Chihiro Onitsuka’s “Hotaru/Firefly” and Temporality/Eternality: Toward Interpretation of Works
~ Megumi Tsuji’s “Afterschool Girls,” Person of Interest, Disobedience, Carol, Thelma & Louise, The Hours ~
(日本語記事リンク)
(Note: The following contains spoilers for the TV series Person of Interest. There are also references to Megumi Tsuji’s Afterschool Girls, Person of Interest, Disobedience, Carol, Thelma & Louise, and The Hours.)
Chapter 1: Chihiro Onitsuka’s “Hotaru” and the Eternal Moment
Between June and August 2021, I watched the TV drama Person of Interest on Prime Video. This series is a masterpiece—both engaging and rich with sci-fi implications. For first-time viewers, I sometimes think it might be best to stop at episode 9 of season 5, as it feels conclusive at that point, though I will explain this reasoning later.
Spoiler alert
Regarding Person of Interest, I was particularly invested in the relationship between Sameen Shaw and Root, hoping for a happy ending. The ending of season 5 shocked me deeply, plunging me into a depressive state for about a month. I wasn’t alone in this, as evidenced by the fan-made Person of Interest | Alternate Ending (viewed nearly 900,000 times on YouTube), which aimed to mend this despair through reinterpretation.
That approach may work for some. However, to resolve my depressive state, I experienced a Copernican shift in my interpretation of the temporality of this world.
We often prioritize present (or future) events over past ones, valuing them based on the temporal flow from past to present to future, forming a single narrative. For example, even if two people love each other deeply, if they later part ways or one dies, it is perceived as a tragedy. This valuation—past < present (or future)—reduces even the most powerful love to fragility in the face of future uncertainty.
Living in such a world is unbearable for me. So, I began interpreting time differently: each moment coexists in parallel and is eternally preserved. The value of these moments doesn’t change due to subsequent events. My love for you at this moment, the feeling of your touch—all these are infinitely expansive and eternal.
This perspective made living much easier for me. A moment of brilliance persists as a primary, eternal entity. Previously, I feared the deaths of my parents, worried about losing a fixed point and feeling anxious to act before their passing. But now, I realize that my expressions of gratitude, joy, love, and affection are always primary and complete, with no urgent need to act further.
I decided to stop valuing events by temporal sequence and chose to live in a world of eternal moments.
One day, after adopting this view, I listened to Chihiro Onitsuka’s “Hotaru” and was struck by how it mirrored my interpretation of time.
Lyrics (excerpt):
Time, stand still
Stay in my hands
The single thread of rain ceases and disappears
Knowing that no one can become you
Perhaps that’s what they call eternityFeelings entwine like fingers
Gradually igniting this night
Slipping through the end of goodbyes
Even now, embracing the bodyFirefly, rise above this star Illuminate and dance near and far
You taught me that this moment is eternalTime, stand still
Stay in my hands
The shadow of light fades and falls
Our clasped hands grow warmer
Stay by my side, stay by my side repeatedly
Even now, embracing sorrowFirefly, rise above this darkness
Dance through the tear-blurred night sky
You taught me that this moment is everythingEven through the glass, it’s okay
I expose my helplessness
That summer I relied on the slightness of loveFirefly, rise above this star Illuminate
and dance near and far
You taught me that this moment is eternalFirefly, vividly sear the heart
(https://lyricstranslate.com/ja/chihiro-onitsuka-hotaru-lyrics.html)translated by rin
Shine strongly and weakly, and dance
You answered me that all time is a moment
You taught me that
Indeed, the song celebrates the eternal moment. “This moment is eternal,” and “all time is a moment”—each instant persists in parallel, eternally.
Initially, the narrator pleads for time to stop, indicating their entrapment in temporal valuation. But upon realizing that no one can become their beloved, they declare, “Perhaps that’s what they call eternity,” affirming the eternal moment and the notion that all time is a moment.
Both Onitsuka and I have transitioned from a world of temporal sequences to one of “eternal moments.”
(Note added on November 22, 2024, around 9 PM)
I have further explored this philosophy of “eternal moments” or “the eternity of a moment” in a blog post using the film About Time as a subject (see review). Additionally, while reading The Real Lotus Sutra (Hashizume & Ueki, Chikuma Shobo, 2015), I encountered the following passage:
“Some suggest that the Indian people’s transcendence of time, as seen in the assertion ‘The Buddha spoke the truth. What is written in this scripture is true. Therefore, it is what the Buddha preached,’ is also related to their timeless national character (from The Thinking Methods of the Indian People by Gen Naka).” (p. 27).
This “timeless national character” might relate to the “eternity of a moment.” I plan to read The Thinking Methods of the Indian People when I find the time.
Chapter 2: Expressive Techniques in Works Valuing Time
Recently, I read Megumi Tsuji’s Afterschool Girls, a finalist in the 2nd Genron Manga Award (see link and Amazon). Compared to other finalists, its completion level and the author’s intent are outstanding. It’s well-structured as a story.
However, for someone familiar with feminism, gender studies, and works depicting sexual minorities, it feels repetitive—a simple, realistic depiction of girls caught in societal norms from the romantic era of accidental homosexuality to a clichéd reality.
I can’t appreciate works that merely present problems without offering solutions. Anyone can raise issues, and once a problem is recognized in society, repeating it adds little value. As a creator, one should present interpretations or paths forward. Failing to do so feels intellectually lazy (though this might be my personal preference).
For instance, Thelma & Louise is exemplary. It doesn’t merely depict reality and raise questions but also attempts a philosophical and ideological transcendence of that reality. In contrast, Afterschool Girls and Disobedience merely portray reality, saying, “Here’s what’s real.” Is there artistic value in that? If they don’t provide an interpretive remedy, I would prefer an entertainment “salvation” like in Carol.
Realistic depictions of reality aren’t inherently bad. The Hours succeeds in being both realistic and cathartic, connecting people from past to present (or future) in a way that allows seemingly separate “hours” to merge into a challenging interpretive conquest.
If I were to create Afterschool Girls, I’d parallel the students during school and five years post-graduation, alternating scenes to emphasize the eternal brilliance and value preservation of fleeting moments.
Of course, readers can approach works with the “eternity of time” principle, but ideally, authors should incorporate interpretive elements within their works.
