Romantic Comedies Do Not Depict Romance: Why They Became 'Stories of Distance' - [Japanese Anime Cultural Theory] Chapter 14
"Romantic comedy" is not a genre that directly moves the world like politics or war. However, it is a genre that deals with the smallest unit that constitutes the world: "the relationship between two people". Yet, this genre is strangely earnest. This is because what it deals with is the problem of "how to face the person right in front of you". A distance smaller than that of the state or society, yet one from which you cannot escape. If "Ghost in the Shell" questions the distance from society, and "Neon Genesis Evangelion" questions the distance from the self, then romantic comedy has continued to question "the distance from others".
Romantic comedy is not a genre that depicts romance. To be precise, it is a genre that deals with "the distance from others" through the form of romance. A cultural experiment regarding how to measure, adjust, and maintain that distance—tracing its transition reveals the history of how humans have connected with others.
Rumiko Takahashi's "Urusei Yatsura" (1981) and "Maison Ikkoku" (1986), and Mitsuru Adachi's "Touch" (1985) contain the prototypes of this genre. What establishes relationships here is "fate, misunderstandings, and coincidence". Lum suddenly descended upon Ataru. Kyoko Otonashi and Yusaku Godai meet in the coincidental community of "Ikkoku-kan" and continue to miss each other. In Touch, a continuous relationship as childhood friends only takes on the outline of "romance" through the coincidence of loss. The fact that the two people's wills do not align is the fuel for the story, and it is no one's fault.
Of course, this is not romantic comedy itself. However, the structure where a relationship between two people is disrupted by a third party, and that misalignment becomes the driving force of the story, is widely seen in Japanese stories in general. In "Mobile Suit Gundam", Lalah functions as an existence that decisively alters the relationship between Amuro and Char. Quess in "Char's Counterattack" and Hathaway in "Hathaway's Flash" are the same. The relationship between two people is often not completed by just the two of them. The reason romantic comedy is interesting, when boiled down, is due to this same structure. It is just that romantic comedy has not closed that "misalignment" as a tragedy, but has continued to accept it in different forms in each era.
The Transformation of Misalignment - From Device to Relationship, and Then to Daily Life
This misalignment has taken different forms in each era.
Romantic comedies around the 1990s used misalignment as a "device". Rumiko Takahashi's "Ranma 1/2" (1989), Izumi Matsumoto's "Kimagure Orange Road" (1987), and "Urusei Yatsura"—in these works, love triangles and misunderstandings are repeated, and the relationship intentionally does not progress. Romance is a gimmick to move the story, and the missed connections themselves were consumed as entertainment. Rather than dissatisfaction with the relationship not moving, the feeling of enjoying that frustration supported the works.
In the 2000s, that frustration was expanded into a "harem structure". Romantic comedies of this era, represented by "Love Hina" (2000), "To Love Ru" (2006), and "Nisekoi" (2011), have a game-like structure of choosing who to pick from multiple heroines. The relationships expanded horizontally, and the abundance of choices, or in other words, "quantity", became the value. Characters were designed as symbols bearing their respective archetypes, and the protagonist was placed at the center of the relationship while remaining passive. Misalignment was no longer a problem of individual emotions, but something structurally maintained.
The turning point came in the late 2000s. 'Honey and Clover' (2005), which preceded others as a romantic ensemble drama, is closer to a coming-of-age ensemble drama than a romantic comedy in the narrow sense. However, in that it made 'the pain of relationships themselves' the theme rather than 'who to choose,' it anticipated a shift in the emotional structure of romantic comedy. Within that trend, 'Kimi ni Todoke' (2009) purified misunderstandings not as an entertainment device, but as 'the inability to communicate' itself. The lack of alignment is no longer an accidental misunderstanding, but appears as the very state of 'having feelings exist but being unable to verbalize them.' Immaturity and fluctuations in self-awareness began to seep out from the inside of the relationship rather than from the outside. And 'Toradora!' (2008), while incorporating these elements, pushed the collision and reorganization of emotions to the center of the story.Honey and Clover who to choose the pain of relationships themselves Kimi ni Todoke the inability to communicate having feelings exist but being unable to verbalize them Toradora!
