Hanazawa manages to combine all three elements, however, in a tightly-knit tale using humour, pathos, drama and wrapping it all in a slightly stinging rebuke of otaku-dom and their retreat from reality into the world of moe dating sims.
Watching Takuro and Tsukiko’s clumsy courtship is sweet, but entirely fake - she’s nothing more than a program, whilst he is an attractive and unreal facsimile of himself. Hanazawa reminds us of this, dragging us back into reality with some effectively used cut-scenes. In the best example of this, we are shown Takuro hugging a sobbing Tsukiko, as she wails about how alone she was before he came. “Don’t worry,” he says, “you’re not alone.” Immediately, we cut back to his bedroom and are confronted with fat, slovenly Takuro hugging thin air.
In stark contrast to their VR personas, all of the characters in this tale are generally crude, vulgar, shallow and generally unlikable. This is reflected in the character design, which really highlights everybody’s worst features. I’d go as far as to say that even Tsukiko, the love interest, barely passes for cute, compared to standard manga and anime definitions of moe. Despite all this, Hanazawa weaves a tight, complex, not-quite-subtle story, which will leave you with the feeling that no matter how much of a loser you think Takuro is, you really do want him to get the girl in the end.
Overall, it’s a refreshing, funny, albeit somewhat scathing, take on familiar themes and worth tracking down.
