stakes.

This sleepover trope might have some charm if it were handled with creativity or depth. But instead, Ao no Hako delivers it with all the subtlety of a hammer to the head, making it just one more eye-roll-inducing, predictable beat in a story that’s already oversaturated with contrivances.

The creators of Ao no Hako missed an opportunity to craft characters who actually develop and grow. Instead, the show is an echo chamber of romance tropes done to death: the convenient accidents, the saccharine exchanges, and the empty, predictable gestures. Each forced moment digs a deeper hole, driving home that this series isn’t interested in offering real storytelling—just a thinly veiled parade of “cute” moments that don’t carry an ounce of weight.

In short, Ao no Hako doesn’t just rely on overused tropes; it leans on them so heavily that it turns a potentially engaging romance into a bland, by-the-numbers spectacle.

Thanks for reading.

Alright, let's dive into Alya Sometimes Hides Her Feelings—a romcom that checks some of the genre's boxes and with a main character who’s about as motivated as a sloth on a Sunday afternoon.

First off, the show is nothing groundbreaking at all (to put it mildly), but it does manage to keep things entertaining (you have to bear a little). We’ve got the usual setup minus a lazy written MC and useless characters, the MC who somehow ends up in a will-they-won't-they situation with the school’s “miss perfect” character, Alya; is Actually a mystery, and I don't mean that in a good way at all. He ... is just a random character who was just chosen against the universe will to be the MC and just the luck managed to keep him functioning.

The plot? Well, it's standard romcom fare. The MC somehow manages to get along with Alya despite barely lifting a finger, which, honestly, makes you wonder if he’s got some secret charisma or if Alya just has a soft spot for human-sized doorstops. The story leans heavily on their playful banter, and while it’s fun to watch, you can’t help but think that if this guy put half the effort into, I don’t know, existing as a normal human being, the whole romance thing would be a lot easier.

But credit where it’s due—the side characters, the random people on the street, Alya some-times cute behavior and the overall vibe of the show are good enough to justify wasting your time if you got some to waste.

Visually, the anime holds up well, and the music does a decent job of setting the tone. The fan service is there, but it’s not overwhelming—unless you’re into feet, in which case, congratulations, you’re eating well.

Not my thing. I guess Origaru raised the bar for me.