
I know Kaisei and Akane are narrative foils and all but calling our beloved grandpa the “root of all evil” gave me whiplash lmao. This contradicts how we’ve seen Shiguma Arakawa in every other context up to this point, which brings the question: what context are we missing? (3.8k)
[[MORE]]Part 1: Who is the Shinigami?
Let’s starts with when we first got to see Shiguma in his element, and ironically also when we first got the see hints of the darker aspects of his character: his performance of “God of Death/Shinigami” at his famous Shiguma Solo event.
When you first read this sequence, the realism of the story’s environment contrasts with the shinigami’s cartoon design, creating an uncanny feeling. This helps convey the degree of immersion produced by Shiguma’s storytelling skills.
In retrospect, we now also know the manga represents the Art of Subtraction in use by portraying the rakugoka from the audience’s POV.


Interestingly, in Shiguma’s case, we not only have him portrayed in “Art of Subtraction” mode, but also accompanied with a completely separate persona–the shinigami itself. The trickster god got it’s own unique character design just for the occasion. Yuki Suenga, the series author, would later on comment on the shinigami’s design choice, which ended up being mostly decided on by the artist, Takamasa Moue. I’m really intrigued by the fact the author mentions he originally wanted Shiguma to take on the cartoony facial expressions we see on the shinigami. Instead, the God of Death became it’s own independent persona, but still adopted the intended cartoony expressions.

This is a fairly unique artistic decision. Hikaru and Kaisei both keep their likeness portrayed in the scary parts of their horror story performances. Not only that, but the horror elements of their story are usually a metaphor for elements of their character arc or relationship to Akane. Issho Arakawa’s own appearance frequently gets stylized to make him look more demonic/non-human without him even getting on the stage. Shiguma, on the other hand, when performing the most iconic horror story of rakugo, was not (or, for Moue-sensei, could not be) depicted as horrific or evil.
The choice to present Shiguma as a persona separate from the shinigami served a function beyond just conveying the depth of skills/horror, which I believe motivated Moue’s art direction. One way to interpret this is as a reflection of Akane’s (and therefore the reader’s) POV. Issho, Hikaru, and Kaisei have all made her feel threatened by their artistry. Shiguma, her beloved mentor, could never seem scary to Akane even while he’s playing the literal God of Death.
It makes sense, then, that the Tsubakiya God of Death is similarly a persona detached from Shomei’s likeness, as Shiguma learned God of Death from the Tsubakiya school. Even though it has a vastly different tone to Shiguma Arakawa’s, its core is the same.

Akane is specifically trying to learn Shiguma’s God of Death. However, she’s also supposed to master her own interpretation of God of Death. These are two opposed goals, so of course she’s struggling with this aspect of the story. Why would she want to connect with God of Death? If anything, a God of Death is the interloper that tried to take Shiguma away from her.

Does that sound familiar? Remind you of a cruel master who can often be found “arriving without warning, confronting you without mercy,” and behaving in “irrational” ways?
While Shiguma + Shomei are not portrayed as a shinigami in their performances of God of Death, Issho Arakawa, himself, is a shinigami from the story God of Death. In a flashback sequence, he stands at the the head of Shiguma V as he gets blamed for killing him, and presumably witnessed his last breath in the process. Then, immediately after this flashback, he chants the spell to bring back the dead (from the God of Death story) in the modern day. This further associates Issho with calamity/death, since it’s established in the rakugo story that reciting the spell when a shinigami stands at the head of the patient’s bed will bring disaster. Issho’s character is someone who acts both as the harbinger of doom, like the shingami, but is also victimized, like the protagonist of the story, who gets criticized for not being successful or wealthy enough for his wife, and ultimately tricked by a Shinigami.
That is to say, Issho is not only a shinigami, but his character embodies “Shinigami” as a story. His grief, his ego, his evil path paved with good intentions, all of it ties into “Shinigami.” He IS “Shinigami.” But more on that later.
The second time we see Issho act as a shinigami is when visiting Shiguma VI’s bedside after his heart attack, facing his feet. As per the story rules, this means it is not that person’s time to die, you can still save them by reciting the spell. Issho does not recite the spell (which matters because as mentioned before literally did so the last time he was in a shinigami role). Shiguma, in multiple ways, is now a patient at the brink of death. He’s passed out. His school is being dissolved, and the one he intends to pass his legacy onto, Akane, is now the studnent of Issho Arakwa. BUT—and this is critical—Akane is there to greet Issho at the hospital. Akane, who carries the “essence of Shiguma.” If anyone is can “recite the spell,” so to speak, it’s Akane.


