Clinging

Dearest Rachel –

I hardly have to explain Azumanga Daioh to you; while it could be argued that there’s not all that much to explain, the slice-of-life anime about a group of quirky girls thrown together (apart from Yomi and Tomo, whose otherwise inexplicable friendship predates their enrollment in the setting we encounter them) and going through their high school years is well familiar to you. And despite the oddities possessed by each of the main characters, they generally tend to be sufficiently down-to-earth that any viewer could easily recognize themselves and/or their own classmates among the ensemble.

The manga, as well as the subsequent anime (which is pushing its quarter-century mark, as unbelievable as that may seem) is done in a style more akin to Western comic strips, as opposed to the ‘graphic novel’ approach introduced to the West by, and prevalent throughout, Asian manga and manhwa. Rather than a continuous story (or rather, a series of stories, since each character gets their days in the limelight and interactions with the others), the whole thing is a series of short four-panel vignettes, often with their own short punch lines. It’s very much like Peanuts for the anime crowd, complete with the kids displaying wisdom amid their adolescent folly (although not to the same extent as the likes of Linus and Charlie Brown; the Azumanga girls’ anxieties are more having to do with getting through student and social life than existential crises).

But while Bowling For Soup may have a point…

…high school, as a specific time of one’s life, does eventually come to an end, and it is at that point that the curtain is drawn upon the series and its characters, regardless of how beloved they may be for their audience. Graduation comes, and the six (well, seven, if you consider the hapless Kaori, who winds up separated from the others in a different class for their senior year, with a teacher that, let’s just say, isn’t to her liking, and leave it at that) friends gathered by circumstance are to go their separate ways.

It’s made light of by the fact that the flightiest of the group, a girl named Ayumu who everyone refers to as ‘Osaka’ due to having transferred in during the first few weeks of their mutual freshman year (despite actually being from Wakayama, which would be like someone from Joliet or Aurora being called ‘Chicago’ by their classmates after moving to the next state over in any particular direction. Then again, I had to claim the city as my home even while in college in the middle of my home state, so maybe it’s not that strange; then again, I didn’t get saddled with that geographic nickname) bringing a box of tissues with her to the graduation assembly. Granted, she does so due to her hay fever allergies (which never appeared in the story until then, despite having cycled through several springs already throughout the course of the series), but it proves far more useful with the young prodigy, Chiyo, begins to cry as they sing the school song. It’s at that moment that the realization that this is the end of their story together hits her full force, and she collapses in a blubbering mess, and which point, Osaka offers her her box of tissues, which she soaks through.

It’s at this juncture that I was seeing the girls as part of a dream last night. It was at that moment when they broke the fourth wall and bowed toward the audience in thanks for having kept up with them throughout their high school careers. I can’t say that I felt myself being part of the tableau as such, but at the same time, I found myself clinging to Osaka in particular as the girls turned to depart, not wanting her – or any of the others – to leave just yet. I wasn’t crying like Chiyo had been – in fact, I couldn’t make a sound, as it wasn’t clear as to whether it was actually me interacting with her, or if I was taking the point of view of some other nameless classmate (presumably a boy, but considering they barely existed in the manga other than as background characters, I can’t imagine where one would have come from) – but I was similarly upset about their impending departure, which, for all her apparent flightiness, even Osaka could pick up on.

Her gaze softened, and in that mild Southern drawl that’s meant to represent the Kansai dialect, murmured “Ah cain’t move on iff’n y’don’t let go a’me.” It was not a matter of wanting to or not; she recognized that it was time to go, and go they must, and by clinging to her like I was, I was impeding the flow of progress. She was polite enough about it, but also firm, as she took my hands in hers and brought them between the two of us. Still clasping them in front of her, she smiled and bowed, and which point she let go of them to turn around and catch up with the rest of her friends, fading into nothingness along with them as she did.

It wasn’t long before I broke the surface of consciousness, and lay there wondering whether my dream had even been about Azumanga in the first place, or if it meant something more than that. Not that dreams have to, of course, as we’ve discussed before, but the moral of this one seems clearer than most. And even as I’m writing this to you, I have to ask; am I holding onto you too tightly? Do I need to let go of you more? I mean, you’ve moved on whether I let you or not, but maybe I need to move on, and this was a roundabout way of letting me know that?

Then again, writing things down – whether to you or the internet at large – is a good way for me to remember what I’ve been through, and I’m only sorry I didn’t record more of my life to look back on now. Still, does this process – which takes no small amount of time – cut into my ability to appreciate life as it happens? I really don’t know, honey, and I wish I could bounce these questions off of you… or someone.

Until I do, though, I’m going to keep writing to you about it all, even if it does prevent that someone from showing up (or worse, being recognized). But if you could keep an eye on me, and wish me luck (and maybe give me a nudge now and then if you think I need it), I’d sure appreciate it. After all, I’m probably going to need it.