Osananajimi to wa Love Comedy ni Naranai [Season 1 Episode 1]

“Osananajimi to wa Love Comedy ni Naranai” Episode 1: Breaking the Childhood Friend Curse?

Let’s cut to the chase: childhood friends never win in rom-coms. We’ve all seen it—they’re the reliable side character, the one who’s “like family,” while the protagonist chases the new transfer student or the mysterious senpai. But Tezuka Productions’ Osananajimi to wa Love Comedy ni Naranai (let’s call it Osananajimi for short) is here to flip that script. And after watching Episode 1, I’m low-key obsessed with how it’s messing with our expectations.

First off, the setup is genius. Eiyuu, our protagonist, is this ex-child actor who quit after his mom died—so he’s got that soft, vulnerable vibe but also a knack for overreacting (thanks, acting skills). His two childhood friends, Shio and Akari, are insanely cute. Like, “make your eyes pop out of your head” cute. And they’re not just background characters—they’re front and center, teasing Eiyuu nonstop and low-key fighting over him. The opening scene? Shio’s shoving a bento in his face while Akari’s stealing his homework, and Eiyuu’s just there like, “Guys, I’m trying to eat here!” It’s chaotic, it’s relatable, and it’s funny.

What makes this different from every other rom-com? The “no love comedy” promise. The title isn’t just a gimmick—Eiyuu keeps repeating it like a mantra. “Childhood friends can’t be in love comedies!” he yells, while Shio’s grinning and Akari’s rolling her eyes. But here’s the thing: the more he denies it, the more the show leans into the tropes it’s supposed to subvert. There’s a scene where they’re all walking home, and Shio trips—Eiyuu catches her, their faces are inches apart, and the cherry blossoms start falling. Classic rom-com stuff! But then Akari shoves them apart and yells, “Quit being gross!” It’s like the show’s winking at us, saying, “We see you, we know the clichés, and we’re gonna mess with them.”

The animation? Tezuka Productions killed it. The character designs are crisp—Shio’s pigtails bounce when she’s excited, Akari’s smirks are chef’s kiss, and Eiyuu’s deer-in-headlights expressions are so over-the-top they’re endearing. The background music is upbeat but has this nostalgic twang, like it’s reminiscing about simpler times before love triangles (or squares?) got complicated. And let’s talk about the voice acting: Akari’s VA nails that playful yet competitive tone, while Shio’s is softer but with a hint of mischief. You can hear the chemistry between them.

Now, let’s get real—this isn’t perfect. Some moments feel a little slow, like when Eiyuu’s moping about his acting past. But honestly? Those scenes make him feel human. He’s not just a blank slate for the girls to fawn over—he’s got baggage, he’s awkward, and he has no clue how to handle romance. Which makes the teasing even funnier. When Shio calls him “dummy” for not noticing her new hair clip, or Akari teases him about blushing, you can’t help but laugh because we’ve all been that clueless friend.

What’s got fans talking (and arguing) online? The “harem” question. The teaser poster shows four girls, but Episode 1 only focuses on Shio and Akari. Is this a love triangle, or is the show hiding more characters? One MyAnimeList user joked, “Either one loses or we get an osananajimi harem.” And honestly? I wouldn’t mind. The dynamic between Eiyuu, Shio, and Akari is already so fun—adding more childhood friends would just turn the chaos up to 11.

Another hot take: Tezuka Productions, the studio behind Astro Boy, making a harem rom-com? Wild. But they’re killing it. The comedic timing is on point—there’s a scene where Eiyuu tries to confess to a girl (spoiler: it goes horribly wrong) and the way the camera zooms in on his panicked face is pure gold. It’s silly, it’s over-the-top, and it works.

Of course, not everyone’s sold. Some manga readers are worried the anime will drag like the source material. One fan wrote, “The manga kept dragging with no progression.” But Episode 1 feels tight—each scene moves the story forward, and the ending leaves you wanting more. When Shio leans in and whispers, “You’re mine, dummy,” before running off? I screamed. That cliffhanger is ruthless.

Here’s the thing: Osananajimi isn’t trying to be a masterpiece. It’s trying to be fun, and it succeeds. It’s the kind of show you watch after a long day when you just want to laugh and gush over cute characters. The childhood friend trope is tired, but this show is giving it a much-needed glow-up.

So, should you watch Episode 1? Absolutely. If you love rom-coms that don’t take themselves too seriously, if you’re tired of childhood friends always losing, or if you just want to see three chaotic best friends navigate crushes and cherry blossoms, this is for you. Just don’t be surprised if you find yourself shipping Shio and Akari more than either of them with Eiyuu (no judgment—they’re adorable together).

Final thought: The childhood friend curse might finally be broken. And I, for one, am here for the chaos.

Rating: 8/10 — Cute, funny, and unapologetically chaotic. Bring on Episode 2.

P.S. If you’re a manga reader, catch up before the anime drops—you won’t regret it. And if you’re new? Welcome to the osananajimi revolution. 🌸