The Love of an Anime

I realized this morning that the way I feel about Death Note could best be described as romantic affection. As embarrassing as it is to put this into words, it’s simply the best language I have to define my complete obsession with the show. I have now had three nights of dreams set in the world of Kira, and am leaping over my couch to get to the next chapter whenever the previous one comes to an end.

Relax, I’m not going to redesign my website or start cosplaying as Ryuk. I don’t feel ownership of the characters, nor do I feel like I know more about the show than anyone else. But I’m in love with Death Note and my heart flutters like I’m going on a great date.

So it is with shattering disappointment that I announce that the last four episodes have sucked. I feel let down. I’m depressed. I want this show to keep surprising me, but as of this moment (E20) it has devolved into standard anime fare, with cute girls and absurd plots. Gone is the gripping, patient detective story. And now I have to wait a week before I see what the writer has in store. With the last hour-twenty being so mediocre, I’m not even that excited about the next reveal.

I hope the show gets great again, but as of right now it’s just another anime. I’m losing faith.