My Awkward Senpai [Season 1 Episodes 1-12]

“My Awkward Senpai”: A Relatable Mess of Office Romance

Let’s cut to the chase: My Awkward Senpai is the kind of show that feels like a warm hug—if that hug was accompanied by a lot of stammering, spilled coffee, and accidental lip stains on your shirt. Studio Elle’s 2025 adaptation of Makoto Kudo’s webcomic-turned-manga dives headfirst into the “gap moe” trope, where the stern, no-nonsense publicity ace Azusa Kannawa is secretly a socially awkward, instant-ramen-eating, video-game-obsessed mess. And honestly? For anyone who’s ever fumbled through a crush or felt like they’re wearing a “professional mask” at work, this series hits way too close to home.

First off, let’s talk about the characters because they’re the heart (and chaos) of the show. Kannawa-senpai is the definition of a walking contradiction. At the office, she’s the mentor everyone respects (and low-key fears) for her “unmatched reliability.” But behind closed doors? She’s chugging veggie juice while her apartment looks like a tornado hit a manga store. When her new kouhai Kamegawa—cute, nerdy, and way too easy to talk to—walks into her life, her carefully constructed facade starts to crumble faster than a cheap mug (which, spoiler, she does break in Episode 3). Kamegawa’s the perfect foil: he’s patient, a little oblivious, and somehow finds her awkwardness endearing instead of cringey. Their dynamic is like watching a cat try to act like a lion—you know it’s a show, but you can’t help rooting for the cat.

Now, let’s address the elephant in the room: the production values. If you’re here for Demon Slayer-level animation, you’re gonna be disappointed. The art style is simple—some might even say “crude”—with those two-tone hair colors that feel like a leftover trend from 2018. And yes, Studio Elle’s track record includes the infamous Gibiate, so expectations were low. But here’s the thing: the rough edges kind of work. This isn’t a show about flashy fight scenes or epic world-building. It’s about the small, messy moments of everyday life, and the unpolished animation makes those moments feel more real. Like, when Kannawa invites Kamegawa to lunch and accidentally orders enough food for three people? The wobbly lines and exaggerated blushes just make her panic funnier.

The humor is hit-or-miss, but when it hits, it’s gold. Episode 1’s reveal of Kannawa’s chaotic home life—ramen cups stacked like skyscrapers, a gaming console front and center—had me cackling because, let’s be real, who hasn’t hidden their “unprofessional” hobbies from coworkers? Episode 2’s video game subplot (she’s a console pro but can’t handle a handheld to save her life) is a perfect example of her “gap” in action. And don’t even get me started on Episode 3’s izakaya scene: Kannawa gets drunk, stains Kamegawa’s shirt with her lips (yes, lips), and then spirals into a panic about “ruining her reputation.” It’s over-the-top, it’s silly, and it’s exactly the kind of thing we’ve all done after one too many sakes.

But let’s not pretend this show is perfect. The pacing is slow—like, Golden Week vacation plans turning into a work trip slow. If you’re craving drama or big romantic gestures, you’ll be waiting a while. Most episodes boil down to Kannawa overthinking every interaction, Kamegawa being sweetly confused, and a lot of blushing. Some fans have called it “12 episodes of stammering and misunderstanding,” and… yeah, that’s fair. The animation can feel lazy at times, and the supporting characters are basically set dressing. But here’s the kicker: it’s chill. In a world of high-stakes shonen and dark isekai, sometimes you just want to watch two awkward people fumble their way toward liking each other.

What really makes My Awkward Senpai work is its relatability. Kannawa’s struggle to be “perfect” at work while hiding her true self is something almost everyone can relate to. We’ve all put on a brave face when we’re actually dying inside, or overanalyzed a text from a crush until our brain hurts. Kamegawa’s patience and kindness aren’t just “nice guy” tropes—they’re a reminder that sometimes, the best relationships start with someone who accepts you, messy parts and all.

The voice acting deserves a shoutout too. Kannawa’s VA nails that forced strictness, like she’s constantly trying to keep her inner dork from escaping. When she slips up and uses her real voice (soft, a little shy), it’s like watching a flower bloom. Kamegawa’s VA plays him with just the right amount of clueless charm—you never doubt that he genuinely likes Kannawa, even when she’s being a disaster.

So, who is this show for? If you loved My Tiny Senpai or 365 Days to the Wedding, you’ll probably dig this. If you’re into slice-of-life romances that feel like a cozy blanket, this is your jam. But if you need fast pacing, complex plots, or top-tier animation? You might want to skip it.

At the end of the day, My Awkward Senpai is like that awkward first date you can’t stop thinking about—it’s messy, it’s a little cringey, but it’s also weirdly endearing. It’s not going to win any awards, but it will make you smile, and sometimes, that’s enough. As one fan put it, “I don’t mind following this as a chill show to watch”—and honestly, in a busy world, that’s the highest praise a slice-of-life can get.

So grab your instant ramen, fire up your console, and give My Awkward Senpai a chance. Just don’t be surprised if you find yourself stammering along with Kannawa by the end.

Final Verdict: 7/10. It’s not perfect, but it’s yours—awkward, messy, and all.