__Review of Macross F: The Movie Version – Itsuwari no Utahime __
Itsuwari no Utahime is the first cinematic film of Macross Frontier, released in 2009, and its title [イツワリノウタヒメ] can be translated as ‘The False Songstress’. The first necessary clarification, I would say, is that the two Frontier films are not simply compilations of scenes seen in the TV series, but, as Macross has accustomed us to since the immortal Ai oboete imasu ka?, they represent an alternative version of the TV series. Although they feature the same characters and story, they follow a different evolution and have their own distinct narrative. This doesn’t mean that there aren’t points of contact with their “twin” version: the first film, in particular – this one – during its first hour retraces, albeit with differences and different traits, roughly the first quarter of the series, only to then take completely different paths in the second half of the film. On the other hand, the second movie, Sayonara no Tsubasa, has no connection to the TV series and presents two completely new hours of footage (and, of course, with its own conclusion, different from the TV series). Now, some might be confused by this duplication, and particularly ask themselves why the TV and cinematic versions always diverge and present different stories, often with contrasting endings to those of their counterpart. Well, the answer lies in statements directly from Kawamori, released at the time, where he said: “If I tell the story in the length of a TV series, it looks one way, and if I tell it as a movie-length story, it’s organized another way…” And I agree with this philosophy: after all, TV and film are two very different mediums, especially in terms of time constraints, so it makes perfect sense that the narrative methods change from one to the other. And, to conclude this introductory section, in light of the above statements, others might ask: which of these two versions follows the continuity? The answer [I love seeing people go crazy]: both. Or perhaps it would be more accurate to say that in Macross, there is no concept of continuity, given the frequent dual versions. Since I couldn’t care less about the concept of continuity, the probably correct way to approach it would be to consider the two versions as competitors to each other—two parallel tracks, both existing and distinct, each following its own course.
Special Blu-Ray cover for the film drew by Ebata Risa, the official character designer for the series First Part of the Film
As mentioned, the first hour of the film roughly presents the greatest points of contact with the TV series, aided by the fact that it serves as the introductory part – and, as such, is marked by calmness. A noteworthy addition, and one of my absolute favorites, is that Sheryl has finally been given a cellphone with the same properties as Ranka’s, creating a clear contrast between the two. This phone takes the shape of a taiyaki [たい焼き – literally ‘baked sea bream’, it’s a Japanese sweet shaped like a fish, with the most common filling being anko (sweet red bean paste)], in a pink color, and represents the perfect embodiment of Japanese kawaii.
Another quite significant change is that in this version, Sheryl, like Ranka, also knows Aimo (a song that in the TV series was sung only by Ranka); narratively speaking, this makes perfect sense, given that Sheryl’s grandmother worked with Ranshe, and it’s entirely plausible that Sheryl’s mother – Sally – visited the planet where Mao conducted her research, and that she, just like Ranshe, passed down the song to little Sheryl. One of the cutest moments in the first part of the film is definitely the date between Alto and Sheryl – significantly enriched compared to the TV series – during which the two first visit the city of Frontier, then move to the countryside, exploring its diverse flora, including forests and lakes. These scenes set in natural environments not only offer beautiful moments of interaction between the two characters but, right by the lake, Sheryl will reveal to Alto some information about the song Aimo and share some childhood memories.
