om-07428
sep 2023 se unió
Te damos la bienvenida a nuevo perfil
Nuestras actualizaciones aún están en desarrollo. Si bien la versión anterior de el perfil ya no está disponible, estamos trabajando activamente en mejoras, ¡y algunas de las funciones que faltan regresarán pronto! Mantente al tanto para su regreso. Mientras tanto, el análisis de calificaciones sigue disponible en nuestras aplicaciones para iOS y Android, en la página de perfil. Para ver la distribución de tus calificaciones por año y género, consulta nuestra nueva Guía de ayuda.
Distintivos2
Para saber cómo ganar distintivos, ve a página de ayuda de distintivos.
Reseñas1
Clasificación de om-07428
I've been trying to put into words how Episode 4 of Takopi's Original Sin hit me... and still come up short. This isn't entertainment; it's an emotional excavation. It tore me open and rebuilt me, like a big brother trying to make sense of a world that's both tragically unfair and achingly beautiful.
By Episode 4, Naoki finally lays his confession bare-he admits how deep he was wrapped into Marina's death, consumed by guilt and broken bonds. Meanwhile, Shizuka, fragile yet fierce, starts making plans to escape-to Tokyo, seeking something like hope. The weight of secrets, regret, and longing between them is suffocating in the best possible way .
Naoki's breakdown feels so raw you can practically see him shaking. It's not screaming or theatrical-it's quiet desperation, the kind a big brother might feel when realizing they failed someone they cared about most. And Shizuka... she's made of sorrow and steel-wanting to flee from her past, but still tethered to that pain by invisible threads. Watching them, I felt every misstep, every regret, every longing. It doesn't feel like fiction-it feels like real grief, real hope, real humanity.
This show thrives on contrast. The cute, storybook visuals are at odds with the darkness underneath. That dissonance makes moments like this even more piercing. Episode 4 doesn't falter in tone-it deepens it. The narrative precision, emotional honesty, and thematic clarity unify in a way that few shows dare to attempt.
So yes, a 10/10 still feels like it undersells. It's bravely honest. It's unexpectedly gentle in its cruelty-and heartbreakingly beautiful in the way it doesn't flinch from human suffering.
If this was me speaking as a big brother: buckle up. Let it break you to feel you again. And trust me-when it does, you'll know it's earned that score.
By Episode 4, Naoki finally lays his confession bare-he admits how deep he was wrapped into Marina's death, consumed by guilt and broken bonds. Meanwhile, Shizuka, fragile yet fierce, starts making plans to escape-to Tokyo, seeking something like hope. The weight of secrets, regret, and longing between them is suffocating in the best possible way .
Naoki's breakdown feels so raw you can practically see him shaking. It's not screaming or theatrical-it's quiet desperation, the kind a big brother might feel when realizing they failed someone they cared about most. And Shizuka... she's made of sorrow and steel-wanting to flee from her past, but still tethered to that pain by invisible threads. Watching them, I felt every misstep, every regret, every longing. It doesn't feel like fiction-it feels like real grief, real hope, real humanity.
This show thrives on contrast. The cute, storybook visuals are at odds with the darkness underneath. That dissonance makes moments like this even more piercing. Episode 4 doesn't falter in tone-it deepens it. The narrative precision, emotional honesty, and thematic clarity unify in a way that few shows dare to attempt.
So yes, a 10/10 still feels like it undersells. It's bravely honest. It's unexpectedly gentle in its cruelty-and heartbreakingly beautiful in the way it doesn't flinch from human suffering.
If this was me speaking as a big brother: buckle up. Let it break you to feel you again. And trust me-when it does, you'll know it's earned that score.