Very interesting to me that a certain subset of the BES fandom's favourite iterations of Mizu and Akemi are seemingly rooted in the facades they have projected towards the world, and are not accurate representations of their true selves.
And I see this is especially the case with Mizu, where fanon likes to paint her as this dominant, hyper-masculine, smirking Cool GuyTM who's going to give you her strap. And this idea of Mizu is often based on the image of her wearing her glasses, and optionally, with her cloak and big, wide-brimmed kasa.
And what's interesting about this, to me, is that fanon is seemingly falling for her deliberate disguise. Because the glasses (with the optional combination of cloak and hat) represent Mizu's suppression of her true self. She is playing a role.
Take this scene of Mizu in the brothel in Episode 4 for example. Here, not only is Mizu wearing her glasses to symbolise the mask she is wearing, but she is purposely acting like some suave and cocky gentleman, intimidating, calm, in control. Her voice is even deeper than usual, like what we hear in her first scene while facing off with Hachiman the Flesh-Trader in Episode 1.
This act that Mizu puts on is an embodiment of masculine showboating, which is highly effective against weak and insecure men like Hachi, but also against women like those who tried to seduce her at the Shindo House.
And that brings me to how Mizu's mask is actually a direct parallel to Akemi's mask in this very same scene.
Here, Akemi is also putting up an act, playing up her naivety and demure girlishness, using her high-pitched lilted voice, complimenting Mizu and trying to make small talk, all so she can seduce and lure Mizu in to drink the drugged cup of sake.
So what I find so interesting and funny about this scene, characters within it, and the subsequent fandom interpretations of both, is that everyone seems to literally be falling for the mask that Mizu and Akemi are putting up to conceal their identities, guard themselves from the world, and get what they want.
It's also a little frustrating because the fanon seems to twist what actually makes Mizu and Akemi's dynamic so interesting by flattening it completely. Because both here and throughout the story, Mizu and Akemi's entire relationship and treatment of each other is solely built off of masks, assumptions, and misconceptions.
Akemi believes Mizu is a selfish, cocky male samurai who destroyed her ex-fiance's career and life, and who abandoned her to let her get dragged away by her father's guards and forcibly married off to a man she didn't know. on the other hand, Mizu believes Akemi is bratty, naive princess who constantly needs saving and who can't make her own decisions.
These misconceptions are even evident in the framing of their first impressions of each other, both of which unfold in these slow-motion POV shots.
Mizu's first impression of Akemi is that of a beautiful, untouchable princess in a cage. Swirling string music in the background.
Akemi's first impression of Mizu is of a mysterious, stoic "demon" samurai who stole her fiance's scarf. Tense music and the sound of ocean waves in the background.
And then, going back to that scene of them together in Episode 4, both Mizu and Akemi continue to fool each other and hold these assumptions of each other, and they both feed into it, as both are purposely acting within the suppressive roles society binds them to in order to achieve their goals within the means they are allowed (Akemi playing the part of a subservient woman; Mizu playing the part of a dominant man).
But then, for once in both their lives, neither of their usual tactics work.
Akemi is trying to use flattery and seduction on Mizu, but Mizu sees right through it, knowing that Akemi is just trying to manipulate and harm her. Rather than give in to Akemi's tactics, Mizu plays with Akemi's emotions by alluding to Taigen's death, before pinning her down, and then when she starts crying, Mizu just rolls her eyes and tells her to shut up.
On the opposite end, when Mizu tries to use brute force and intimidation, Akemi also sees right through it, not falling for it, and instead says this:
"Under your mask, you're not the killer you pretend to be."
Nonetheless, despite the fact that they see a little bit through each other's masks, they both still hold their presumptions of each other until the very end of the season, with Akemi seeing Mizu as an obnoxious samurai swooping in to save the day, and Mizu seeing Akemi as a damsel in distress.
And what I find a bit irksome is that the fandom also resorts to flattening them to these tropes as well.
Because Mizu is not some cool, smooth-talking samurai with a big dick sword as Akemi (and the fandom) might believe. All of that is the facade she puts up and nothing more. In reality, Mizu is an angry, confused and lonely child, and a masterful artist, who is struggling against her own self-hatred. Master Eiji, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.
And Akemi, on the other hand, is not some girly, sweet, vain and spoiled princess as Mizu might believe. Instead she has never cared for frivolous things like fashion, love or looks, instead favouring poetry and strategy games instead, and has always only cared about her own independence. Seki, her father figure who knows her best, knows this.