One of the reasons the cinematic version is always well received is because it provides the ideal opportunity to introduce new songs – one of Macross’s standout features – along with new costumes and choreography. And regarding the first hour of this film, what can we say about the new songs introduced? I’d say a lot. First of all, the first song Sheryl performs in her opening concert in the film is a brand-new track (so there is no “Don’t be late” as her debut song): and here comes Universal Bunny. Sung by May’n and composed by Yoko Kanno, this song is another incredible piece that (re)claims its place among the best songs ever performed by Sheryl. There’s so much to say about this track, so I’ll focus on the most significant details. As for the setting, the arena where Sheryl performs is, of course, specially designed, consisting of a multitude of golden gears, arranged both vertically and horizontally, with some stacked upon one another. So, the theme, at first glance, seems to be time: however, if we look at the lyrics of the song, there are no direct references to time itself, so in relation to the song, the element of time serves more as a context, as the backdrop to the song. Nevertheless, due to the presence of the gears, a clear symbol of time, the references to it are undeniable. So where can we gather more information about this song – that ties it more directly to the element of time? The Nyan Kuri music video comes to our aid here: Universal Bunny is the first song we see featured in this video, and it is preceded by a speech from Sheryl, where she talks about time in response to the interviewer’s question on the subject. The Diva expresses the following about time: “Time? I hate it. I hate the passing of time. I don’t like being constrained by anything. But I love the moment. The moment has no past… every day slips away. Reminds you of a very energetic little rabbit, right? […]” This last phrase is said as she looks at a pocket watch, and then, through a superb transition, the scene shifts to her performance of Universal Bunny, featuring the rotating golden gears. This dialogue is quite significant as it gives us a pretty complete picture of Sheryl’s philosophy about time, a philosophy that seems to align perfectly with that of Horace, who despised the general flow of time [aetās] and instead valued its smaller portions [hence the famous "carpe diem" or "seize the day"]; furthermore, it seems to explain the origin of the title of the song, since Sheryl explicitly compares it to an "energetic little rabbit," thus providing a logical thread to the entire conversation. Returning to the music video, it also stands out for another feature, typical of Sheryl’s performances, as we’ve already seen: its visual beauty and immense spectacle. Universal Bunny is the epitome of this: a song where the singer performs on gear-shaped platforms, supported by clockwork men as background dancers, amid light shows, stunning visuals, and overwhelming choreography, with the two Bunny Sheryls [White and Black] towering on the screen. As for the other main theme of the song, we have the figure of the rabbit: throughout the song, and this can easily be deduced from the lyrics, there is a continuous play on the contrast between the White Rabbit and the Black Rabbit (as will later be the case, similarly, in the Idol music video by Yoasobi), representing the classic opposition between two opposite and antithetical forces (like yin and yang).
*I'm your invincible bunny with a soul made of black I'm a trap you get caught in and you'll never get out I attract rogues and I crush them down I'll capture your eyes willingly or not I'm your fragile bunny with a soul made of white I'm looking upwards, I'm desperate to fly I'm overflowing with sweet melting love And sick of the same old strawberry stars*
And the typical alternation between the two extremes is also referenced toward the end of the song:
*Black or white, confusion and ecstasy Dark or light, fighting and embracing me Truth or doubt, a lie that deludes you I'm already always so good around you Mocking being almost moved by the love of one or two Heaven or hell, karma has nowhere to go But still you try to guide me through this troubled rendezvous*
The music video, however, finds one of its moments of glory in the appearance of the Black Bunny—this is another story. Beyond its great sensuality and sexiness, other aspects of undeniable appreciation include the flawless synchronization between the song’s lyrics and the corresponding visuals on screen, as well as the excellent transitions, which make the viewer’s experience much more immersive. In short, while there is no Don’t Be Late, Universal Bunny has literally everything it needs to enchant the viewer once again and take them to a state of pure ecstasy, being just as impactful and epic on screen as Iteza was in the TV series.▶ Video
Continuing on the sound aspect, there are two other songs in the first part that deserve mention: the first is Welcome To My Fanclub’s Night!, the song that Sheryl sings after Universal Bunny during her debut live performance on Frontier at the beginning of the film. This song is not as new as the latter, since it’s already heard a few times in the TV series (particularly during episode fifteen), but what is new and fresh is its lively choreography. We don’t see much of it, but the little we do see is more than enough to make us smile and enjoy ourselves. For this performance, Sheryl wears a typical cowgirl outfit, which is really cute, and with it, she carries a pink revolver – yes, Sheryl is always characterized by her femininity, just like her cellphone, which is also the same color – (and this revolver literally shoots hearts; we appreciate the creativity). The sequence in which she performs is quite amusing because Sheryl starts teasing Alto – who is performing his flight choreography as usual – by shooting gunshots at him. This annoys the guy, and he essentially engages in a distant quarrel with the singer, which is quite funny. Sheryl, the notorious prankster, couldn’t care less and keeps provoking him: after skillfully twirling the gun, she starts running on the platform where she’s standing, prompting Alto to follow her with a gesture of his hand, and she jumps off the platform with the explicit intent of having him catch her mid-air as a sort of challenge. So, with this trick, even in this version, just like in the TV series, Sheryl falls during her performance, with the difference that while in the series, her fall is actually a mistake made by Alto, who gets too cocky, here, it’s all planned, and Sheryl throws herself intentionally, adding that extra thrill to her performance.▶ Video
The last song I absolutely have to talk about, although unfortunately it doesn’t get much screen time, is Pink Monsoon: an entirely new track, it is used as an insert song for the first scenes of the date between Alto and Sheryl in the first quarter of the film, and we only hear the first verse. Beyond the fact that the song perfectly and impeccably accompanies these scenes, it’s really a waste that we only get to hear the first verse. In my opinion, it’s one of Sheryl’s best songs by far (and perhaps one of her fans' favorites too), and not so much because of its narrative significance (it doesn’t have any, in fact) or the beauty of the lyrics – which, however, are nothing short of brilliant and extremely sensual; Pink Monsoon plays heavily on indulgence – but for the brilliance and intrinsic wonder of the song's composition and melodies, which I find absolutely extraordinary. After all, when two geniuses like Yoko Kanno and May’n – who has a phenomenal vocal range – come together, it’s not hard to imagine that a masterpiece of this kind could come out of it.
