A magnetic atmosphere that draws you in from frame 1. Tension so thick that you freeze, the air around you trapping you in with its sudden weight. Silence so total that you could hear a pin drop. Your eyes are glued to the screen. You hang on every word. You dare not even breathe, as if it would shatter the moment that 3 seasons worth of struggle and sacrifice has led up to. And perhaps the greatest accomplishment of all, successfully conveying a feeling that can't be fully explained with words.

I was not really prepared for how truly cinematic Hibike! Euphonium is - there is painstaking care put into every glance, every word, every shaft of light, and every patch of shadow. It's not afraid to simply stop and let you take it all in, to simply play music and let your imagination wander. And the best part is that the presentation is not even this show's greatest strength - it's the characters.

Kumiko made a promise to Reina back in Season 1 - she promised that only the best players should play, that nothing would take precedence over the National Gold. A promise that she intends to keep.

One thing that Kumiko is sorely missing after Asuka's graduation is a foil - someone to challenge her frustratingly consistent neutrality and dedication to that promise. In this season, we get two - Kanade and Kuroe.

Kanade is the devil on her shoulder, as if the blood-red eyes weren't a dead giveaway. She is a viper, waiting for her senpai to show even a single moment of weakness, so that she can strike and rip Kumiko's neutrality apart. But Kumiko never yields - she doubles down, insists that the best player should play, no matter what.

Kuroe appears as the angel at first, caring, competent, and kind. However it quickly becomes apparent that she's more like a mirror of Kumiko. She asks probably a dozen times over the course of the show - "Do you really believe in meritocracy? What is it that you really want?" and as the answer never changes, neither does she.

While Kanade represents the consequences that await Kumiko should she betray her promise - immediate and devastating, Kuroe represents the creeping anxiety that maybe keeping her promise won't be so pleasant either.

My personal opinion is that Kuroe would have become whatever Kumiko thought she was - an answer to her expectations. If Kumiko ever snapped and told her that yes, she should forfeit the soli and that yes, she was ruining the morale of the band - it probably would have become truth. If Kumiko accused her of what Kanade said - that Kuroe was laughing behind her back, insulting her the entire time and toying with her resolve - it probably would have become truth.

But unbelievably, Kumiko doubles down, time after time after time, because she knows that she can't remain passive forever. That she has to decide her future for herself. And the path she chooses is absolute faith in the system - that she was right to choose Reina back then, and if Reina chooses her now - so be it. And when it all comes to a glorious, tear-streaked, white-knuckled conclusion in Episode 12, each of Kumiko's peers finally respond with a genuine expression of their own feelings.

Then, we get Reina's reaction.

Whether Reina was committed, heart and soul in their entirety, to the meritocracy the same way that Kumiko was, I'm not sure. For all her talent and dedication, for all her ruthlessness in the pursuit of perfection - I'm not fully convinced that she would have chosen Kuroe had Kumiko responded differently.

But in seeing Kumiko's unbreakable dedication to the ideal - that the best player should play, for the good of Kitauji, for the good of all of them, I think Reina knew that she couldn't be the one to back away from their promise, not after everything she had done to reach that point, not after she was the one who made the promise with Kumiko in the first place.

Because the only way that any of their struggles would have meaning is to see it through to the very end. The only way is if they kept true to that one blazing, golden goal written on the chalkboard above all else - above their own feelings, or the feelings of anyone else, no matter how strong: Get the Gold at Nationals. Get the Gold for Kitauji. It's not a mission that belongs to them alone - it belongs to those who came before, and the many who will come after.

I'm astounded at how good the character drama is in this franchise. It seems like every character exists to foil another - to lay bare their anxieties and weaknesses in front of the audience, to bring the absolute worst of themselves to light and say, do you still accept me?

But I, like the members of Kitauji, like to believe that is the nature of competition. That the team who gives it their all, who commits their entire being to becoming the best - not putting aside their conflicting feelings, but confronting them - is the team who will be deservedly victorious in the end.