Everyone sees others through their own filter.
Therefore, the “me” you perceive and the “me” others see are different.
Even though I consider myself flexible, I sometimes get shocked when someone tells me I’m stubborn.
The scenery we see may seem the same, but it’s actually quite different.
Episode 3 of “Until My T-Shirt Dry” depicted the pain of “people who believe in what they want to believe.”
Mitsuru (Kenichi Matsuyama) wasn’t on that bus. The
story begins with an unexpected twist.
Did he disappear on his own, leaving his driver’s license and smartphone behind?
Still, Sakiko (Yu Aoi) wants to believe.
Precisely because she wants to believe, she keeps picturing the words she wants to hear and continues to create an image of Mitsuru in her mind, even though he’s not there.
It was the same for Itsuki (Ayumu Nakajima).
Because he continued to believe in his wife, he dreamed that she had bought it for him, and it became a reality. Standing
before the package that had arrived addressed to his wife,
“This is Azusa’s. What did you order? I’m going to open it now.”
Seeing Kisei break down in tears like a child after saying that, I couldn’t help but cry along with him.
And those around each couple, who had observed them, also spoke about the people they had seen.
Naoto (Fumiya Takahashi), who works at Mitsuru’s coffee shop, disrupts the atmosphere with feelings that are unclear, whether they are jealousy towards Mitsuru or feelings for Sakiko.
Meanwhile, the manager (Lily Franky) of the store where Azusa (Kaho) works part-time tells him that Azusa’s catchphrase was ,
“Hey manager, listen to this story I can’t tell my husband.”
But that, too, is merely the “image of Azusa” that the store manager has seen.
No one knows her true feelings anymore.
That’s why it’s so heartbreaking for Kiichi to suddenly learn about this side of his wife.
The wife the husband imagined.
The husband the wife imagined.
Were both of those things true, or were they just misconceptions?
The answer can no longer be confirmed.
The reality that remained was a pair of tickets to a fireworks display, which I supposedly hated, and tickets to an aquarium.
The destinations were revealed through each person’s belongings.
Who were they planning to go with?
I want to believe that I was hoping that I might come to like the place if I went with my partner, precisely because it was a place I disliked.
But then, at the very end,
Mitsuru (Kenichi Matsuyama) calls.
Just one word:
“Sorry.”
For Sakiko, who had begun to think that he would never come back, it was an incredibly cruel remark.
The emotions of each character are conveyed so powerfully.
People can never truly understand each other.
That’s why we exchange words and gradually connect our hearts.
It’s just too painful when that person suddenly disappears.
So, if he’s still alive—
I want Mitsuru to come back.
***