*Baby pink monsoon Baby pink monsoon Lady sings LOVE, hum... A scandal to the point of fogging up the glass window Baby pink monsoon Baby pink monsoon Lady sings LOVE, hum... I want you to do as you please, don't stop*
However, there is another verse of this song that is worth focusing on, and this is because Pink Monsoon is indeed a song with the "classic diva style," but it contains some important clues about the status of its singer. The verse in question is as follows:
*I won't forgive you If you make me realize that it would've been better if I'd stayed alone*
This verse is extremely relevant to the discomfort of its singer, and it will be a theme we’ll address later in the analysis. But it’s particularly fitting. To be completely honest, this addition I’m writing now is retrospective, as I never noticed there was such a meaningful verse about Sheryl in this song; I only paid attention to it after reading an interview with May’n and Nakajima Megumi, and as soon as I read that snippet, I couldn’t help but agree with what was being said. For the sake of completeness, I think it’s important to highlight this aspect as well, especially since it’s always connected to one of the themes of this analysis. In fact, not only that: this is exactly a phrase Sheryl would say. I’m sure of it. In short, Pink Monsoon, you are truly an amazing song, from every point of view.
youtube(https://youtu.be/UxBqxXtD9Lc?si=AzRe5_seDn9iCvp8 ) Pink Monsoon (live version) by May’n – such a beautiful and captivating song that, once you’ve heard it, it just won’t leave your head
Second Part of the Film
Having briefly covered the first part of the film, highlighting the necessary points, I’d say it’s time to move on to the next part, which definitely adds much more complexity. The premise is as follows: in both versions, I’ve always found it difficult to choose one over the other, as I’ve always liked them both. But, after my recent rewatches, and without taking anything away from the TV series, I think I’ve started to prefer the cinematic versions just a little bit more. The main reason I think is that, in these versions, some themes are, in my opinion, better explored or represented. And there are quite a few clear examples of this, which I will explain here one by one. Let’s start then with the male protagonist of the story, Alto Saotome: the son of an exceptional and illustrious kabuki actor (a form of traditional Japanese theater), Saotome Ranzō, Alto followed in his father’s footsteps and was trained as such from a very young age, being recognized by everyone as a prodigy. We know, from the TV series, that the boy had a particularly conflicted and tense relationship with his father, which persists throughout the story. His father is a very strict, stoic man, now nearing old age. Probably, in the long run, Alto struggled to stay in the spotlight, likely due to the pressure and the high expectations from his father (also because the boy is set to be the next heir of the family), which led to bitter conflicts with him. Another reason was the apparent ‘lack of affection’ from his father (Alto lost his mother, whom he was very close to, at a young age; his father has never been particularly inclined to give him much attention, probably because he plays more of a mentor role than that of a traditional parent). But most of all, the boy saw that world as a cage, preventing him from dedicating himself to what he considered his true passion: flying. In the TV series, however, the reasons for Alto’s rejection of the kabuki stage and his calling as an actor are not particularly explored. His distance from them is almost always treated as a mere escape, simply because the boy apparently hates his father and no longer wants anything to do with him, in order to focus solely on his passion for flying. But by presenting it this way, his escape ends up seeming more like a mere whim on Alto's part, who selfishly and immaturely refuses to return to his home. His adopted brother often reproaches him, saying (and in part wrongly) that his passion for flying is just an excuse to stay away from home, and that he’s just playing the role of a "rebellious student" who has fallen in love with something else. This is something Alto is good at, as his brother reminds him; he’s still a great actor at heart (even if he won’t admit it). And while his passion for flying is real, all of this still affects his character, who in the TV series doesn’t receive much depth. Alto is portrayed as a childish, stubborn brat, and when you think about it, he doesn’t undergo much of a growth arc, remaining a bit flat from the beginning to the end of the story. In the film, however, the reasons behind Alto’s departure from the kabuki world are explored more deeply, giving a much-welcome and, particularly, interesting development. In one scene of the film, during a conversation with Ranka on the subway, Alto reveals the truth behind his escape from the stage: he was afraid. He was afraid of himself and his own kabuki acting abilities. He says that whenever he played a role—no matter which