A love meter that breaks the moment you check it on your crush is the kind of premise that makes you immediately understand the entire show, and then immediately want to watch it anyway. The joke is that you're reading her wrong, but the show is patient enough to let you sit with that confusion instead of rushing to fix it. Eight short episodes means this lives in the space between a thought and a feeling, which is exactly where the best romance comedy lives.
A lonely high school boy makes a desperate wish on a shooting star: somehow, someway, he needs to confess to his childhood friend Marika. When he wakes the next morning, reality has shifted. He now sees floating meters above people's heads, tracking their affection toward him like a dating sim interface. The mechanic seems perfect until he checks Marika's reading. Her meter doesn't just show disinterest, it shatters completely, plummeting into negative territory so severe the system can barely display it. Yet she treats him with genuine kindness, laughs at his jokes, and goes out of her way to help him. The contradiction becomes maddening. Is she secretly despising him while maintaining an elaborate facade? Does the meter measure something deeper than surface feelings? Or has his newfound power revealed a truth that contradicts everything he thought he knew about her? What unfolds is a tangled mess of romantic confusion, comedic misunderstandings, and supernatural weirdness that forces him to question whether love can ever be quantified at all.