The shinigami-Issho link returns yet again, a third time, when Issho uses God of Death to outclass his own student. In this case, he is neither a random passing god of death coming to collect an ailing soul, nor a victim tricked by a higher power, but rather, the villain whispering in his protege’s ear “you understand now, don’t you?” In this scene, he is the shinigami of Shiguma’s God of Death. The one who comes to the protagonist offering a solution to pull him from the depths of despair (his rakugo making him rich), while also setting up the protagonist to fail in the long term (his rakugo, again).

Following Kaisei’s Shin'uchi promotion exam, both Kaisei and the audience are reminded “this man is a demon.” Akane agrees. Issho Arakawa is the Demon King just as much as Shiguma Arakawa is the wise old man guiding the young hero on her journey.
Yet, Kaisei, who is aware of all of Issho’s sins, believes the opposite. Through his conversation with Akane, the audience has also been reminded that whether or not someone is evil or good depends on your perspective. It is no mistake that they have this conversation right before Akane learns “God of Death,” for similarly, the story can be approached from a variety of angles dependent on the artist’s interpretation. With this in mind, it makes perfect sense to re-introduce Rokuro, someone who believes the previous Shiguma Arakawa sneakily “stole” his school’s sacred art.
Ever since the Zuiuin Prize arc ended, Akane has already been wrestling with some uncomfortable realizations. Issho, the man who “killed” her father, ultimately did help her win the Zuiuin Prize and has taken on a (dysfunctional) paternal role in her life. Kaisei, her direct rival, has more in common with her than expected, but also claims that her own master is the “root of all evil.” And now, Rokuro, a senpai she holds in great esteem for helping her in the past, not only holds her master in contempt, but believes he doesn’t even have the rights to his own art, and he’s technically not wrong because Shiguma lost the right to perform it anyways. If any of these people are in the right, what does that say about her and her mission ?
The immediate challenge for Akane is to understand how she can embody the God of Death. But the deeper question is whether or not she can understand a perspective so diametrically opposed to her own without surrendering her values. Similar to “removing herself entirely,” it requires a level of maturity that goes beyond navigating the world like a game of “Rakugo Quest.” And, by the end of it, Akane will likely be primed to understand the God of Death of her story, Issho Arakawa, for better or worse.
Interlude: Teach a Poor Man to Fish, and He’ll Argue on the Best Way to Cook the Fish
Whereas before Akane was able to physically and mentally distance herself from Issho, to only think of him in the abstract, it is now impossible for her to ignore that she is, in fact, a student of Issho Arakawa. She’s literally performing at an event that has “Issho” in the name.
No one can blame her for the rough transition. Putting aside the trauma of witnessing her grandpa have a heart attack and immediately being ripped away from him in less than 24hrs (this was crazy this was crazy im not over it how could they do this), there are some very obvious differences in how Issho and Shiguma teach.
Issho is a selfish and cruel teacher. He has a dicey reputation among his colleagues and overall considered a controversial character. Shiguma prioritizes nurturing and engaging with his students and local community. He adopts hobbies that help him socialize, rather than impose his individual will. In other words, Issho lives by “the ends justifies the means,” whereas Shiguma encourages his students grow at their own pace.
We see this contrast most starkly when Akane essentially learns the same lesson from them, but in wildly different contexts. Issho’s “nothing ventured, nothing gained” and Shiguma’s “there’s great value in agonizing over these things and reaching the answer on your own”