one, as he has done countless roles—he felt as if he were ‘possessed by a terrifying power,’ to the point that it was as if the fictional character he portrayed suddenly took control of his body. Alto was so flawless in his acting that he felt confused about who the real person was in that moment, or conversely, he felt that every time he took on a different character, his own existence as Saotome Alto slowly faded away from the world. A real identity crisis, which led to a great fear and ultimately drove him to run away and distance himself from that world. A rational, straightforward explanation that ties perfectly with the theme of acting, and is particularly fascinating as a discourse, which finally gives the much-needed introspection to his character, something lacking in the TV series. With this alone, the films earn a solid point in their favor.
And not long after, we get a perfect demonstration of all this: following a certain event, which I will discuss shortly, Alto, who still has the other earring of Sheryl that she lost (just like in the TV series) and which we know has the ability to transmit feelings and emotions, decides to wear it. As expected, Sheryl's emotions suddenly pour into him, causing the two to become perfectly in tune with one another. Well, in this moment, Alto is literally portraying Sheryl; he behaves exactly like her, and in fact, even their movements and voices overlap, further accentuating this impersonation. Certainly, the quartz play a decisive role here, as most of the work is done by them, with Alto delving deep into the girl's soul. But precisely because of this, by behaving exactly as though he himself were Sheryl, the film gives the audience a perfect practical demonstration of what the boy meant earlier in his conversation with Ranka. And all of this takes place in his private quarters, wrapped in total darkness, partially illuminated by the glow of a candle—an object of undeniable, suggestive charm—that creates an intimate, almost poetic atmosphere, in one of my absolute favorite scenes of the entire film.
An additional theme in the cinematic versions, which was absent in the TV series, is the struggle for resources between Frontier and Galaxy (more from the former than the latter). The two twin fleets would be in competition with each other to acquire the primary and most valuable resources, essentially represented by the Vajra's home planet, as it is a habitable place for humans, in the classic "first come, first served" fashion. This theme, which is not present in the TV series, brings with it a second one: I’m referring to the subplot of potential espionage by Galaxy. And up until now, you might say: well, what’s different from the other version? Actually, we know that it’s really true—Galaxy is indeed plotting something behind everyone’s back concerning Grace and the other so-called computer gurus. Yes, except this time, the suspicion of espionage also involves— the completely innocent—Sheryl, who is believed to be a spy sent by her native fleet to gather information on Frontier or sabotage it in some way. This added component, which includes Sheryl’s possible involvement, is what gives the story of this version an entirely different twist compared to the TV series. This never-before-seen subplot starts planting its seeds right here in Itsuwari, which in its second part takes an entirely different direction from what we knew, until it explodes and finds its resolution in the second film of the duology, with a precise narrative twist that we will address in due time. But the point is, it starts to take root right here, in this first film.
And just as the seed of doubt begins to be planted, which will also affect Alto, and which will cause him to begin doubting poor Sheryl, the turning point of the film will also occur, which will serve as a gateway to a completely different narrative evolution from the TV series: believing that Sheryl has malevolent intentions toward Ranka, after noticing them chasing each other across the fields, the boy throws himself into their pursuit and once he catches up with them, he shoves the singer, throwing her to the ground. She obviously doesn’t take it well at all and immediately makes it clear how disappointed she is by his behavior, stating that she evidently had a different idea about him. The disillusionment and darkness of her heart are further accentuated and reflected by the imminent storm that is about to hit Frontier, bringing with it a gray and dark atmosphere. Sheryl, due to Alto’s sudden cold and distant behavior, has suffered a severe blow, a deep wound to her soul from the boy she had fallen in love with, precisely at the moment when, perhaps, she had achieved the highest level of intimacy with him (during their date); in short, she suffers a true "emotional damage," as it is called by Galaxy’s gurus during a conversation with Colonel Grace, who, however, assures them that Sheryl doesn’t necessarily need to be happy to complete their plan, as she is "the type of person who uses anger and sadness as energy to infuse into her songs.
