There are a lot of anime that take place in high school that are labeled “slice of life.” But there’s nothing about anime like Toradora, K-On!, or The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya that resemble any of the feelings or experiences I remember having in high school. There’s dating, drama, and above all, too much effortless beauty for me to believe these characters are really high schoolers. I wasn’t moe in high school, who was? Even if you WERE, you were too full of teen angst and self doubt to notice.

Which is why I’ve been unexpectedly enjoying Watamote, perhaps the most relatable anime about high school that’s come out in years.

Watamote is plain. It teeters on dullness simply because the world it covers—inside Tomoko’s stubborn, neurotic brain—is just so small. It’s hard to have multiple recurring characters when your protagonist is a hikikomori in training. But while Tomoko’s shyness is extreme, her high school experience is not.

When I think back on high school, I don’t remember love triangles, near-death experiences, and perfect, manageable hair. I remember being my worst self. In high school I was at my most self-conscious, anxious, and shallow that I’ve ever been, and if you’re honest with yourself, you might share a similar reflection. I cared about so many silly little details—about my appearance, about what other people might think of me—that I realize as an adult don’t matter at all.

Tomoko is no different. She listens in on her classmates’ conversations while making judgements about their perceived sluttiness. She spends a lot of time daydreaming that she’s somebody else. She magnifies the smallest problem (like forgetting a textbook) into The Worst Thing Ever. She often feels superior to her peers, which is a joke given that she’s wildly unpopular and not as smart as she thinks. Even the full title of the show, “No Matter How I look at It, It’s You Guys Fault I’m Not Popular,” reveals a glaring lack of self awareness, as Tomoko blames everyone but herself.

It’s not a surprise that I wasn’t cool in high school, mainly because I’ve shared that fact on my blog before. I was co-captain of the debate team, a yearbook editor, and generally an introverted nerd. I had a small group of friends, whom I still hang out with today, but like Tomoko—and like EVERY TEEN—I spent a lot of time in my own head. I suspect this is the same even if you were popular in high school. As a teen, I felt like I was alone and nobody else could possibly understand my feelings. I felt like there was something special about my experience, though of course I went through the same feelings and emotions that everyone does through those angsty teen years.

Tomoko is not as special as she seems to think. She’s capable of acting like a regular teen girl, especially with her middle school friend, Yuu. She’s even capable of looking adorable, though she usually tries way too hard. Even though she tells us she wants to change, she revels in her own awkwardness and solitude. Tomoko is flawed, hypocritical, and above all, a human character who is incredibly endearing to anyone who has ever been a teen.

This is why Watamote is the most believable high school slice-of-life we’ve had in recent memory. You never doubt for a second that Tomoko, with all her insecurities and smug superiority, is a high school girl with a high school mindset.

Remember when I sent out a call for guest posts? I’ve decided to start posting them now, while I put the finishing touches on my latest Bookstore offering, Navigating Ethics and Bias. Today’s post comes from Kory Cerjak, an up-and-coming writer who blogs at The Fandom Post and Deconstructing Comics (both links go to recent posts of his). Kory sent me a rough draft which I put through a few editing rounds. I made some grammatical and flow edits, but the sentiments are all his.

Guest posts on Otaku Journalist are not necessarily posts I agree with 100 percent. Instead, they’re an opportunity for aspiring writers to share their thoughts on otakudom and get some more exposure for their writing on fandom topics. Please comment on them like you would on any other post on this blog!

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What better a topic for Otaku Journalist than otaku comparisons?

In particular, I’m talking about the differences of otaku subculture as portrayed in Genshiken compared to in Oreimo. Up until now, I’ve never had a reason to formally write about it. But I’ve been given that opportunity by Otaku Journalist, so let’s jump right in.

Genshiken is about embracing your inner otaku. Protagonist Sasahara is a normal guy who likes otaku things and tries to love them outwardly. But he’s no Madarame (a hardcore otaku) or Kousaka (a guileless purveyor of hentai). Sasahara is embarrassed about buying figures of girls and doujinshi. There’s a great scene where he’s fighting with himself about whether he should buy a doujinshi, not just because they cost money and he’s a poor college student, but because he doesn’t want to be seen buying the doujinshi! That’s the big difference: any shame the characters of Genshiken feel about being otaku comes from within.

Meanwhile in Oreimo, Kirino is completely comfortable with her own otaku passions. Only problem is, she has no one to talk about it with. But while she’d find ready co-conspirators in the Genshiken group, the world of Oreimo doesn’t look so kindly on Kirino’s hobbies. Instead, Kirino’s parents and best friend are “normal” people who view anime as evil. It’s not until Kyousuke comes along to defend anime and eroge that they see the light. In Genshiken, you don’t need a Kyousuke character. Even Genshiken’s foil character—Kasukabe—is indifferent, not hateful, toward anime.

But while Kirino has infinitely more outward reasons to feel ashamed of being otaku, it’s Genshiken’s Sasahara who struggles with his identity the most. By the third episode of Genshiken, when Sasahara’s at Summer Comic Market, he still feels uncomfortable even when he’s surrounded by thousands of people with the same interests as him. I felt the same way at my first anime convention—it’s very humbling to find out that you’re not the only one that likes this weird niche thing called “anime.” And that’s really what Genshiken is about. It wants to take you on Sasahara’s journey from closeted otaku to full-fledged, doujinshi-buying anime fan.

The fourth episode of Oreimo is also at Summer Comic Market (it’s even raining in both of them!). But where Sasahara was still trying to accept himself as an otaku, Kirino already has. She’s trying to find other people to be otaku with her, and she’s still learning whether new friends Saori and Kuroneko are on her level. They’re still in that awkward new friend stage where you’re not quite sure how the friendship works yet, and Kirino’s tsundere character doesn’t help matters much. The episode isn’t about embracing yourself, but learning to embrace people who have the same tastes as you.

It’s clear to see one major similarity between Oreimo and Genshiken—they’re both shows made by otaku, for otaku. However, each show goes about targeting the audience in a vastly different way. Genshiken’s characters are relatively realistic otaku types, and it’s not much of a challenge to relate to them and see parts of yourself. Oreimo goes the moe route, presenting otaku caricatures inhabiting the bodies of pretty girls. It’s far more likely you’d encounter a Sasahara than a Kirino in real life, to be sure!

The differences to us otaku, however, are largely moot. We look for a different kind of audience surrogate and we find that in both anime. There’s no singular otaku anime because there’s no singular otaku experience. We can compare portrayals all day long, but in the end there’s room for both.