Sport runs in the veins of the Inomata family. In her time, Taichi’s mother played basketball at the same high school her son goes to. Less suited for team efforts, her son has taken up badminton, where the struggle and the glory rest squarely on his shoulders. At the gym, the turmoil of bouncing basketballs, ping pong tables, and a fierce crowd of rhythmic gymnasts resounds every day. But there is a time of peace before that. When the morning light comes through the windows, Taichi meets Chinatsu-senpai, the radiant ace of the basketball team, as they are the first ones to come to train. They don’t talk, and Taichi’s friends Kyo and Hina are quick to point out that Chinatsu is out of his league. But one day, she accidentally hits him while practicing an elbow pass, and apologizes with a treat. The next morning, she laughs when he hears her sneeze and clumsily gives her his scarf, pocket warmer, and gloves. That evening, he forgets something at the gym, and Chinatsu-senpai challenges him to an improvised one-on-one match. They talk. Might Taichi have a chance after all? Or is he too hot-blooded to keep his cool?

Okay, this was fun! Going to a place hoping you will meet your crush; silent admiration; horrifying blunders; agonizing reenactment; awkward conversations where everything goes magically well. Blue Box masterfully depicts the small horrors and joys of first love, its uncertainties, and its absurdities. Despite the everyday nature of the story, it managed to draw me in. Taichi is extremely relatable: almost painfully so, but not quite. He made me laugh out loud by fantasizing about Chinatsu marrying him and fixing his tie, becoming ecstatic about the most insignificant interactions, and casually asking Hina, a friend who might like him, what sort of thing girls like in a man. His intentions are good, though, and his interactions with Chinatsu are wonderfully elevated by a strong artistic direction, featuring luminous visuals, powerful music, and attention to the little details, to create what (so far) is an engaging, slightly nostalgic little tale. The direction makes it easy to see why Taichi is in awe of the warm yet enigmatic basketball prodigy. The show feels self-aware, too, playing with the genre tropes in a way I enjoyed. Though I am not a fan of the final development of the episode in concept, I might like it in execution. Will we get a Toradora or an OreGairu, masterfully depicting the mirages, shadows, and potential for nobility found in immature love? One can hope. At least, I hope it continues being this funny.

Blue Box can be streamed on Netflix.