Towards the last half hour, more or less, the issues come to light: in reality, it’s not so much Galaxy that wants to seize the resources—setting aside the conspiracy of its gurus—but rather Frontier, which seems to be more interested in this goal. The recent rumors of mistrust—including the one about Sheryl being a possible spy—were actually spread to cover up these intentions. Meanwhile, Galaxy’s fleet undergoes a massive attack from the Vajra, who in this version are also strengthened with new classes and species, and suffers significant losses, ultimately being abandoned by Frontier to its grim fate. When Sheryl learns of the attack and the damage done to her home fleet, she immediately takes action to ensure someone does something about it. In the end, using the power of money, she buys the entire SMS fleet (which, I remind you, is a paramilitary organization, so even though well-paid, it is more than willing to accept such transactions) and asks them to carry out a desperate rescue mission to her Galaxy.
During the battle to save her, Sheryl will also hold her Revenge Live on Frontier (renamed because her first concert had been interrupted by the first Vajra attack on the fleet, right at the beginning of the film), which takes place in the port area and has been specially set up with an incredibly cool pirate ship as a stage for her performance. This impressive and suggestive setting undeniably adds extra flair to the concert, which indeed turns out to be amazing: the diva performs all the best songs from her repertoire, starting with Iteza Don’t Be Late and then moving on to Diamond Crevasse, which is introduced in a similar way to Infinity in the TV series— as a celebratory song dedicated to all the soldiers on the front lines fighting, risking their lives, and possibly never returning home to their loved ones, including, of course, her beloved Alto. As extraordinary as it is, it never fails to impress, always fitting perfectly, and always managing to move you, especially with the dedication Sheryl makes before she starts singing. Additionally, with it, Sheryl presents a new outfit, very cute and in a sky-blue color (which I found out, by pure coincidence, is called 'Ondine d'Amour'). However, Sheryl will not manage to finish singing it because the Vajra manage to break through the defenses and penetrate Island One, starting to lay it to waste, thus interrupting her performance.
The situation appears dramatic, with the city under siege by the enemies, and the number of innocent civilians steadily increasing. Even Sheryl, amid the crossfire, is tossed around, putting her safety at risk. In the face of these horrors, Ranka decides to take control of the situation and, realizing that the Vajra are specifically after her, chooses to lure them away to act as bait, inevitably ending up captured by them. But just when all seems lost, here comes the winning lifeline: Sheryl refuses to give up, and remembering that, like Ranka, she can influence the Vajra with her song, and recalling the moments spent with Alto, she begins to sing with determination and conviction. The song in question, also unreleased, is Obelisk (オベリスク), which, as expected, is performed as the third song in her Revenge Live. It’s another extraordinary song—credited to Kanno Yoko and May’n—and one of the film's key highlights. The entire sequence in which Sheryl performs Obelisk is beautiful in every aspect: from the animation, the environment, and the costume she wears, to the significance the song takes on in this crucial moment of the film. This scene unfolds shortly after Ranka’s abduction by the Vajra and the apparent impending defeat of Frontier, which is under siege by the Vajra. Right from the start, the scene strikes the audience as impactful, partly because Sheryl quickly changes her costume and leaps onto the pirate ship’s bowsprit, running to the elevated stage on the ship from where she will perform, and partly because the beginning of the song is extremely beautiful and quite poetic.
