When is it too soon to let your feelings be heard? In this series, seemingly never. Ponsuka (aka The Klutzy Class Monitor and the Girl with the Short Skirt) might be one of the loudest romcoms about its feelings. How could it possibly be a quiet pairing of the uptight Hall Monitor and the Bad Girl in class? Sakuradaimon and Poem could not be more different, seemingly, but they're equally strong personalities that push them closer with every bout. It's easy to guess maybe they're not so different, but the opposite turns out to be true: their differences are exactly what they need. And they're not alone.

If I had to lay out this series' appeal, imagine a classroom where everyone has extreme levels of gap moe. The disciplined student is somehow worse at math than the delinquent. The health monitor used to sock thugs in the face. The librarian is a prince near bookshelves, but a sniveling rat anywhere else. Even the stereotypical salaryman used to drop bars in the streets during battle rap sessions. The moment anyone seems like a stereotype, they jump scare you with who they really are. That's where this series shines. It explores how everyone is, to some extent, a living contradiction, and it just takes two of the right ones to complete the puzzle. Because just like magnets, opposites attract.

Sakuradaimon and Poem are the core examples of this magnetic relationship. When kept alone or staying in their lane, they are walking disasters. Poem is more accustomed to social norms, but is brash and easily embarrassed. Sakuradaimon is honest about how he feels, but can't read the room and wants everything done by the book. But when actively trying to get closer, they bring the best out of each other. While she makes him less of a dunce (both mentally and socially), she hears how much he treasures her in ways most boys wouldn't have the balls to. It reminded me a bit of Nagisa Fujita's Extremely Straightforward Boyfriend x Girlfriend: loudmouths unashamed of how they feel.

This extends to both Poem's gyaru friends and the remaining Student Council Members, but the real stand-outs here are President Yamato Nadeshiko and Vice-President Kogori Kaoru. These two stole the spotlight anytime they were on-screen. What happens when the most commanding presence in school absolutely slays in an outfit even the Gyarus would blush at? What if the hulking brute enforcer was also a rich kid conscious of how his privilege gets in the way of his morals? Now imagine these two are childhood friends, and one dons her sexy fit like a superhero costume to make this hunk of morals blush. It's a dynamic that's entertaining enough to be its own series.

For a good chunk of its run, this all works really well. Throughout many visits and gatherings, our main couple gets more comfortable in each other's space while addressing as many misunderstandings as possible. A study group session that could've gone awry gets addressed simply by one person acknowledging who they're doing this for. During a lengthy beach arc later, we see Sakuradaimon realize in real-time the opportunities they missed by stubbornly sticking to what they thought was right. It was Poem welcoming him into her life that made him reconsider: he had no problem admitting what he wanted, but this time he'd no longer deny actually asking for it. The resulting confession is incredibly sweet and left me very satisfied. Unfortunately, the show wasn't.

Romcom anime have recently changed how they treat confessions. Whether it's Horimiya or You and I Are Polar Opposites, it's almost guaranteed that you will see the couple formed by the end of that season. Even when titles like My Dress Up Darling or The Dangers in My Heart take multiple seasons, anime being less stingy with sequels in general has prevented cases like Nisekoi, where the big finish is left in the manga. And to some extent, I get it. After years of will-they-won't-they that may not even be resolved in the last episode, it's nice to know that your patience will be rewarded. But this leads to a recurring problem that modern romcoms like Horimiya have fallen into: they've reached the finish line but still have episodes left to fill.

To be fair, some series like Polar Opposites have managed to remedy this by addressing the day-to-day happenings of maintaining a relationship. When done well, they can work as tips for new couples when it comes to their own troubles. Other times, you can focus on the side couples now that the main relationship is settled. The last stretch of Ponsuka doesn't really do either, opting for the traditional school festival arc. They do try to spice it up by modeling after American proms, and the Vice President does seem to come out of it with a less antagonistic view of school couples. But none of the couples really came closer than before this arc started. In fact, it needlessly dragged our main one into a misunderstanding that they've spent most of the season avoiding. It doesn't ruin the series overall, but it definitely left me a bit sour.

The music wasn't anything to write home about. It's not actively distracting, considering it has four composers credited, but that's led to a score that disappears into the background. Visually, though, this series has a surprising amount of flair to it. Zero-G is usually a very reserved animation studio (Grand Blue Dreaming), so I was blown away by how zany this looked. The style takes a lot of cues from western comic books, with heavy use of ink dots, saturated colors, and thick outlines. It's the kind of cartoony look that complements its bold and brash characters more than something realistic. This works especially when it gets to just gush out for other genres in its many parody scenes.

All the classics like Aim for the Ace! and Tomorrow's Joe get a shout-out here, but there are even some obscure references like the fat twins in 20th Century Boys. There's a spot-on recreation of what it's like to watch a Precure movie (including the audience participation), and there are two rap battles that, dare I say, come close to Miyuki Shirogane's redemption set in Kaguya-sama: Love is War Ultra Romantic. If you want to know how cultured the creators are, go watch the opening. It goes from Powerpuff Girls and Godzilla to Superman and magical girls, all culminating in Kamen Rider transforming into the prince in a Disney film. This is Daiji Iwanaga's debut as a series director, though he is credited as chief director in The Night Beyond the Tricornered Window. If this is what he has to showcase, Zero-G might have a star talent.

On the whole, Ponsuka was pretty underrated among this season's romcoms. While it stumbles a bit at the end, the main dynamic and two showstealers kept me hooked throughout. It's also quite refreshing to see a studio I once considered mid pull off one of the more visually engaging series this season. If you want something sweet to cleanse your palate, give this one a shot. It's cute seeing a couple that's too honest about how they feel, even if they reach the finish line a bit early.