But neither is she some authoritative dominatrix, though this is part of her new persona that she is trying to project to get what she wants. Because while Akemi is willful, outspoken, intelligent and authoritative, she can still be naive! She is still often unsure and needs to have her hand held through things, as she is still learning and growing into her full potential. Her new parental/guardian figure, Madame Kaji, knows this as well.
So with all that being said, now that we know that Mizu and Akemi are essentially wearing masks and putting up fronts throughout the show, what would a representation of Mizu's and Akemi's true selves actually look like? Easy. It's in their hair.
This shot on the left is the only time we see Mizu with her hair completely down. In this scene, she's being berated by Mama, and her guard is completely down, she has no weapon, and is no longer wearing any mask, as this is after she showed Mikio "all of herself" and tried to take off the mask of a subservient housewife. Thus, here, she is sad, vulnerable, and feeling small (emphasised further by the framing of the scene). This is a perfect encapsulation of what Mizu is on the inside, underneath all the layers of revenge-obsession and the walls she's put around herself.
In contrast, the only time we Akemi with her hair fully down, she is completely alone in the bath, and this scene takes place after being scorned by her father and left weeping at his feet. But despite all that, Akemi is headstrong, determined, taking the reigns of her life as she makes the choice to run away, but even that choice is reflective of her youthful naivety. She even gets scolded by Seki shortly after this in the next scene, because though she wants to be independent, she still hasn't completely learned to be. Not yet. Regardless, her decisiveness and moment of self-empowerment is emphasised by the framing of the scene, where her face takes up the majority of the shot, and she stares seriously into the middle distance.
To conclude, I wish popular fanon would stop mischaracterising these two, and flattening them into tropes and stereotypes (ie. masculine badass swordsman Mizu and feminine alluring queen but also girly swooning damsel Akemi), all of which just seems... reductive. It also irks me when Akemi is merely upheld as a love interest and romantic device for Mizu and nothing more, when she is literally Mizu's narrative foil (takes far more narrative precedence over romantic interest) and the deuteragonist of this show. She is her own person. That is literally the theme of her entire character and arc.
662 notes
·
View notes
“kazuha would hate scaramouche.”
do you really think that kazuha’s story quest being about the whole “i’d rather see him recognise and atone for his mistakes that see him punished for them” was a coincidence? or how we were helping kazuha put together bits and pieces about his ancestry? or how scara spared kazuha's relative during the fall of the raiden gokaden upon noticing kaedehara yoshinori’s appearance and his connection to the niwa clan? niwa whom scara called: my family… my friend.
kazuha wouldn’t hate scaramouche because accepting the past and moving on is such an important part of his character. in his story quest he says: "but to make this arduous journey, you committed countless atrocities, and showed a blatant disregard for human life. even if you were to sever that divine light, is this truly the outcome your maker would have desired? […] this person (blade) has committed unforgivable atrocities but only because it lost its original master. no one was there to correct its errors when it was losing its way." tell me this could not easily be applied to scara. kazuha has demonstrated this incredible capacity for forgiveness countless time. (for example: his voice line about raiden; “do i simply resent the raiden shogun because of what happened in that duel? […] i’ve thought about this a good long time, and i believe the answer is no.” and later on he only talks about his “dissatisfaction” with her. he never uses the word hate.)
when kazuha found out what happened during the fall of the raiden gokaden he said: “knowing the truth behind what happened is enough for me, […] that being said, if the enemy from all those years ago is still lurking and plotting to stir up more trouble, then i definitely won’t turn a blind eye.” — while he put what happened in the past behind him, if kunikuzushi/scara were to pose a threat in the present kazuha would act because he believes that: “what’s most important for each person is not the past, but the present.”
look i completely understand that some people just don’t enjoy the ship and that is totally understandable but saying kazuha would hate scara is just not true to his character.
448 notes
·
View notes
Fushiguro Megumi, Shadow seen through the lens of Zen Buddhism:
[wherever there is light, there is shadow; wherever there is length, there is shortness; wherever there is white, there is black. just like these, as the self-nature of things can not exist alone, they are called non-substantial. - buddha]
➠ Megumi & the illusion of I and not I:
Within Zen philosophy, shadows are often interpreted as elements of mystery, the unknown, and impermanence, and represent the veiled aspects of existence that transcend human understanding. Much like impermanence, they are ever-shifting and constantly changing, mirroring the transient nature of life itself. At the same time, shadows are inseparable from light and their interplay reflects the interconnections and interdependencies of all things.
It is no different when it comes to a self. The shadow is not separate from a self, it is the very idea of a self.
