This past summer I discussed Volumes 1-7 of this series. My thoughts were about chronic illness, emotional manipulation, systemic bias and some other overarching concepts, rather than about the story, per se. Also, I noted that the first volume had me sobbing in a plane bathroom, which was awkward. 

I delayed reading Volume 8 of Though I Am an Inept Villainess: Tale of the Butterfly-Rat Body Swap in the Maiden Court until Volume 9 was available, since the story structure thus far has been 2-volume arcs. Volume 9 turned out to be the climax of a number of arcs, including the immediate plotting of that current arc. It also is the climax of the second phase of the relationship between Kou Reirin, the Earth Maiden and Shu Keigetsu, the Fire Maiden, consorts of the Crown Prince of Ei.

Due to the toxic relationships between the Consorts of the preceding generation, the Maidens have all had to overcome significant abuse and manipulation, both emotional and physical. In part due to need and self-preservation, in part to Reirin’s steel-trap wit, all of the Maidens have moved beyond their hateful and antagonistic relationships. They work together now to greater ends, even if they still do bicker. The writing really shines here specifically, as the tension is wholly different. They sound like old friends trashing each other, not like implacable enemies. 

In Volume 8, a situation so complicated that I am hard pressed to explain it in a sentence or two is set up. Reirin and Keigetsu are switched and cannot be switched back, even though Reirin is tortured and Keigetsu made to push Reirin’s frail body beyond it’s ability. To save themselves, they must solve a mystery that has plagued the Emperor since his youth, or die. In doing so, the two women have a fight that seems insurmountable. In Volume 9, all of this comes to a head in what is a genuinely brilliant book. 

Keigetsu has been trying and succeeding for the most part, to pass as Reirin. Imagine if you were suddenly asked to pass a physics professor or an Olympic skater. For Keigetsu, the gap between her, a despised nobody treated like trash in order to serve as a punching bag and be universally loathed as an uncultured joke, to rise to be able to pass as the beloved angel of the Inner Court, delicate and gentle, is nearly impossible to imagine. Keigetsu does that, lifting herself out of the sewer once and for all. Reirin is gutted. We’re told, over and over that the Kou family loves nothing more than to be needed. Keigetsu no longer needs her. Reirin snaps. Her subsequent crisis had me  – for real – fucking sobbing on a plane again.

Keigetsu, in rising to be the person Reirin need her to be, makes Reirin feel as if she is no longer needed. Rushing in to that gap is all the emotion Reirin has never let herself feel about being ill. She spent her lifetime preparing for death. Making sure she had no unpaid debts, no thanks left unsaid. Now, apparently no longer needed and unable to pay off the debt she feel she owes Keigetsu, the weight of her own mortality rushes in and crushes Reirin. She has felt health now, in Keigetsu’s strong body and the horror of returning to her own weak one, as her health deteriorates makes her…angry.  I won’t belabor this, except to say the one thing I will not do to myself is imagine a life without illness, so when Reirin lost it at this point, so did I. 

Keigetsu, for her part is angry and confused. She has exceeded every expectation, risen above her upbringing, her training, the manipulations that she was subject to, only to be met with a Reirin, cool and unemotional. For Keigetsu, this was tantamount to rejection. 

The catalysts to their eventual reconciliation are the men in their lives, which was really a nice touch. One of the best bits of this series is how both men and women are portrayed here as fully-developed humans, with strengths, weaknesses and emotional depth. No non-verbal, unemotional blank slates that we have to mask emotional depth on to. The developing relationship between Reirin’s brother and Keigetsu feels natural and fun, while the Crown Prince frequently ends up being the most emotionally intelligent person in the story. It’s a genuine pleasure, knowing “the boys” aren’t a drain on the story or the character development. 

The climax comes with reconciliation of several kinds. Both Reirin and Keigetsu finally, honestly admit their needs to one another. Reirin is able to compliment Keigetsu with her whole chest, and finally Keigetsu can see herself as the comet Reirin always likens her to. It’s a magnificent moment, beautifully written. 

While this series is not Yuri, in the sense that there is no romantic love between Keigetsu and Reirin, and there is no likelihood of there ever being any, it does not lose out at all in the intense emotional connection. Reirin and Keigetsu have inhabited each other’s bodies and lives, they have had to pass for one another. They have had to save one another and they have conspired to do things that changed the kingdom around them. I cannot think of a friendship in literature more intimate than this. It is a genuinely fantastic series, which I wholeheartedly recommend to Okazu readers.

Ratings: 

Art – 7 
Characters – 9 
Service – Teenier bits in this arc, as there was a *lot* going on.
Intimacy – 10

Overall  – 10

As I said in my previous review, I probably will not be watching the anime, simply because the early parts are simply too hard.  And I’ll have to stop reading this series on a plane.  ^_^; But my sincerest thanks to Sean Gaffney for the recommendation.