Notice how Issho’s commentary focuses on the importance of pushing yourself to the limits, and how being willing to put yourself through the struggle is a sign of virtue. It makes you better than everyone else. Shiguma, on the other hand, emphasizes that struggling to succeed is important because it brings personal growth. The real answer was in you all along, and now you get to be the best version of yourself.
Essentially, Issho says you need to handle the pain to move past your limits, whereas Shiguma emphasizes that growing pains are just another part of finding yourself. It’s the idea that you need to go beyond who you are vs you are fine as yourself on a fundamental level. This is basically the crux of their differing teaching methodologies.
It’s so interesting, too, because their teaching methods are basically mirrors of their actual rakugo specialty, or at least what we’ve seen of it. Shiguma’s subtle-but-powerful Art of Subtraction is known to “make” people appreciate rakugo, and even remove their sense of self in the case of distracting them from a fire alarm. Issho’s art, in contrast, is aggressive and intense, but he presents his “demon” approach as one that is objectively superior. As if you’re stupid for not seeing his strength. When he humiliated Kaisei, he didn’t verbally say “my rakugo is better” but he bet on the fact the judges and audience would see their difference in skill on their own–and they did. It is because he is so purely focused on the quality of rakugo that he dehumanizes the performers, his own students, as well as himself, by taking on an antagonistic, abusive role.
We see the worst of the Demon Master’s offenses towards his students through how he treats Kaisei, but we also see how his “objectively” superior art appeals to people like Kaichi, who are constantly seeking ways to improve themselves and reach their goal. Kaichi describes his respect for Issho’s art as a “product that was worth betting my life on,”which is in-line with Issho’s own cutthroat mentality on what is necessary to succeed in rakugo.

At first glance, referring to an ancient art form as a “product” might seem shallow, but it was specifically Kaichi’s background in being selling material products that allowed him to both appreciate the depth of Issho’s rakugo and feel inspired to listen to his own heart and quit sales. Kaichi is not even the first to liken Issho’s art by such material means. Issho himself describes it to a young Kaisei: “all I do is sit on a cushion and talk.” Whether or not your product provides self-fulfillment….well, it’s only a product after all, not a person. It can’t love you the way a person could. The way Kaisei loves his mom, or Kaichi loves his family. Without a human core to balance you, you lose yourself. This is the Achilles’ heel to Issho’s entire methodology.
There is one large, obvious positive side to treating your students, and yourself, like products: they sell, and they sell well. They make a splash in the news, The spread into other entertainment industries. He ensures they have opportunities to succeed by hosting a large annual event known to propel his students to stardom. Say what you want about the man, but his methods produce results (I write this grinding my teeth, nails cutting into my palms). His approach to teaching is more akin to the modern entertainment industrial complex. Which is SO FUNNY because you know who ELSE liked to hold a big event to show off his students?????

