After one measly opening scene to remind us Ruby does still exist, Akane takes Aqua on a date to a Stage Around theater. Aqua isn’t easily impressed, but he must admit that the innovative technology used to augment the stage play experience was at least 50 times more entertaining than he expected.
With each word of praise about the venue and the play, Akane grows happier: Aqua gets it, just like she knew he would. But the performance doesn’t just open his eyes to the potential of the play they’ll be in, but the impossibility that Samejima Abiko will be able to write a script that will utilize such a venue.
Aqua knows Raida can only do so much as producer to persuade an original creator backed by a massive publisher. But he does know one person who might be able to convince Abiko-sensei to meet the producers (and GOA) halfway: her senpai, Yoriko. Aqua arranges for Akane, Kana, Melt and himself to meet with her.
Alas, once the subject of being a go-between to talk reason to Abiko comes up, Yoriko apologizes, for she doesn’t think she’ll be able to help them. She’d be lying if she said she thought the adaptation of Sweet Today met her standards, and even if she thought it proper to talk to Abiko about backing off, Abiko has surpassed her so quickly and so fully, she wouldn’t listen to her anyway.
But that night, Yoriko ends up doing Aqua’s bidding anyway, as she finds Abiko living in squalor, barely sleeping or eating, and behind a deadline. All her assistants either quit or were fired for not meeting her exacting standards, but Yoriko warns Abiko that the standards she’s hewing to are far too much for one human to withstand. If she keeps this up, it will kill her.
Part of Abiko knows this, but the pressure to pursue perfection each and every week lest her audience abandon her presses down on her like an elephant. When Yoriko volunteers to help out as her assistant for the night, the two get into a heated exchange. Abiko plays the “I’m more successful” card, as expected, but is surprised to find that if neither of them are holding back, Yoriko has plenty of ammunition to work with.
Even as they shout and snipe at each other, they get the work done. As they lie on the ground absolutely exhausted, Abiko thanks her senpai and apologizes for being so nasty. Yoriko warns her that anyone other than her friend would leave her immediately if she said such things, and impresses upon her the importance of proper communication and meeting people halfway. It’s the only way things like theater productions happen. Abiko can’t do it all.
Aqua also asked Yoriko to give Abiko something when she met with her. It turns out to be a ticket to the same show that opened his eyes about the promise of Stage Around productions. If Abiko will never accept advice from anyone who sells fewer copies, perhaps by watching the kind of production for she wishes to write the script, she too will have her eyes opened, not just to how to properly write a theatrical adaptation, but whether it’s better to keep someone like GOA on board, who knows the territory.
In short, this is more like it. I felt initially unmoored by the sudden appearance and domination of the show by Abiko, but the more time I’ve spent more time with her and Yoriko, the more I’m liking their inclusion in the story as Oshi no Ko delves into the often brutal world of manga artists, the most successful of which must always walk the line between flawed human and perfect machine.
