It’s cute to see how excited Teshima gets when she plays the role of a veteran with all the tips, tricks, and plain ol’ good etiquette. She also mentally prepares her students for passersby who won’t even turn to look at their booth. It’s good to calibrate your expectations properly. This isn’t some fairy tale where an editor from a renowned publishing company takes notice and signs the girls to a megadeal… it’s not, right? I hope the show stays grounded — optimistic, cheerful, but grounded. Rome wasn’t built in a day and all that.
After Teshima helps the girl set up, she starts walking the convention floor. She can’t help but reminisce. As we already know, she only managed to sell a single book out of the 1,000 that she printed. Naturally, she daydreamed about marrying her sole customer. Well, her personal experience at Comitia might not have been rosy, but she can ensure that her students have a good time. Isn’t that what life’s all about? Ensuring that future generations have it better than you? Too bad this is a moral imperative a lot older folks have chosen to blithely ignore.
Watching Teshima receive rejection after rejection, it feels like she never absorbed any of the feedback. She would be pitying herself in her head while the editor basically fired off critiques into the ether. Don’t force the narrative. Try improving your art. Maybe study under a veteran. All good tips. And yet, Teshima made a face as if these were the last things she wanted to hear. And I get it. I’ve been there. When you’re getting bad news, the world around you just kinda falls away. Your mind drifts off even though you’re physically present. It’s likely a defense mechanism. That’s why you have to fight to stay in the moment and really listen.
Or, y’know, she could’ve just gone to another publisher. Why didn’t she? Solicit a second opinion. Or a third. Get more feedback. That’s the other thing that puzzles me: why was she so hellbent on impressing this one editor lady only to then turn around and say, “Sorry. Your comments don’t interest me one bit?” Like hell they don’t! All she ever did was try to get this woman’s approval. Did this obsession also have a hand in Teshima’s stagnation? Maybe this editor just wasn’t right for her. I’m not saying that the woman was bad at her job, but sometimes your message just doesn’t reach the other person. But Teshima was stubborn. It’s the classic case of “We’ve tried nothing and we’re all outta ideas!”
Teshima perked up when the editor name-dropped Hebichika-sensei, i.e. Teshima’s idol. But then our little trip down memory lane gets cut short. All we see next is shots of her in despair, and someone — Teshima herself? — tossing her phone into the ocean. So what happened? Is this one of those classic “never meet your heroes” scenarios? Or did Teshima screw this opportunity up on her own? Ah well, I guess this will be a story for another day, another episode.
Back at the booth, the girls start feeling bad as they see their neighbors sell out of books. Hey now, comparison is the thief of joy. Plus, you don’t know their stories. Your neighbors might have been at this for years and years. I’m sure they didn’t start out selling their works like hot cakes either. Anyway, our girls do finally meet their first customer, which brings Ai and Kokoro to tears. Sachi even comes back at just the right time to share in the moment. I’m glad she didn’t miss it. Huge contrast from Teshima’s depressing flashbacks, though.
When it’s Ai’s turn to make the rounds, she sure does get the full convention experience. She even gets pressured into buying a book. Maybe she could borrow this girl’s tactics. In the end, Ai couldn’t even pay Hikaru’s booth a visit, because the latter had already sold out. Well lah di dah, someone’s famous.
Ai returns to her club’s booth to learn that they’ve sold two now! Does that mean they’ve already beaten Teshima? Still no sales for Ai’s solo manga, though. It really looked like Teshima thought about buying a copy only to pull back when the rest of the club returned. To be fair, the art is pretty rough, and Ai isn’t oblivious enough to ignore that fact. Maybe we could see her go on a training arc of sorts with a veteran — y’know, the same opportunity that was offered to Teshima. It almost looked like the same girl who pressured Ai into buying her book would also become Ai’s first customer. Alas…
With ten minutes left in the event, Teshima’s old editor — literally old now with grey hair — walks up and greets everyone. She then reads through the samples. Kinda. She merely glances at Ai’s solo manga. She ultimately decides to buy the club’s book but not Ai’s. She doesn’t mince words with the girls either: “Pro or not, if you’re going to publish a book, treat it with the gravity it deserves. Once you release a good book, I’ll be sure to buy it.” Ma’am, I understand that you’re a pro, but these are children. Like, literally children. First year high schoolers. I’m not saying she’s wrong. Ai’s art is like chicken scratch, and everyone keeps telling her that her narratives have no structure. But Teshima’s former editor didn’t give any specific critique. She just said it wasn’t good enough to buy. That’s not really helpful, especially considering how she used to give Teshima constructive feedback. And I get it, this is casual, one-off encounter during the last few minutes of a convention. Ai isn’t in her office, hoping to get feedback from an industry veteran. But again… these are kids.
Not wanting Ai to end up the same way as herself, Teshima gets fired up and slams down a coin. She finally decides to buy a copy of Ai’s solo manga. I guess from a cynical point-of-view, you could call this pity. But at the end of the day, it’s what Ai takes away from this, and she fell in love with manga thanks to reading Teshima’s work. Your own teacher and idol supporting you? Yeah, I don’t think the pity label applies anymore. And before you know it, Ai sells out to, well, her own club members. I know I said earlier that I hope the show stays grounded. This ending is a bit schmaltzy — and I still think it would’ve been worse if she magically sold out normally, i.e. to regular customers — but her own friends and teacher being her biggest fans? I think that’s fine. But just to focus on Teshima since the first half of this episode was all about her, what’s that old adage again? If you can’t do, teach? It’s a bit mean, but is it wrong? Teshima can’t change the past, but she can get rid of her regrets by helping her students draw a better future.
Stray thoughts & observations:
— Girl, why are you printing your book at the last second? It’s her solo manga, but still.
— Aw man, they even get cute printed t-shirts for the occasion. This will become a cherished memory that they look back on later in life.
— Comitia officially begins at 11am on the dot, so everyone joins in by giving a round of applause. Eh, I’m not a clapper. Starting an event is not clap-worthy. Landing a plane is not clap-worthy. Finishing a good movie at the theaters is not clap-worthy.
— Sachi says she’s going to advertise their booth while making the rounds, but I bet she’s just going to goof off and read more manga.
— I’ve never been to any convention of any sort unless it was for work. They’re expensive, I would have to make an overnight trip to another city, so on and so forth. I mean, Fanime in San Jose isn’t that far away from where I live (relatively speaking), but eh… I just keep pushing it off. “Maybe one day…” type energy. It’d probably be a lot of fun with friends, but my real life friends aren’t into, well, any of my hobbies (anime, video games, etc). They’re mega normies.
— You notice how the only male characters we get to hear speak are the characters’ dads? There are other guys in the background, but they play no major role in the story. It’s kinda weird when an anime or manga series does this. Yes, yes, some are worse than bears, but they’re not all bad.
— I wonder what the editor thought in this moment — what she thought of Teshima’s gesture. I also wonder if we’ll see her again in the present timeline.
— Well, you missed your chance, girl. People have got to stop being tsundere. It’s so overrated.
