‘The Summer Hikaru Died’ Episode 11 review: “Indo’s Sin”

There’s a lyrical, gentle sorrow that traverses the space of The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 11. Grief is such an integral part of the core story that it’s not necessarily surprising that it appears, but surprising in how it manifests. Mastering a poetic, accessible narrative, “Indo’s Son” finds new ways to bottle pervasive sadness and isolation. With thoughtful precision, the penultimate episode tears down a few more walls to expose the humanity of its characters – especially the one dubbed “monster.”

The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 11 deals with a lot of lore due to the fallout of Episode 10, where Yoshiki (Chiaki Kobayashi) and Hikaru both learned more about what Hikaru (Shūichirō Umeda) is and the reason for his existence. But it’s the unraveling of Hikaru’s family’s place in it that creates the strongest thematic throughline. Because it all leads to those who came before. Yoshiki may not wish to bear the same burdens as his father, but he knowingly walks in his shadow. The difference, however, is the time Yoshki has at his disposal. The time with this “Hikaru” who openly cries, whereas human Hikaru kept his genuine emotions bottled up.

The scene between Yoshiki and his father is a strong example of how exposition-heavy scenes don’t necessarily require stagnation. Instead, the sequence finds beauty in the framing, with Yoshiki sitting outside the home, back to it, as he worries lacks a place for him, while Yoshiki is inside, their backs to one another. His father explains the Indo sin, how, following the death of the family’s leader centuries ago, he begged the mountain god to return her. In return, he’d sacrifice the lives of others as a consequence.

The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 11 delivers an emotional gut punch. 

But this only brought greater, unmitigated suffering, as a third of the village dies horrific, mystifying deaths, with the Indo leaders’ wife dying the next day despite being reanimated. Love led to ruin, and the Indo family dealt a heavy toll because of it. A mystery remains, though.

We still don’t know what led to the death of Hikaru’s father, Kohei, who died after he begged the village elders to stop the ritual. And we don’t know just what Kohei knew regarding Nonuki’s presence on the mountain and what it meant. But we’re able to start piecing things together, perhaps ultimately realizing that he knew too much and, like the Indo line before him, suffered.

But it’s not the lore that makes The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 11 so moving, but a brief exchange between father and son. Yoshiki’s father explains that he worries that soon he won’t belong at their home. He’s just laid bare the fact that he cared deeply for Kohei – likely loved him, though he doesn’t say as much plainly. Instead, when Yoshiki asks his dad if belonging is really all that important, he’s dealt this bruising blow:

“Folks tend to crave what they don’t have enough of.”

It’s a devastating and introspective line that speaks to the power of the series and the thematic undercurrents. Following a near-disaster where Hikaru nearly transforms into Nonuki, drawn to Yoshiki’s soul, and begins to mix with him, Hikaru must contend with what this means. He believes he’s truly a monster who deserves to go back to the mountain – to be alone, feared, and ostracized. And yet the “monster” weeps as Rei looks on, and she too is unable to see something worthy of dispelling.

The Summer Hikaru Died refuses a neat and tidy presentation. It’s a story about a haunting with twinges of body horror. The series even finds laughs in the chaos of being a teenager – no matter the terror creeping in around the edges. But, more than anything, it’s the foundation of a love story. A story about two boys – a boy and his monster, if you will – looking for a place to belong. A home.

There’s a reason Hikaru is drawn to Yoshki’s light and the manifestation of the heat of the soul. There’s a reason why Yoshiki is so desperate to protect this version of Hikaru, no matter the differences. Together, they’re able to stave off the staggering loneliness threatening to suffocate them, in turn, for a sense of tremulous camaraderie and comfort.

The artistry on display remains a staggering achievement. 

In The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 11, the writing underscores the generational pain of such a search. And, through Yoshiki’s father, it becomes clear how the lack of a place to call home and the absence of a person who brings light into the village (in the case of Kohei) can leave someone rudderless and apathetic.

Beyond the story, “Indo’s Sin” continues to excel. The animation of Hikaru’s unraveling as the tendrils of Nonuki reach for Yoshiki is wonderfully unsettling. And the direction by Aimi Yamauchi captures the magnitude of Hikaru’s decision, as he sits mourning a life not yet his at Rei’s table while trying to pretend he’s okay with his status as a monster. And, as has been the case since the very start, the music is a key feature in achieving the eerie atmosphere. Taro Umebayashi’s score is superb, composing a masterful blend of dissonant notes that culminates in a striking, subdued, yet melancholy sonic portrait. Nothing is as it seems, and yet the emotions ring true.

The penultimate episode of Season 1 confirms what we already knew: the adaptation is a masterpiece. The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 11 underscores the brilliance of the series while bringing forth new elements that help enrich the text and build out greater lore. The sadness that emanates is staggering as it begs us all for greater compassion and understanding for those looking from the outer fringes, in dire need of someone to welcome them home.

The Summer Hikaru Died Episode 11 is out now on Netflix. 

Images courtesy of CygamesPictures. 

Allyson Johnson

Based in New England, Allyson is co-founder and Editor-in-Chief of InBetweenDrafts. Former Editor-in-Chief at TheYoungFolks, she is a member of the Boston Society of Film Critics and the Boston Online Film Critics Association. Her writing has also appeared at CambridgeDay, ThePlaylist, Pajiba, VagueVisages, RogerEbert, TheBostonGlobe, Inverse, Bustle, her Substack, and every scrap of paper within her reach.