Kashiwada's face never moves, but Oota's entire body is screaming that he's figured something out she hasn't admitted to herself. The show understands that love between opposites isn't about one person changing the other, it's about finding someone whose chaos makes your stillness feel less lonely. Every episode is just him throwing himself at her impassivity and her pretending it doesn't register, except it does, in ways that register.

Kashiwada has perfected the art of the blank stare. Nothing rattles her, nothing moves her face, nothing gets a reaction. She and Oota are classmates at a junior high school, and Oota exists at maximum volume at all times. His face broadcasts every thought, every feeling, every ridiculous idea bouncing through his head the second it arrives. He's decided his personal mission is to make Kashiwada crack, trying pranks from fake spiders to absurd text messages to pull some kind of expression from that impassive mask. Spoiler: she's not budging. But something's happening underneath anyway. His schemes keep failing, yet without his noticing, they sometimes coax a faint smile out of her, and Kashiwada actually enjoys watching his overly expressive face. Their classmates get a kick out of this odd pairing, and though the two seem like total opposites, they both care about each other. The result is a romantic comedy about school life, written in blank stares and wide grins.