*Like a small bird finding the light of dawn I begin to realise To the faint omens of my beating heart The sleeping world has yet to know[...] Because I loved I knew despair The strength to grasp in this hand Even if I lose it, even if I lose it Swear upon those tears Possessed by miracles Flying over the rubble In a rising curve[...] Why am I distancing myself from who I want to be? Airplanes sully the sky Rather than freezing in true loneliness People can become this cruel In the darkness that protected me My eyes swell (with tears) and I pray Even if I lose it, even if I lose it[...]*
The previous sequences, in which we see the girl walking across the scaffolding of the ship and climbing the staircase while she has already started singing and running imperiously, are very beautiful. Once she reaches the top, her performance, with the help of her manager Grace, begins to be broadcast across all of Frontier, and as additional amplifiers, all the sails of the ship are used as giant screens: the diva’s voice, thus, reaches the ears of all the citizens, who begin to rejoice, cheering and regaining a hope that, given the situation, seemed like a distant mirage. In addition to being a source of reassurance for all the civilians, the setting undeniably adds further value: the pirate ship, besides being very enticing, truly gives the song an extra aura of solemnity, through which its impact on the audience becomes increasingly intense. ▶ Video Obelisk's beginning sequence
As for the artwork, well, throughout the entire Obelisk sequence, it's truly excellent, with that classic fine, light, and clean line work that always drives me crazy:
And as for the costume, I must say the Obelisk version is one of my absolute favorites: it gives Sheryl great elegance, pride, and power, and I also find the outfit itself particularly beautiful and sensual. My absolute favorite part is the footwear, in a deep red, equipped with both heels and crossed laces that wrap around her ankles. The song, finally, serves as the perfect accompaniment for the subsequent action scenes related to the battle shown on screen, which can only be described as "space battles"—and even that is an understatement (some of them are truly a visual delight, especially the ones where Alto, aboard his Messiah, chases the mantis-like Vajra that has kidnapped poor Ranka).
Finally, as the last song, Lion will be sung, once again by Sheryl wearing her Obelisk costume, which effectively closes her Revenge Live. The situation ultimately turns in favor of our protagonists, who manage to repel the final attack of the Vajra, with Alto simultaneously saving Ranka from the one who had captured her. The ending of Itsuwari, in my opinion, comes across as particularly poetic: after the battle ends, the reunited trio of protagonists finds themselves on the platform from which Sheryl had continued to perform until just before, located on the pirate ship. Here, Alto first informs Sheryl of the good news—that some Galaxy ships have survived—and then thanks both her and Ranka for magnificently fulfilling their roles, namely, singing beautifully. He then tries to return the earring with the quartz, still in his possession, to Sheryl, but she refuses its return, telling the boy that he can keep it as a good luck charm. In all of this, pure snow begins to fall from the sky, enveloping all of Frontier and bringing with it peace and silence, in perfect contrast to the recent conflict, almost as if to honor the fallen soldiers with deep respect—hence, Ozma will describe it as "funeral" snow. In this particularly evocative and atmospheric moment—the film is almost over—Sheryl suddenly thanks Alto and Ranka. The reason for these sincere thanks becomes clear immediately after, when the girl says: “You made me realize I’m not alone [...]”. Thus, here is the final theme touched upon by the film: from this firm statement by Sheryl, we can deduce in contrast what had been—more accurately, what had always been—the main source of her torment: the inner turmoil called loneliness. And this is a disturbance perfectly in line with the sad past that characterized her childhood: always alone, abandoned to herself, with no warmth around her, forced to fight for her survival. It’s entirely understandable that she would have developed this existential condition; a condition that, in fact, continued to trouble her until now, despite her rise as a singer and growing fame. Well, it is precisely now that she has come to realize that she is no longer alone, thanks to the proximity and warmth of the two people closest to her now: her best friend Ranka and the man she loves, Alto. And it was exactly this that the boy, ‘interpreting her,’ had seen: during these moments, the earring showed him memories of Sheryl—during which we see the girl alone, curled up on herself—and with them, all her deepest fears (that’s why I said Alto "scans her soul," because he can see all of her concerns in depth). I’m not saying that the theme of loneliness concerning Sheryl’s character wasn’t present in the other version, but from my point of view, here it is not only more thoroughly explored but also made much more explicit compared to how it was before, and as such, it’s further accentuated. So, we score two more points for the cinematic versions (the deeper exploration of Alto’s fears and his distance from the Kabuki world, as well as this clearer articulation of Sheryl’s emotional pain, are particularly pleasing to me, and from a content perspective, I consider them some of the best aspects of the film). The movie ends with a beautiful close-up of the girl, still drawn with extreme tenderness, as she remains on the ship’s platform watching the sky together with Ranka and Alto, who are positioned slightly behind her—and with their arrangement, they form a triangle; could it be a coincidence?—under the thick snowfall, with some snowflakes landing on her face and shortly thereafter starting to melt, gently sliding down her face.
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