Since the late 2010s, as seen in the silence and anxiety of 'Tsuki ga Kirei' (2017), the normalization of life after the relationship begins in 'Horimiya' (2021), the disclosure of desire and self-affirmation in 'My Dress-Up Darling' (2022), the recovery of distorted self-awareness in 'The Dangers in My Heart' (2024-), and the speed difference in mutual understanding in 'Opposite-Attracts' (2026), modern romantic comedies share the same 'convergence to a one-on-one relationship' while acquiring different levels of precision within that framework. Although the tone of each work differs, what they have in common is a structure where internal 'distance, anxiety, and self-awareness' function as barriers rather than external trials. If the harem genre made 'quantity' its value, modern romantic comedy makes 'quality'—the question of 'how much can you understand the other person'—its value.Tsuki ga Kirei Horimiya My Dress-Up Darling The Dangers in My Heart Opposite-Attracts convergence to a one-on-one relationship distance, anxiety, and self-awareness quantity how much can you understand the other person quality
In the Middle of a Relationship - When Romance Is No Longer the Center of the Story
The 'distance' in romantic comedies is not singular. Relationships are formed through the overlapping of three layers: physical distance (unable to meet/being in the same space), social distance (status, role, position within a community), and cognitive distance (how one understands the other, how one thinks they are being perceived). The characteristic of modern romantic comedy lies in the fact that its main battlefield has shifted from external conditions to internal cognition. If old-school romantic comedies dealt with external distance—unable to meet/misunderstandings—modern romantic comedies deal with internal distance—knowing but unable to say. This change is not something that happened abruptly at a certain point, but rather something that progressed gradually before we realized it. Romance has quietly shifted from a question of whether it will be fulfilled to a question of '
how can one be together with another person'. If 'slice-of-life' found value in 'a daily life where nothing happens', modern romantic comedy finds value in 'the state of the relationship continuing itself'. Neither requires major incidents, but while the former depicts stability, the latter depicts a relationship that persists while harboring instability. In the background, templates for romantic comedies have all been presented and shared. Since there is no longer a need to break them, the demand has shifted to increasing their precision. For an audience capable of understanding multiple formats simultaneously, emotions can be conveyed without needing to strongly drive the narrative. The shift from 'what to depict' to 'how finely can it be depicted' has also been quietly occurring in romantic comedy.The work of
Naoko Yamada appears as the extreme point of this trend. Naoko Yamada is one of the directors who has visualized the stage that modern romantic comedy has reached—'feeling the relationship'—with the highest purity. The mold of modern romantic comedy is already beginning to be visible—relationships are established early, no major incidents occur, and emotions are not over-explained. What is important is not the events themselves, but the subtlety of the cognition and sensations swayed by those events. And within that mold, Naoko Yamada has dug the deepest.In the theatrical film '
Tamako Market' (2013) extension, 'Tamako Love Story' (2014), the relationship is neither a negotiation nor a strategy. It is simply that things left unsaid, things that do not get across, and the silence between them are carefully accumulated. Distance is not manipulated. It is simply observed as 'what is there'. Romance descends not to whether it is fulfilled, but to the unavoidable experience of 'how one ends up feeling'. If romantic comedy is a genre that 'moves' relationships, Naoko Yamada has pulled it back to the point of 'feeling' them.
The history of romantic comedy is also a history of increasing precision in relationships. Distance, once left to chance, came to be measured by emotion, defined within society, manipulated by cognition, and now, it is finely adjusted through dialogue and sensation. The world does not change. But the resolution of the 'relationship between the two' that constitutes the world is quietly continuing to rise. Romantic comedy is the genre that has recorded this change on the smallest scale.
The aesthetics of unfulfilled emotions
As the precision of relationships has increased, romantic comedies have become able to depict not only the process of becoming a couple but also the texture of the emotions of not becoming a couple themselves. This is not merely a byproduct. As distance itself became the subject, emotions that do not come to fruition also became independent objects of appreciation. Modern romantic comedies are moving further in that direction: toward the aesthetics of unfulfilled emotions, unrequited love, and those who were not chosen.
Those who were not chosen, unrequited love, unresolved distance— these are not a lack of narrative, but stand as independent themes. Losing heroines and obsessive buddies are two manifestations of that aesthetic.
