Episode 3 “Until the T-Shirt Drys”: Impressions & Analysis | The Beautification of Weakness (Spoilers Included)

Mitsuru was not involved in the accident.
This screenwriter brings about unbelievable plot twists.

The mystery surrounding the missing husband was no longer a question of “is he alive or dead?” He hadn’t been in an accident at all; he had become “a husband who disappeared from his wife’s life.” This was a difficult plot device to handle in a television series, though it might work in a movie, but they dared to play it.

Did you leave home with that intention from the start? Or did it happen along the way?

In any case, Sakiko’s loss has taken on a different form. From a wife waiting for her husband whose fate is unknown, to a wife whose husband has run away without telling her anything. How will she regain her normal life and continue living from there?

I won’t contact my wife.
Mitsuru had hurriedly gotten off the bus, leaving his belongings behind. There was undoubtedly some reason for it.

But whatever it was, he hadn’t told Sakiko anything since. He had bypassed his wife, who should have been the first to be informed, and only called his employee, Naoto, to check on her.

What exactly is this?

However, if she truly wanted to abandon everything and run away, she wouldn’t contact Naoto. The fact that she’s still in contact suggests that she still wants to stay connected to the world where Sakiko lives, somewhere.

Just because they’re family doesn’t mean you can tell them everything.
Are there really any families that tell each other everything? Not because they have something to hide. In order to keep the family running smoothly, everyone keeps things to themselves that they don’t need to say. This is especially true for families where members are independent. Not causing unnecessary trouble is also an act of love.

However, because it’s so commonplace and unremarkable, it’s generally not the kind of thing that would make a good subject for a story. In fact, there’s even a strong pressure to believe that a family where you can talk about anything is the ideal. This drama might be challenging that notion.

And people are described as completely different depending on who they are talking to and who is observing them. Just as Azusa was “a wife who tells everything” to Kiichi, but “a woman who tells things she can’t tell her husband” to Miyauchi. In the side story of episode 3.5, Naoto, his sister, and his colleague each gave three different impressions of the same Kiichi. We haven’t seen what will happen with Mitsuru and Sakiko yet, but there’s surely something going on.

Things that wear down Azusa’s heart
There was a scene that suggested that Kisei’s mother had been making comments that undermined Azusa’s dignity, referencing her upbringing. Kisei defended her. But those kinds of words, if constantly subjected to them, would surely wear down one’s spirit. It’s hard to believe that the clumsy and insensitive Kisei could have grasped the extent of Azusa’s pain.

If those feelings with nowhere to go led her to ask Miyauchi, the owner of the used bookstore, to “listen to things I can’t tell my husband,” then perhaps there was a way she and Mitsuru, who shared a similar background, could understand each other without needing to put it into words.

Last time, I also felt something was off about Sakiko’s mother. Even though Mitsuru was still missing, she was trying to make her daughter forget about him as if he were already dead and send her back to her parents’ home. Mitsuru, too, may have been treated harshly by Sakiko’s parents—perhaps because of his background or the difference in their incomes. If so, then Mitsuru and Azusa must have been facing similar pressure from their spouses’ parents.

People who only think about other people
As they drove to the service area, Sakiko said that Mitsuru would never complain about his wife to his employee, Naoto. She said that since he was the employer, if he made someone uncomfortable over something trivial, that would be harassment. Mitsuru is the kind of person who thinks that far ahead.

“He’s really someone who only thinks about other people,”
Sakiko said, a little proudly.

Episode 3: Sakiko
This “overthinking” is probably the core of Mitsuru’s character. And it might also be the reason for his disappearance. Those who don’t want to hurt anyone are more likely to choose to quietly disappear rather than confront the situation. It may be a weakness, but it connects to the line in episode 2, “Before you start to hate me, I’ll distance myself from you.”

Things that couples often dislike
Mitsuru dislikes pumpkins. Itsuki dislikes aquariums. Sakiko dislikes fireworks displays.

The two aquarium tickets and the two couple’s seats for the fireworks display weren’t meant for the couple. That fact will be discovered later and will hurt the spouse.

However, realistically speaking, there’s no real harm in not being able to do something that the other person dislikes. If there’s a food they don’t like, you naturally stop putting it on the table. That’s consideration.

That said, there are times when you get an irresistible craving for it when you’re alone. There are also times when you just want to go out and eat. You might feel a little guilty, but it’s not something to be ashamed of.

Sakiko was the same. She would secretly eat the pumpkin that Mitsuru hated when he wasn’t around. And in her imagination, she would quietly confide in Mitsuru.

“I like it, but Mitsuru hates it.”
“It’s not a bad thing, but I thought I’d hide it.”
“Was that how you felt when you met Azusa every month?”

Episode 3: Sakiko
I don’t want to know the truth.
If episode 2 is about “smell,” then episode 3 is about “beautification.”

It’s human nature to want to romanticize things. There’s nothing inherently wrong with that. However, episode 3 touched on that point in a rather unpleasant way.

One reason is avoiding smartphones.
Neither Sakiko nor Itsuki will take their deceased spouses’ smartphones in for repair. They’re afraid of what they might find if they look inside. Even looking at them makes them feel guilty. So, they feel a little relieved that the phones won’t turn on. They say they want to know the truth, but deep down they want to remain ignorant. People often harbor both of these feelings at the same time.

Another thing is the overwriting of the reason.
In front of Miyauchi, Kisei imagines and recounts Azusa’s perfect explanation. It was a painful scene.

And the most disturbing aspect, I felt, was the “beautification” directed at the viewers as well. It seemed to be asking, ” Aren’t you also watching this drama while beautifying it?”

