You Can’t Be in a Rom-Com with Your Childhood Friends! [Season 1 Episode 3]

“You Can’t Be in a Rom-Com with Your Childhood Friends!” Season 1 Episode 3: Tropes, Tsunderes, and Blue Desktops

If you’ve ever rolled your eyes at a rom-com where the main guy is so clueless he could trip over a love confession and call it a “weirdly warm rock,” then You Can’t Be in a Rom-Com with Your Childhood Friends! (let’s just call it Osananajimi Rom-Com for short) is here to… well, be exactly that show. But wait—before you skip to the next slice-of-life, let’s talk about Episode 3, where the chaos of Eiyuu’s “not a love triangle” finally starts to feel like it might have a pulse.

First, let’s get the basics straight (thanks to some quick digging): this anime is based on Shinya Misu’s manga, produced by Tezuka Productions (yes, the Tezuka, though don’t expect Astro Boy vibes here), and it’s all about Eiyuu—a high schooler who swears up and down he’s not in a rom-com with his two childhood besties, Shio and Akari. Spoiler: He’s definitely in a rom-com.

Episode 3 picks up where the first two left off: Eiyuu is still panicking over how “cute” Shio and Akari have gotten (his words, not mine), while the girls are low-key plotting to make him theirs. But here’s the thing fans on MyAnimeList are buzzing about: Eiyuu isn’t totally clueless—he’s just bad at reading clues. Like, “if a girl blushes and says ‘I hate you’ while fixing your tie, he thinks she’s mad about the tie” bad. One user put it perfectly: “Eiyu isn’t clueless, he just gets his clues backwards. That has some comedy potential.” And honestly? They’re right. When Akari (the tsundere of the pair) spends 10 minutes mentally yelling at herself for not being “cool” before shoving a bento in Eiyuu’s face, it’s the kind of cringey-funny that makes you snort-laugh even if you see it coming.

But let’s talk tropes—because this show is drowning in them, and fans are split. Shio is the sweet, clingy one who calls Eiyuu “Eiyu-kun” and shares her snacks like they’re love letters. Akari is the classic tsundere who says “it’s not like I made this for you!” while handing him a homemade cake. One user groaned, “The girls seem to be built out of generic tropes,” and yeah—if you’ve seen Oresuki or Osamake, you’ll recognize these archetypes faster than Eiyuu recognizes Akari’s blush. But here’s the twist: Akari knows she’s a tsundere and hates it. She’ll mutter, “Stop being so tsundere, Akari!” under her breath mid-rant, and it’s that self-awareness that makes her feel less like a cardboard cutout and more like a real (if very dramatic) teen.

Now, let’s address the elephant in the room: the art style. Oh, the art style. Fans are obsessed with complaining about the blue backgrounds. Desktops? Blue. Streets? Blue. Even the school hallway has this weird, cyan tint like everyone’s living in a TikTok filter. One user ranted, “What’s up with this art style where things like desktops and streets are colored blue? It’s really distracting and it gives me the impression I’m watching a story taking place in a VR world.” Another compared it to a “harem rom-com from a couple years ago” (we all know which one they mean). Is it a choice? Probably. Is it a good choice? Debatable. But hey—at least it’s memorable.

Then there’s the humor. Episode 3 leans into the “Eiyuu overreacts to everything” bit hard. When Shio accidentally spills juice on his shirt and offers to help him change, he panics so hard he trips over a chair and lands in a pile of textbooks. Cue Akari yelling, “What are you doing to him, Shio?!” while Shio blushes and says, “I-I was just helping!” It’s the kind of slapstick that works if you’re into that sort of thing… or makes you yawn, like one user who admitted, “Well, I fell asleep, which isn’t a good sign.” Fair.

But let’s not write it off yet. The show has tiny glimmers of potential. The name meanings, for example—fans noticed that Shio’s name means “saltwater” (she’s the calm, sweet one) and Akari’s means “fire lamp” (she’s the fiery, tsundere one). Eiyuu’s nickname even translates to “hero,” which is funny because he’s the least heroic protagonist ever. These little details make you think the writers might be hiding something under all the tropes.

And let’s talk about the girls for a second. Shio isn’t just a “sweet and clingy” trope—she’s too sweet, like she’s overcompensating for something. Akari isn’t just a tsundere—she’s a tsundere who’s trying not to be a tsundere, which is a meta twist that’s actually kind of fresh. One user pointed out, “I do appreciate having the Tsundere mentally trying not to be a tsundere and utterly failing.” Same, friend. Same.

So, is Episode 3 worth watching? If you’re a die-hard rom-com fan who lives for childhood friend drama and tsundere meltdowns, yes. If you hate tropes or can’t stand blue backgrounds, skip it. But here’s the tea: this show is self-aware. Eiyuu says the title (“You can’t be in a rom-com with your childhood friends!”) like three times an episode, which feels like a wink to the audience. It’s like the writers are saying, “We know this is cliché—we’re just having fun with it.”

At the end of the day, Osananajimi Rom-Com isn’t breaking new ground. But for 20 minutes of mindless, blushy fun? It’s not the worst way to spend your afternoon. Just don’t be surprised if you find yourself yelling at the screen, “Eiyuu, she likes you!” while he’s over here worrying about his math homework.

Final Verdict: 3/5 stars. It’s tropey, it’s silly, and the blue backgrounds are a crime against animation—but if you’re in the mood for a lighthearted rom-com that doesn’t take itself too seriously, give it a shot. Who knows? You might even stay awake through the whole episode.

P.S. If you do watch it, let me know if you figure out why the desktops are blue. I’m genuinely curious.