The Aesthetics of the Losing Heroine: The Sorrow of Those Not Chosen
One point where Japanese romantic comedies differ decisively from romance stories around the world is the cultural device known as the losing heroine. Rather than treating a heroine who was not chosen by the protagonist as a mere side character, her sorrow, sincerity, and charm are depicted with a level of care equal to or greater than that of the protagonist or the winning heroine. This stance is a unique aesthetic deeply rooted in Japanese anime and manga. The earliest example that can be cited as its origin is
Princess Knight (Nakayoshi edition, 1963–66) by Osamu Tezuka, specifically the character Hecate. Although she is the daughter of a witch, Hecate has a kind heart and falls in love with Prince Franz, but the prince's heart belongs to Princess Sapphire. She dies for love, meeting a tragic end. The structure where a being who was not chosen possesses the legitimate emotional depth of a heroine and earns the reader's empathy was already established here.
This lineage is deeply inherited by modern romantic comedies. Tsubasa Hanekawa from Nisio Isin's Monogatari Series (2006–) understands and supports the protagonist, Koyomi Araragi, more deeply than anyone else, yet she is not chosen to be by his side. Nisio depicts the pain and pride of that choice with an astonishing density of language. Nadeko Sengoku from the same series possesses a depth of emotion so intense that her infatuation becomes distorted and manifests as an apparition, yet she, too, is not chosen.
Kosaki Onodera from Nisekoi (2018) fulfilled the conditions for the true love of a childhood promise, yet was not chosen by the protagonist. Her defeat is passed down as the greatest losing heroine that readers will long remember, and a fan base known as the Onodera faction remains firmly in existence even after the work concluded.
"Why do Japanese romantic comedies depict losing heroines with such care?" — One possible answer to this question lies in the sensibility of "Hogan Biiki" (sympathy for the underdog) found in Japanese culture. Empathy and sorrow for Yoshitsune, the Akō rōshi, the falling of cherry blossoms, those who were not chosen, those who were defeated, and those who shone briefly before vanishing have been pointed out as a warp thread running firmly through Japanese aesthetics. The losing heroine is a modern embodiment of this, functioning as a device to depict a "beautiful defeat" within the everyday context of romance.
"Oshi no Ko" (2023–) can be read not so much as a romantic comedy in the narrow sense, but as an example of how the emotional structure of romantic comedy has expanded into other genres. Kana Arima and Akane Kurokawa represent this modern divergence. While Kana Arima bears the pain of the classic losing heroine—"being close but not chosen"—and the thirst for validation, Akane Kurokawa demonstrates a more self-performative and modern image of the losing heroine by maintaining romantic feelings while harboring a gap between her "performed self" and her true feelings. Here, the losing heroine is updated not merely as a loser, but as a form of emotion that carries the twist of "validation, performance, and true feelings." This aesthetic reached the point of explicit self-reference as a genre in the 2020s with the work "
Make Heroine ga Ōsugiru!" (2024). The losing heroine is no longer a "byproduct of romantic comedy" but a concept with enough cultural accumulation to stand as a subject in its own right.
Obsessive Buddies: The Explosion of Relationships That Are Yuri and Not Yuri
Another important element is the suspended relationship that is less than romance but more than friendship. There is a character archetype that, while adjacent to the losing heroine, raises the temperature of the story through an entirely different circuit. Here, we will conveniently call this the "
obsessive buddy." This is also an important archetype in modern anime that, while adjacent to romantic comedy, strongly visualizes "unfulfilled emotions." There is the "
romantic type" like Kuroko Shirai (A Certain Scientific Railgun, 2009–) and Noa (Wataten!: An Angel Flew Down to Me!, 2019), and the "reverent type" like Sanae Dekomori (Love, Chunibyo & Other Delusions!, 2012). While the romantic type is an "emotion that aims for the establishment of a relationship," the reverent type is an "emotion that maintains intensity without assuming the establishment of a relationship." What they both have in common is an "asymmetric intensity of emotion" toward a specific person. That emotion is ridiculous, poignant, and sometimes takes the most straightforward form in the entire work.