If you read it normally, it’s a story about running away from your wife.
In episode 2, Mitsuru says, “I’ll distance myself from you before I start to hate you,” hinting at the fact that he’s a dangerous person.

Then, in episode 3, it was confirmed that she had truly disappeared.
This time, I will try to interpret the situation based only on the facts we have learned so far, without romanticizing it.

—Her husband, who had a low income, ran away.
The man who had maintained the facade of being her greatest supporter suddenly disappeared for reasons that are unclear.

Certainly, Mitsuru has a job, he seems kind, and he doesn’t come across as a freeloader. But the only reason he can continue doing what he loves (that shop) is probably because Sakiko is making a lot of money. Perhaps he felt some kind of inferiority complex because of that. He seemed carefree and at first glance it didn’t seem that way, but he did seem to be trying a little too hard to be Sakiko’s confidant.

Why were there two curry buns?
Just before he disappeared, Mitsuru bought two curry buns at a service area. The filling was pumpkin. Pumpkin is Mitsuru’s least favorite

food. If we take it at face value, one was for Azusa, who was sitting next to him. Azusa likes pumpkin. The other one—could it possibly be a souvenir for Sakiko? Mitsuru always buys something for her when he goes out. That shop was a place they had visited together once. Even in the middle of a secret trip, he buys his wife’s favorite food.

If that’s the case, it starts to look a little different. Up until he bought the curry buns, everything was normal.

He got off the bus in a hurry after that.
Could this be a small sign that he didn’t leave with the intention of disappearing from the start? No, this might be idealization as well.

…In any case, the mystery remains. Why did he get off the bus in a hurry? Did he leave with the intention of disappearing from the start? Or did he decide to do so after the accident?

Hypothesis Notes
Farewell phone call
Sakiko had been avoiding looking at Mitsuru’s smartphone for so long, but just as she finally decided to take a look, a Spitz song started playing.

Aoi Yu’s performance in this film was somewhat restrained. The ending explains why.

That day, I thought the “prank call” had ended without a word being said.

“I’m sorry.”

Episode 3 Mitsuru (phone)
He meant to call Naoto, but Sakiko, who happened to be there, answered the phone. It wasn’t a prank. Mitsuru simply said, “I’m sorry,” and hung up.

Yet Sakiko remained completely unfazed. She showed no sign of anything having happened. It revealed the strong character of Sakiko.

That phone call gave Sakiko a conclusion. Mitsuru probably wouldn’t come back. Giving up on waiting, Sakiko finally descended from her precarious position.

Living with weaknesses
After watching up to episode 3, I think
this story wants to depict the intricate entanglements as they are. The reasons will probably be shown to some extent, but I don’t think the creators want the answers to be something that everyone will find satisfying.

At the very least, whether someone’s words and actions are right or wrong is not something others should decide.

And there’s one more thing I don’t want to forget.

No matter how hurt, empty, or sad people are, they have to go about their daily lives. This drama depicts that.

Episode 3 focused on the weakness of idealizing things, but that’s just how humans are. No one can blame you for idealizing things to heal your own pain at times. That, too, is a necessary and important part of life.

This drama handles that balance very well. I’m looking forward to future episodes.


As early as episode 2, the script hinted at a connection between Mitsuru and Azusa’s origins. This was likely an excuse to avoid revealing a convenient fact later on. Considering this, they could be siblings, from the same institution, or from similar circumstances. All of these could be reasons for their sudden closeness.

① Siblings (blood relation)
Azusa grew up in an institution, and Mitsuru is estranged from both his parents and relatives. If we interpret these two facts as “siblings separated at a young age,” we can imagine an unfortunate upbringing where one was sent to an institution and the other to relatives—passed around and treated poorly. The weakness is the cognitive barrier. If they were separated at a very young age, even if they met by chance as adults, they wouldn’t “naturally” realize they were siblings.

② Same institution (childhood friends, not blood relation)
Even if they are not related by blood, if they grew up in the same institution, the possibility of them recognizing each other upon reunion increases. The weakness is the discrepancy with Sakiko’s testimony. Mitsuru says “it doesn’t seem to be an institution”—if that’s true, this theory falls apart.

③ Similar circumstances (no contact, just a connection)
They were complete strangers, but they shared the loneliness of being in the same situation. There were no coincidences or cognitive issues, making it the most plausible explanation. The weakness is that it’s difficult to explain the strength of their relationship. Because there are no “unashamed excuses” like blood relation or an institution, the shadow of “adultery” casts the strongest shadow over their attraction to each other. Would they meet once a month and travel to Nagano out of mere sympathy?
————————-
The bus trip to Nagano was a pilgrimage to his parents’ grave or the land where he grew up—a pilgrimage to his origins. Or, given Mitsuru’s personality, which tends to think only of others, it might have been a case of Mitsuru accompanying Azusa on her pilgrimage.

At the time they left, it wasn’t worth mentioning. Perhaps he intended to blurt it out when he returned from Nagano. We can no longer know.
————————-
Whichever theory it is, Azusa died, and Mitsuru survived. Mitsuru is bearing the burden of that death alone, unable to tell anyone. Although nothing has been depicted yet, this unspeakable loss seems to be one of the reasons why he cannot return.

Hypothesis Notes

TBS Friday drama “Until My T-Shirt Drys” airs every Friday at 10 PM. Written by Miku Ubukata, directed by Hiroyasu Doi. Theme song is “Mishiranu Ito” by Spitz, music by haruka nakamura.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Scroll to Top