It is important to note that Buddhism rejects the notion that the self is a permanently existing unchanging individual entity and sees the concept of self, ego, as a product of consciousness, which arises in a sentient being as part of the process of living i.e. consciousness itself is, at any moment in time, dependent on many things that are always changing, and consciousness itself is always changing, hence so too does the conceived self (when I use the term ‘self’ from here on, I am referring to the ‘conceived self’).
Another important thing to note is that Buddhism transcends dualistic concepts such as ‘Good vs. Evil’. It is the heart of Buddhism that Enlightenment sets one free from such false dichotomies, and from the cycle of suffering altogether.
However, when the Shadow, the unknown self, is not integrated into the self as a whole, one fails to recognise the non-dual nature of existence and may end up with a sense of ‘Goodness’ or ‘Rightness’. You separate the world as you separate the self, to attain gain from defining yourself and the world in a dualistic way. We see Megumi separate the world as such, the Good and the Bad or the Right and the Wrong. He integrates his entire sense of justice into the concept that helps him navigate the world in the most convenient way for him. He does not confront himself nor his ideals (although, he starts to, when he crosses paths with Yuuji, who does not truly fit his perceived idea of ‘Goodness’, but he justifies it, by laying the blame not only on Yuuji, but upon himself). Throughout the manga, it is clear that Megumi fears his Shadow (and the potential that lies in facing it), because he is afraid of what might peer back at him from the dark if he stands face to face with that part of his self (i.e. what if his perceived notions are wrong altogether).
However, what Megumi fails to recognise is that he loses his true sense of self by diving the world into ‘Good’ and ‘Bad’, and therefore, struggles to place himself in either of the categories. Tsumiki is good, so she must live a life free of suffering (or fairly). Yuuji is good, so he deserves to live. Where is Megumi’s place on that scale of ‘good’ and ‘bad’? He is not as good as his sister, he is not as kind as Yuuji, so of what value is his life? But on the other hand, he is not as bad as for example, Sukuna is, so his life cannot be completely worthless. Instead of seeing reality and accepting it for what it is, Megumi clings to his conceived idea of how the world (or people) is ‘supposed’ to be and it leaves him in a stalemate. He stays standing where he is, because he cannot imagine himself standing anywhere else.
In that same sense, he separates himself from his Shadow. For Megumi the Shadows are not a truly innate part of himself (an essence of being), but merely a Technique. A way for him to protect his perceived ‘Good/Right’ from ‘Bad/Wrong’ and because he cannot fit himself in either of the categories (not good enough or not bad enough), he cannot see himself as anything other than a tool. The world he has to navigate feeds onto his notions. In a way, Megumi has always been a tool, within the world of sorcery or outside of it, on an interpersonal level (but this depends on how one regards his relationships with Tsumiki and Gojo for example) and so, he continues to regard himself and his technique as such.
Megumi struggles to see beyond what is conscious, but the Shadow is what lies beyond his consciousness. Therefore, he has a hard time understanding himself and his technique on an innate level, because he can only see that which is conscious, the rest remains hidden in the Shadow, influencing his behaviour, creating reactive patterns within him, and distorting his perception of reality.
There is a concept called Non-dual Awareness in Buddhism, which refers to an awareness that transcends firm distinctions between oneself and the rest of existence. This is what we see Megumi struggle to cultivate throughout the manga when it comes to his technique (and sense of self). In a state of non-dual awareness, one understands that one is inseparable from the entire process of reality. Imagine you are standing in front of an ocean, looking at a single wave, is the wave still an ocean? The wave may have its own distinct properties, but it is also still clearly the ocean, i.e. it is both itself and the ocean at the same time. Such is the case with human beings. We are our individual selves, but we are also continuous with the particles that constitute everything in the known universe. Undertanding such, Buddhists see that selves are fuzzy and cannot be neatly defined. There is no objective boundary at which I end and the rest of reality begins.
➠ liberation:
How can Megumi reconcile with his Shadow, that unknown self?
The process of liberation within Buddhism is largely a process of gradually embodying the truths of non-duality and no-self, while learning to let go of your individual preferences, desires, expectations, and attachments. Through this process, we come to participate more fully and compassionately in our world, let go of fear, and accept the endless ebb and flow of all things. We resist nothing.
The way to liberation is to become an observer, a witness of your own mind. For Megumi to embrace his ‘full self’, he must embrace the impermanence of life (and therefore, self). And I believe where Akutami is leading him through all his suffering is that path of awakening, where Megumi is the Shadows and the Shadows are him.
To be continued...
[Disclaimer: This is only a personal opinion as just another reader. Additionally, English is not my native language and I have never read JJK in English, so certain terminologies I use may not be the correct equivalent of the English language.]
36 notes
·
View notes