The essence of this archetype lies in a state of suspension: 'yuri and yet not yuri.' The reason it is '
not yuri'—the other party (Mikoto, Miyako, Rikka) does not receive those feelings in the same form. Or, the way they are received is decisively asymmetrical. Because it does not manifest as romance, it does not fit into the 'yuri' framework. The reason it 'is also yuri'—however, the intensity, quality, and direction of those feelings carry a romantic or worshipful heat. Feelings that cannot be explained by the grammar of heterosexual romance are exploding between people of the same sex. The effect created by this state of suspension is unique. The story progresses without the question '
is this romance, friendship, or worship?' being resolved. Viewers are emotionally drawn in while leaving that question hanging in the air. If romantic comedies depict the adjustment and maintenance of relationships, the 'obsessive buddy' is a relationship that exists on the condition of 'not allowing the relationship to be realized.' The obsessive buddy relationship does not aim for change. The fact that the distance does not change, that the asymmetry is maintained—that static equilibrium itself is the condition of the relationship. In contrast, the relationship between
Chisato Nishikigi and Takina Inoue in 'Lycoris Recoil' (2022) is contrasting. Here, feelings do not remain asymmetrical; they are mutually exchanged, and the relationship itself has a structure that moves toward realization. While the obsessive buddy is fueled by 'insolubility,' this relationship moves toward 'mutual salvation.' A similar structure can be seen in the relationship between
Frieren and Fern in 'Frieren: Beyond Journey's End' (2023–). Frieren is a being who cannot fully understand human emotions, and Fern is a human who exists outside that sense of time. A clear asymmetry exists between the two, but that asymmetry does not remain fixed; it changes little by little toward mutual understanding over a long period of time.
If the obsessive buddy is a 'relationship that exists by maintaining asymmetry,' then these relationships are 'relationships that exist as asymmetry changes and eventually approaches mutuality.' While the obsessive buddy is a relationship that maintains its strength through 'not changing,' these relationships exist by accepting the very fact of 'changing.' Neither fits into the framework of romance, but their endpoints are decisively different. Modern anime is branching out relationships that are neither romance nor friendship into multiple languages, refining each in different directions.
Looking more precisely at the function of each character, we can see that each acts as a 'mirror' for the protagonist. Kuroko Shirai's worshipful love for Mikoto Misaka inversely reflects Mikoto's desire to 'be a normal girl.' Sanae Dekomori's obsession with Rikka illuminates the depth of Rikka's own loneliness and self-performance. Noa's love for the Miyamoto sisters simultaneously encompasses multiple boundaries—age difference, ethics, and purity—embedding the question 'what is this?' into the work.
From the perspective of this book's thesis, 'a culture that traverses boundaries,' the obsessive buddy is a character archetype that stands forever upon multiple boundaries—the boundary between yuri and non-yuri, the boundary between romance and worship, and the boundary between acceptable and unacceptable emotions. If the 'losing heroine' depicts the 'beauty of those who were not chosen,' the obsessive buddy depicts the 'explosion of unrequited feelings.' Both are unique values that Japanese anime finds within unfulfilled emotions.
Keywords for this chapter
The smallest unit of a relationship between two people: A genre that deals with the smallest unit that constitutes the world, even if it does not directly move the world—the third pillar alongside Ghost in the Shell (society) and Eva (self)
The Universality of Mismatch: Urusei Yatsura, Maison Ikkoku, Touch — Distance determined by circumstances rather than will
Disruption of Relationships by Third Parties: Lalah, Quess, Gigi — Dyadic relationships are altered by third parties. Romantic comedies do not close off this 'mismatch' as a tragedy, but continue to embrace it in different forms across eras
A History of the Alteration of Distance: Coincidence and Community (80s) → The Mechanization of Misunderstandings (around the 90s) → Haremization and the Value of Quantity (00s) → The Thematization of Relationships (late 00s) → Cognitive Distance and the Process of Understanding (late 10s to present)
From Harem to Quality: The shift from a multitude of choices (quantity) to 'how much one can understand the other' (quality) — the core of modern romantic comedy
Naoko Yamada's 'Tamako Love Story' (2014): Depicting romance as an 'inevitable experience' — from 'moving' a relationship to a point of 'feeling' it
The Resolution of Relationships: The world does not change. But the resolution of the 'relationship between two people' that constitutes the world is quietly continuing to rise
The Losing Heroine: The melancholy of the unchosen — a modern embodiment of sympathy for the underdog
Obsessive Buddies: The Romantic Type (Kuroko, Noa) and the Reverent Type (Dekomori) — A static equilibrium established by the condition of 'not allowing the relationship to materialize,' maintaining distance and asymmetry
Relationships Established Through the Changing of Asymmetry (Chisato & Takina, Frieren & Fern): A dynamic relationship where asymmetry approaches reciprocity without ever fitting into the framework of romance
Next Chapter: To 'Chapter 15 Otaku Culture: A Culture That Crosses Boundaries (1975–Present)'
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