How treacherous it is to believe that a person is more than a person?
ReZero is a story of a young male character (Subaru) forced to die again and again, to watch ones he cares about die again and again, and only himself gets to be revived again and again—all while keeping all these memories to himself, and himself only.
He tries his best to be optimistic, to plan, to conquer his past mistakes only to fail and repeat everything with each unexpected changes. It’s painfully clear to him that he is weak, that he cannot save everyone. But he always would risk everything to learn, to improve and try to path his ideal future. He didn’t choose this path. He didn’t want to bear this curse. No one else understand him. No one could.
Yet, there he is—helplessly dragging his feet forward with his eyes burning with determination.
“He’s a fictional character after all. “
“He’s immortal after all. “
“He never gives up after all. “
“He always managed to smile after all. “
“He’d somehow always make things work after all. “
“He’s the hero of the story after all. “
These were my thoughts in some instances throughout the story, and I couldn’t be happier when he proves me wrong. Because ultimately, he is not a hero. He’s not some character that is willing to fight to death to upgrade himself or save the whole world. He doesn’t have superhuman abilities or powerful magic skills. He has nothing, but his life to offer.
Deep down, I started to see that he’s not someone that’s far to reach, or to understand. He’s not that different from any of us. He’s just a normal human; like any of us, striving to do the best in our lives, struggling to get recognition, to make our parents proud, to make ends meet, to simply create a peaceful and satisfactory life.
He faces death more times than I can count, yet no one appreciates it more than he does. With each death, he comes back more depressed yet stronger, strong enough to overcome his misery, his sorrow and his emptiness.
His despair would always find ways to consume him, but he never gets sunken in it for too long. It’s his life after all, and his choices to move forward, starting his life in another world from zero.
I realised that he is just a person, after all.
Learning to love others, and to be loved by others.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Simply living his life, as if it’s his last.
Embracing, with each of his death, and each of his revival—the value of life.