The funny thing about reviewing Blue Box is that it almost doesn’t feel like I’m covering a TV show. Suppose I ignored the fact that this is a meticulously animated cartoon. In that case, it’s hard to overlook, but just go with me — you could almost mistake this chronicle of Taiki and Chinatsu’s new life together for an understated slice-of-life documentary. It’s far too subdued and naturalistic to resemble reality television. Still, the quiet, tiny moments of drama and elation that mark our protagonists’ daily lives feel so real, even though its characters are never anything more substantial than disembodied voices that play over a bunch of doodles that are flashing by on-screen fast.

To be honest, I’m still trying to figure out whatever kind of spooky alchemy this show has going on behind the scenes to end up so compelling, because this is normally a vibe that I would struggle to stay invested in. I won’t go so far as to say that I would be bored, but it would be a show that I would have to be in a specific mood to sit through. I usually need my romance stories to be more actively funny and absurd, or to revel in spicier relationship drama. Here, I’m happy to chill with these two goofy, adorable kids, even when their sports shop talk would normally signal me to leave the room.

My only major complaint about this episode is that it could have focused more on the sports angle. After all, what little tension there is in this episode comes from Taiki’s obsessive drive to make it to nationals this year, and how Chinatsu and his other friends don’t immediately understand why it would matter so much to someone who still has two more years to improve his craft and earn his place in the championships. It even results in the closest thing to a “fight” that he and Chinatsu have ever gotten into — which, of course, means that Taiki was ever so slightly brusque to Chinatsu one time. He spent the next day feeling bad about it, even though Chinatsu is quick to acknowledge that she understands why he wouldn’t want his ambitions to be taken so lightly. This is not the show for folks who like their romance stories to come with big, dramatic monologues and emotional climaxes.

Anyway, I was surprised at how disinterested Blue Box seemed in the big game between Taiki and Kishi. It’s an opportunity to further demonstrate the effects of Taiki’s newfound sense of motivation, which is explicitly tied to his relationship with Chinatsu, and it carries the extra cutesy rom-com stakes of preventing Kishi from getting Chinatu’s phone number. The whole game is framed in such a way that the player’s moves are barely kept in-shot, though, and half of the match is reduced to sneaker squeaks and racket wooshes on the soundtrack while Chinatsu and Kyo chat in the stands. It’s an intentional choice, though I don’t know if it is meant to downplay the mechanics of the badminton match or if it just made the sequence easier to animate.

I don’t think it makes for a bad episode, mind you. I’m just not sure how I feel about this romantic sports-drama playing things this chill with the sports part of the equation all of the time. Who knows, maybe I’ll just get used to it? Besides, there’s still a lot in this episode to love. Taiki and Chinatsu’s interactions are very cute, and I appreciate how the mutual “casually undressed around each other” bits didn’t feel the need to play up the salaciousness of the material, and instead just let the two get quietly flustered. Also, Haryu’s friendship with and mentorship of Taiki is great stuff. All of these kids are just so darned likable , dammit. If they were real, and if I weren’t twice their age, I’d be down to hang out with them all, anytime. I might even be motivated enough to get in on a game of badminton or two! As it stands, though, I’ll have to settle with getting to vicariously enjoy their salad days every week through the magic of streaming animation.

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James is a writer with many thoughts and feelings about anime and other pop-culture, which can also be found on Twitter, his blog, and his podcast.