Finishing Simoun for only a second time, I’m struck by how much more impact the ending has on me compared to my first viewing. Its ambiguous nature persists, but it’s nowhere near as vexing now that I’ve had ample opportunity to reflect on the story’s many interconnecting themes and the manner in which they were embodied in its characters. I feel silly for being so fond of the show despite my previous lack of understanding.

My mood upon finishing the show is far from ambiguous, however. I’m feeling blue. It’s actually a familiar feeling that arises every time I finish a show graced with an impressive ensemble cast. Nostalgia with a dash of loneliness, or something like that. It’s the feeling of graduations and farewell parties. Happy occasions or sad occasions, the end of an era is still the end of an era. I suppose this is the mark of any good anime series - or any good story, for that matter - but I truly think it’s the bidding farewell to such a group of beloved characters that makes it all the more bittersweet.

When contemplating on why I’m drawn to anime as I am, I come to the same basic conclusion time and time again: it’s the characterization, stupid. Characterization is something anime does exceptionally well. There are variations in quality, of course; the flat and simple characterization of a harem series has little in common with the detailed and elaborate characterization of a drama series. But an emphasis on characters over plot is something typical of anime. It wasn’t until I start watching anime that I even gave notice to the concept of “character study”.

Simoun is exactly that. A character study. Yes, there’s a fancy story to sweeten the pot - and I don’t mean to diminish the story, for the writing is every bit as impressive as you’ve heard - but it’s truly the priestesses of Chor Tempest who carry the show from first episode to last. That’s why the parting is such sweet sorrow.

It’s also why I’m already plotting my next viewing.