The Summer Hikaru Died - The Intricacies of Coming-of-Age (Queer) Horror

Coming of age is really nothing without its horrors. The horror of discovering who you are, or perhaps the horror of falling in love with your dead friend who's... not exactly dead. Zhi En explores these haunting intersections of identity and grief in The Summer Hikaru Died.

Photo Credits: Netflix

I must admit, I have no idea what possessed (ha!) me to write this piece, having never watched 'The Summer Hikaru Died' up to this point. It was also likely an unwise decision to watch the series during lunch and dinner exclusively.

That said, 'The Summer Hikaru Died' takes a vast departure from the comedic, often cheesy tones of coming-of-age stories, and is able to marry elements of horror with teenage angst wonderfully. The story truly begins with Yoshiki's realisation that Hikaru was in fact no longer the friend he once knew, setting the turbulent course for Hikaru and Yoshiki’s relationship.

In navigating his relationship with the now 'Not-Hikaru-But-Still-Hikaru', Yoshiki is forced to tackle his feelings and struggles alone for the most part. Contained within the chambers of his mind, Yoshiki can often only echo the same paralysing sentiments to himself over and over again with no change in route. Fear keeps a tight leash on us all, and even for protagonists dealing with the unknown supernatural, Yoshiki is no better. The secluded setting of the town where Hikaru and Yoshiki reside lends to the increasingly isolated atmosphere that contributes to this series’ brand of horror. In addition to the secretive nature of Hikaru's condition, Yoshiki ends up pushing himself into hiding and others away from him.

One thread that ties coming-of-age and horror stories together is the element of exploration, the formation of one's life ambitions, and the discovery of answers to one's town's mysterious strings of deaths. 'Hikaru' relearns what it means to be human, to understand the line between life and death. In turn, Yoshiki comes to rediscover the 'horror' behind his friend as they spend more and more time together, either in learning the macabre history of their small town, or each other. The expanding realisation of who we are is likely an experience many of us are familiar with. Some discover life-long goals and establish individuality from their peers; some fall into whirlwind relationships to then break them off just as fast; some may jump into new ventures, opening up avenues in life previously undiscovered. In Yoshiki and Hikaru's case, it is presented in uncovering the mystery behind Nonuki, the mysterious deity of their small town and 'Hikaru', learning the truth of their circumstances. Conversely, Yoshiki also has to reevaluate what 'Hikaru' means to him, as some of his attachment toward 'Hikaru' is directly tied to the memory of his lost friend.

With the coming of age comes both loss and change. To begin, there is the upfront instance of Hikaru's death. There's no beating around the bush, Yoshiki's dearest friend is dead. Yet, he still grapples with the struggle of letting Hikaru go to such an extent that he would 'allow' an eldritch being to wear Hikaru's skin. Life in their secluded village continues as if nothing has changed, but Yoshiki remains trapped in the grips of his friend's 'death'. 

Alternatively, the entity that assumes Hikaru’s form faces its own turmoil with foreign emotions, also known as jealousy and longing, whenever Yoshiki seeks company from those outside of 'Hikaru'. Though eventually it would rather suppress these particular emotions in order to preserve their precarious friendship, understanding that, above all else, ‘Hikaru’ simply wants to be with Yoshiki. For Yoshiki, he clings to the dead shell of Hikaru, willing to allow a 'stranger' into his heart and life as long as it wears his friend's face. For 'Hikaru', there is the persistent fear that Yoshiki will learn of its true nature that their friendship would dissolve entirely.

Many individuals, especially those who are genderqueer, are often surrounded by family and friends who, despite surface-level tolerance, mourn these living people as if they were dead. In both instances, Yoshiki fears the displacement he would face when he comes to terms with the fact that Hikaru died, and 'Hikaru' does not want to lose a friend it and its host cared for.

Even though growing up into our adulthood may not encompass the harrowing experience of a supernatural entity following you home then professing its love and affection to you, 'The Summer Hikaru Died' is a story that gives insight into much of the queer experience and the movements of grief through a muddy lens. Where many romanticise the day you graduate high school and emerge from that cocoon, this series offers a murkier view of the teenage angst you may have never experienced yourself.

The Summer Hikaru Died is now streaming on Netflix.

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Author: Zhi En Editor: Azra Co-Editor-in-Chief: Sue Ann