Adachi and Shimamura is what results in a blend between two sets of rather opposite ingredients with their own special effects and preferable gourmet utilization, which unexpectedly coalesce so smoothly and naturally by the support of destiny and fate into a compound of pure, wholesome romance between two girls.

The primary sensation I have of reading Adachi and Shimamura for the past 3-4 months is one that one might feel on a journey on the boundless bodies of water, where the mode of transportation constantly changes, ranging from a relaxing afternoon on a lifebuoy as I feel the waves moving me so and so, to and fro, an experience on a cruise ship with minimal personnel, and to a deep underwater dive as I transform into a purebred marine creature exploring the sensibilities of human persons in the likes of our main characters--where in every expedition, a shore is present, perfectly allocated in the most appropriate coordinates such that the reader would experience comfortable pacing and feel a sort of longing on both terrestrial and aquatic territories as they travel from one place to another, thus an appreciation for both the yin and the yang and the two pairs of ingredients arises.

I mention the abundance of travel, but truly, the momentum is that of a casual stroll to the gardens most of the time, as one carefully appreciates each and every species of flower present. You cannot feel seasick reading the light novel--on the contrary, actually. The passage of time progresses with grace, and you are inclined to embrace nature and its elements.

To talk about the series more concretely, I heavily adore how the guide leads us uphill even after the supposed peak of majority of romance stories--the confession and the getting-together. In Adachi to Shimamura, it only gets better in the succeeding events as the payoff from several volumes of the developmental stage provides much more substance to itself and its previous parts, the satisfaction coming from the realization of Adachi's dreams as the cherry blossom tree finally blooms affectionate, love-filled leaves following a whole youth's worth in the cryosphere, and the understanding of Shimamura and her own efforts to actually start to care about other people, shaving away the ice she's incased in, rendering her feet incapable of motion. The acknowledgment of dates, hand-holdings, sleepovers, bicycle rides, ping-pong matches, weird boomerang usages, a long, long time of overthinking, sleepless nights, self-loathing, inertia, listlessness, and meaninglessness, all efforts of the two girls are rewarded, and continue to be, by the hard work of our two protagonists.

The prose is consistent and is written in a style which develops the centralized characters individually, and then the execution weaves the many subtle and clear metaphors together to form a cast filled with tranquil chemistry. The characters are usually likened using the elements of nature: animals, non-living entities, temperature, and so forth. Hence, the unity brought by their many interactions produces thoughts of "Man, these pairs are so perfect together, they complement each other so well that it always leaves me content," and "Man, these pairs are so perfect together, I wish I have my own significant someone soon." I felt the latter a great deal throughout the 10 volumes thus far, and it's a testament to the power of Iruma's penwork on romance. He awakens the poet within me.

Diverging slightly, Yashiro is such an interesting concept character. I love it every time she appears. Her being the embodiment of weirdness, mystery, and surprise in the vessel of a silly little child is always pleasurably entertaining to read. That is not to disregard her value within the context of the story. Yashiro as a younger version of Shimamura enhances the latter's characterization tremendously.

Staying on this tangent a bit, Adachi is so precious to me. Her character was something I absolutely needed in this phase of my transient life. Adachi lives her life to the fullest. She is so incredibly honest and expressive with her words and essentially her body gestures all over exposes so much about her personality that she literally becomes an open book. She is straightforward and moves one way only: forwards. A headstrong girl similar to a newborn chick, basically, she is a painful reminder of what I was, what I could be, what I should be, and what I shouldn't be, as a human being with a different deck of cards on hand. Adachi makes me cringe. She makes me feel itchy, exposed, and embarrassed. Yet, she makes me awestruck at how hardworking she is to achieve her dreams--to reach Shimamura and make her think about her a lot that in the end, Shimamura's closet of ice cracked and she became genuinely in love with Adachi, something I could never do in real life, no matter how much I want to.

It feels good when Shimamura initiates for Adachi. It feels good when Adachi is rewarded and she is granted the affection she seeks. I was honestly caught off guard with the approach Iruma took with their relationship and Adachi's character especially, how Adachi being all about Shimamura is tolerated despite its potential to be a full-on toxic potion. Still, they were able to work it out, and they became functional adults in the end even able to travel abroad. So it all worked out. Adachi still does not need any friends, whereas Shimamura still values her family and everything else to fill the hole of her heart.

It put me in contemplation: greed is perceived to be different in this case. Shimamura was represented as the one greedy for needing many things to complete her, but is that not the most common progression for society? Is not the epitome of greed Adachi, what with her galactic love for Shimamura, actually neglecting everything else? And so I arrived at a conclusion of how greed is actually not an objective scale, for even Adachi was able to make her own greed reasonable with her and her mother's conclusion.

What hinders this to break a 9 and above is perhaps the lack of fireworks conjured within me. Adachi to Shimamura, as I said, is more "moderate" in its writing, and I think that it wasn't enough to elicit strong feelings for me as I was reading (except for Shimamura's Sword though, that was SOMETHING). Additionally, perhaps I limited its impact myself by the unintended confines of relatability. I am moving on from such era of my life, and so the efficacy of the novel was enfeebled.

I did enjoy traversing the world of Adachi and Shimamura, and the time I spent reading this was definitely one I would not regret, as I have made a newfound appreciation of my own identity, and the fact of my puny existence.