Not quite the Nirvana baby, huh? But alright, it’s a new season, so let’s see what has changed. Surely, a lot has changed, right? Well…

— Abuse is funny, part one.

— Kousei doesn’t want to play the song that Kaori had picked out for them, and you’ll find out why in just a short bit. I mean, there’s really only one explanation, and it’s a rather predictable one. Nevertheless, Kaori doesn’t budge, because she has to have it her way. Man, there sure is a lot of teamwork in this partnership!

— Kaori later wonders why Kousei is reluctant to perform “Love’s Sorrow.” Can you guess why? Can you? Yep, that dead, abusive witch is back! Yaaaaay! Nothing really changes. Kousei is still traumatized. What? Did you really think a corny ass smile at the end of some performance would undo years and years of systematic abuse?

— Yeah, um, I wouldn’t make that claim.

— Hiroko then claims that Kousei’s singular act of defiance actually pleased his mother. Uh, I don’t know about that. That sounds a bit like revisionist history. That also sounds a bit like someone trying to push a certain agenda. It’s pretty obvious that Hiroko wants Kousei to live up to his piano-playing potential. As such, I wouldn’t necessarily trust that she’s being entirely truthful. Maybe she isn’t trying to deliberately lie to the kid, but I certainly think she has rose-colored glasses on since she used to be such good friends with the kid’s mother.

— And again, the story’s priority is all wrong. Our protagonist wonders if he can ever atone for his sins, and in response to that, Hiroko encourages him to keep playing the piano so that he can hear his mother’s voice again. Again, I don’t have a problem with him playing the piano. But why should he be forgiven? What the fuck has he done wrong? He’s the one who was abused. What on earth does he have to apologize for? For trying to forget his toxic, abusive mother? What on earth is wrong with that? This show, man.

— Hmmmmmmmmmmm.

— Abuse is funny, part two.

— The “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” duet was pretty cringeworthy.

— Kousei finally meets Kaori’s parents, and they get fed a bunch of caeki. And apparently, her parents know all about him. He’s a veritable super star in the competition world. But yeah, caeki. These shows are full of tropes in their own way.

— Abuse is funny, part three.

— I mean, what would people think if the genders are reversed? Oh, I’m not saying arguing that guys should be able to hit girls. I just want to know why we can’t stop being asses to each other. C’mon, stop hitting people and thinking that it’s funny.

— A friend wonders if Kaori and Kousei are on the music college track. After all, they’re not taking summer school and studying super mad to past all those exams like everyone else. Kaori confesses that she’s not thinking about the future. It’s just more foreshadowing that, well, she probably doesn’t have a future. Y’know, her illness and whatever. That doesn’t excuse her selfish behavior, but hey!

— In any case, it’s not something that Kousei is currently aware of. Instead, he continues to have a defeatist attitude about his love life.

— Abuse is funny, part four.

— Yeah, Kousei! Your childhood “friend” is right! Why did you have to drown and inconvenience her?!

— Holy shit, how can you write a line like this and not laugh at how pretentious it sounds?

— So the day of the gala concert has finally arrived, and Emi is being her usual tsundere self. The story is sneakily harem-like. Or maybe harem conventions have become so commonplace in anime stories that we no longer raise an eyebrow at them when they crop in places that they don’t belong. I mean, why is it that a story about a traumatized piano player also seems to have all three of the major female characters as a potential love interest?

— Somehow, Kaori’s a no show. They’re trying desperately to reach the girl on her cell, but she’s not picking up. Hiroko tries to ask if one of the performers would be willing to go on stage before Kousei and Kaori are suppoesd to play, but haha, look at this kid’s response:

He then goes on to say, “Her playing’s such a mess, no wonder her lifestyle’s all messed up too.” Good lord, this story is ridiculously over the top. It’s about possibilities or impossibilities. It’s about… tone, I suppose. And the story’s tone is laughably melodramatic.

— Anyway, Kousei is emboldened to show up the kid, so he claims that the spotlight will belong to him and Kaori instead. Yeah, you said it, man! Stand up for yourself! I just wish you could stand up for yourself more often, and not just to little kids that are deliberately portrayed as megadweebs.

— Anyway, Kousei takes the stage by himself. Unfortunately, we’ll have to wait until next week’s episode before we can see if he’ll really have to perform all by his lonesome.