This is a Story About a Woman Called Yumeko…

Midari and Yumeko

Yumeko understood Midari (Russian roulette, Zener ESP card deck), who lost a pretty ugly bet to Kirari. Most people write Midari off. I even wrote Midari, off at one point. I feel guilty about that now. But Midari has a good heart. She saved Yumeko, in Ep. 4, of Season 1, and she didn’t want Yumeko to face Kirari and endure the same fate she did.

Basically, if the Debt Swap game was about wrongs committed in between the genders, then the episodes about poor Midari’s story are about wrongs that women commit against each other. Obviously, however, there is no perfect world.

Midari and Yumeko are similar, but not the same. Midari is formidable because she has less fear, making her immune to several motivations most people have. Midari is a genius, a gambling One Punch Man. However, the weak side is sadness and ennui. Thus, her motivation to feel something, with the things most people fear most, is an uncommon motivation – but still a motivation.

Yumeko was able to exploit this. If a person has one motivation, once that motivation is figured out – however obscure that motivation is – their moves become predictable and the game has no risk. Hence why Yumeko became truly upset because the ESP game wasn’t gambling. Yumeko hated that Midari’s game had no risk, because even with scams, Midari rigged it so that she would lose.

0% or 100% probability are not your friends. If you eliminate all risk, even at the last second, you lose all reward. A world without risk is a world without change: a perfect world, but also a dead and frozen one.

To the uninitiated – compared to someone like Mary – Midari and Yumeko might as well be the same. I like Midari and Yumeko. I like that they don’t hold back their feelings of pleasure. They claim them and own them. You can afford to have a lot of fan service if the story is strong. Yumeko is empowered, and everything she does is consensual. She is happy and having fun with her life, naturally. That makes an enormous difference; that’s the difference, not the fan service itself

Kakegurui is so sexualized, that it’s funny. It’s fan service and it’s funny spicing up a show that would normally bore most people with probabilities and gambling math. It’s also sex positive. The women are owning their own sexuality. You can tell; there is a difference. All of this also fits with Yumeko’s confident, take no prisoners mentality.

1) Strong women owning their sexuality is good, like I said. 2) If done tastefully, and subtly (or in an obviously absurd way, like Kakegurui does), not all fan service is bad; some of it is fun. 3) Spicing the more theoretical gambling parts up, with desire, makes sense.

How are Midari and Yumeko different? Midari constantly always focuses on the end result – which is better than most people – but Yumeko also is concerned with the probabilities to get to the result. This is the mark of a true gambler.

Following the dual theme of each episode, Yumeko and Mary both end up separately being the Woman that Refused (more Yumary shipping). Midari tried to protect Yumeko from the darkness of Kirari – who is dark, (except for when it comes to Sayaka and Batsubami) – but Yumeko is strong enough to face Kirari on her own. Midari was just trying to protect Yumeko from Kirari.

Every game has had a scam in it and Yumeko easily sees through the scam and wins or ties, under both the constraints of the game and the scam. Yumeko is fiery. Plus, you don’t get enough genius or gambler female characters. Yumeko never underestimates anybody. That’s her real secret to winning.

I just wanted to see the hand in the $100M betting war. Three of a kind, jacks. An amazing game. I love poker, so I understand a little bit how Yumeko feels, how risk – and reward -excite her. Yumeko’s hand wasn’t even a full house – but she just needed it to be stronger than a 3 of eights. Nice.

Yumeko didn’t even need the Opposite Day twist to win; she won with the normal hand rankings of poker. Manyuda doubled down on just having the right to choose. He should have folded. When he chose to play with the normal hand ascendancy, he still lost, to a middle tier hand.

Lost’s “Greater Good:” OK-ish Fine

Simultaneously, I understood Shannon’s grief and anger, and I also wanted Shannon to forgive Locke – if only to set her own heart free. Shannon should have gotten some flashbacks, after Boone’s funeral. Shannon was totally justified here, in seeking justice for Boone, and in dumping Said. Shannon deserved so much more here. No one is on her side, and her only family, in the entire world – her brother – just died, and seemingly no one is at fault, and no one really seems to care.

Locke got off easy, for his unintentional role in Boone’s death. Some facets of his reintegration happened way too fast. Locke continued to play coy, and hide the Hatch from people, even when that omission cost Boone his life. Said and Locke are both on journeys, involving wholeness – that are currently going in opposite directions. Said lost Nadia. Locke regains the use of his legs. But spiritually and ethically, Said is more whole, while Locke is only really connected to the Island.

Said isn’t perfect, however. He doesn’t listen to Shannon or comfort her or relate to her. As a cute meet they work, but once Boone dies, Said isn’t emotionally there for Shannon. To Said’s credit, he doesn’t know what to do or how to help her. They are no longer equally yoked, and they temporarily go their separate ways. Heartbroken, Said then gets Locke to take him to the Hatch. Locke can’t manipulate or push around Said, like he did to Boone.

Locke becomes the Losties’ mercenary, their meat shield, against the Others. Rightfully, no one trusts Locke anymore. Even Walt gives up on him. Somewhere, on the road to perdition, paved with good intentions, one passes the greater good fallacy and the problem of evil. Locke passes the moral event horizon, when Boone dies.

Boone was a person. He was even an OK person – definitely not an evil person. He died a hero, but he didn’t deserve to be sacrificed, for the so-called “greater good.” The stakes were higher. He wasn’t just some random, part-time lifeguard; he was a member of the Losties’ tribe. Boone’s death wasn’t about Jack, or Shannon, or Locke, or even Said. It was about Boone.