At surface level, watching Aria is not unlike completing a jigsaw puzzle. Aria the Animation, as an introduction to Aqua, provides an assortment of puzzle pieces: individually, many are quite attractive, but it’s not always immediately apparent how they fit together. That said, watching Animation gradually allows you to lay out the puzzle border, at which point you can hone in on assembling its center, representing Aria the Natural’s focus on character and relationship building. Subsequently, Aria the Origination represents the placement of the final few pieces, after which you can sit back and admire the end product.

The picture produced by the puzzle is nothing out of the ordinary; after all, you could’ve easily Googled the same image and saved yourself some time. Likewise, Origination’s culmination is relatively predictable in the grand scheme—in fact, it’s possible to skip the 50 episodes separating Animation’s premiere and Origination’s finale and get the gist. The beauty of both, therefore, lies not only in the final product, but also the journey taken to achieve it: the gratification of watching tiny, seemingly unrelated decisions ultimately amount to an achieved goal.

Indeed, Aria is deceptively simple in its premise, electing to focus on more episodic snapshots rather than plot-driven narratives. We observe Alice, Aika, and Akari through thick and thin in numerous situations, ranging from advancements in their careers to more run-of-the-mill responsibilities like scraping barnacles off a gondola. The payoff of these seemingly unrelated segments may not be immediately apparent, yet they slowly (but surely) humanize these characters to the audience, inviting us to partake firsthand in their struggles, ambitions, and relationships. Rather than rely on sudden drama or climaxes to flesh out its characters, Aria takes its time introducing the world of Aqua; their interactions with each other and their environment, no matter how seemingly mundane, help contextualize their multifaceted personalities and motivations, giving them a well-roundedness I’ve seen in few other fictional characters. In other words, Aria does “show, don’t tell” proud, allowing us to fall in love with Neo-Venezia and delve into what makes these characters quintessentially themselves.

A buildup is hardly satisfying in the absence of a conclusion, however, nor is a journey complete without a buildup. In this manner, Origination capitalizes on the foundation laid by its predecessors to conclude their journeys not only as undines, but also as rapidly maturing teenagers. With the elusive Prima Undine title now in reach, the characters are forced to deal with the prospect of new burdens and increased separation from each other, making for palpable tension and nervous excitement throughout the season.

Though the futuristic world Akari, Aika, and Alice inhabit is fictional, their fear of the unknown is very much human, as are their insecurities; whether it be Aika’s competitiveness and lack of self confidence, Alice’s fear of losing her friends, or Akari’s reluctance to let go, I couldn’t help but sympathize with their struggles and root for them. These insecurities are nothing new, yet this season adds further nuances by pairing them with the pressures of impending adulthood, making for heightened emotional climaxes and conversations relative to the rest of the series. In doing so, Origination retains its iyashikei qualities while becoming an equally powerful statement regarding coming-of-age. As pure-hearted as the characters’ goals are, they’re still susceptible to the faults of adolescence, and their worldviews remain egocentric to an extent. The narration of Animation and Natural reflects as much, with inner monologues supplying the three main characters’ thoughts but not much beyond that; in other words, we only see as much as they do.

Origination, on the other hand, departs from this style to flesh out other characters’ perspectives on the three protagonists, catching not only them by surprise but also the viewers. Episode 4, for instance, shows Akari really come alive as an undine as she tries her hand at the traghetto. Akari is understandably nervous, yet her co-workers are quickly impressed by her skill and quick adaptation to the new challenge, and a heartfelt conversation about the pressures of becoming a Prima ensues. Narratively, this is the first time her skill as an undine is truly contextualized, giving her newfound motivation to work towards her promotion. As an audience, we finally see Akari reap the benefits of her countless practice montages and share in her validation; furthermore, we’re reminded that Akari isn’t alone in her insecurities and pursuits—a line of thought many teenagers fall victim to. Indeed, Origination builds on the mentor-student relationships to underscore how deep their love and respect for each other runs, while the protagonists remain as involved in Aqua’s culture as ever, making clear that these undines share a vast support system. Their future may be shrouded in uncertainty, but everyone has their backs as they step into their new roles and come into their own.

In the end, this relationship building is precisely what makes this season’s conclusion so powerfully moving. Origination comes full circle in a manner I’ve yet to see in another anime, illustrating both the fruits of the characters’ labor as well as the unfettered joy and renewal genuine connections can bring. Whether it be the top-notch soundtrack, the relaxing, healing atmosphere, the enigmas surrounding Aqua, or the heavily entrenched life themes, Aria truly offers something for everyone, making for an enrapturing series you can’t help but fall in love with.