THE PREVIOUS MIROKU KASHIWAYA. AND. Also the prev Shiguma, who was in charge of the Daytime event schedule right before he got ousted (BTW IN THIS CHAP IT’S SAID THAT THE PERSON WHO ARRANGES AND PERFORMS FOR THE DAYTIME EVENT SCHEDULE…IS TYPICALLY THE WHO INHERITS THE MASTER’S NAME…JUST LIKE…GOD..im gonna throw up). YES i am talking about the event that literally got their master kicked out in the first place. And isn’t it even crazier that Issho’s version of the event is hosted on the anniversary of the prev Shiguma Arakawa’s death? As if he’s honor the death of BOTH Kiroku Kashiwaya and SHiguma Arakawa V?
AND do you recall. The exact reason the prev Shiguma got kicked out of Kashiwaya? It was for putting one of his Zenza as the headliner before his big show. To acknowledge their growth. To show how much he belives in them. That was his big sacrifice. Yes. Just like the way Shiguma sets up his annual event. Yes. Because the students literally took different lessons away about what was the most important part of their Master’s decision. (I wonder what Rokuro thinks about all this….?)
Shiguma, basically ever since he became a student of Arakawa, has believed it’s better to cultivate his students’ unique path rather than push them to compete in the rakugo industry. Because, obviously, in his experience, the rakugo industry sucks sometimes. So you gotta do your own thing. However, as a result, his students don’t receive the same kind of encouragement to hustle and grind into success, living in a world that is a bit isolated from modern reality. Which is why, from Issho’s perspective, someone who would rather make the industry submit to his whims, Issho is an innovator bringing about the rakugo “revolution.”
Shiguma’s students won’t rise to stardom as quickly as Issho’s, but they do produce an incredibly loyal audience who become as connected to the peformer as they are to the art. The epitome of this was Shinta’s promotion exam, where his performance was appreciated because he received sympathy and support from the audience. From the old woman cheering on Shinta for years to Maikeru’s adoring fans, Shiguma’s students form a personal/parasocial (lol) connection with the audience in the space filled up by Issho’s “objective” artfrom.
He holds street food festival stalls, after parties, and other community-building events because at the end of the day, it’s the people you love who make you strong. In the Shiguma school, no rakugoka holds up their art on their own. It is critical to connect with others, to take in the “colors of the city,” to mature. In contrast, we can see how sticking closely to Issho’s principles creates self-isolation through Kaisei, whose art distinctly changed from his idol-like persona to a more solemn, “woah he’s so good at rakugo” reputation that resembles the over-bearing nature of Issho’s own art.
This ties back to the strength of the previous Shiguma Arakawa. He is respected by a yakuza man not just because he is good at rakugo, but was able to show humility to connect with an innate human need for connection. Shiguma leans into this aspect of him. On the other hand, the previous Shiguma Arakawa was very serious about his artistic principles. Instead of worry about how the community would perceive him, he preferred to let go of those ties and focus on what mattered to him. He was willing to defy his own Master, “steal” a sacred art form in the process, choose to adopt a myoseki from a man too dead to actually choose to give him one, and restart his whole career. All within a struggling industry focused on tradition and hierarchy. The previous Shiguma Arakawa was already starting a “revolution” long before the thought entered Issho’s mind. This is the innovative, self-serving nature that Issho takes after.
And his motivation for that revolution? The very same fragile humanity that put him under fire in the first place.


On a fundamental level, both Issho and Shiguma draw from their Master to guide their rakugo + teaching methodologies.

Part 2: Who is the Demon?
Note that points I made about his students not receiving as much direct support to achieve long-term success is mostly based on inference, not evidence. There’s a purposeful, slow-burn obfuscation of Shiguma’s flaws to build up to a dramatic reveal to the “root of all evil” Kaisei refers to.
That said, similar to how Issho “killing his master” is likely wayyyy more complicated than that, Shiguma being the “root of evil” is also wayyy more complicated than Shiguma doing a bad thing.
We can hypothesize a bit on the nature of Shiguma “great evil” from what we’ve seen in his teaching priorities. We know when his student gets promoted to Futatsume, he has them as the headliner for his solo-event. This is depicted as a really sweet and heart-warming moment to reflect on Akane’s growth and her relationship to Shiguma, what it means to be a student of Shiguma, and this is all true and important!!!! I love the Shiguma solo show arc so much.
However, ultimately, the solo-show is what is says on the tin: it’s about him and his realtionship to his student, but not his students themselves. On one hand, it reflects how he’s cultivated a deep connection with his community that cannot be replaced. On the other hand, it’s leaving the rest of his students to stick it out on their own after becoming a Futatsume. And this has…varied results. Guriko hits a total rut and gets showed up by a Zenza teenager. Shinta never addresses his stage freight/insecurities, and Koguma only partially so. Maikeru doesn’t actually mature as a person until he gets scared from Shinta’s expulsion. Kyoji has whatever the hell is going on with Miroku. And Akane doesn’t even GET a Futatsume promotion event! She cancels it, sent off to stick it out in France, alone, where she ends up strengthening what she already knows. What she already learned as a student of Shiguma. Which was good for her, and really not Shiguma’s fault, but it brings us back to the point about Shiguma not really setting his students up for success the way Issho (kinda) does.
The whole point of Shiguma’s approach to teaching is to capture the holistic human experience of life. To honor both your weaknesses and your strengths. Life’s highs and lows. But an Issho-like person might argue that’s Shiguma is never going to tell you to fix your shit to your face. He’s not going to push you to improve. Instead, he waits for life to hit you, first. And in Shinta’s case, sometimes life hits you fast.
Even Shiguma’s history with Shiguma’s Art reflects this. He lost the right to perform it due to a lack of confidence in himself. He couldn’t make a decision until the decision was made for him. And he’s still like this! He doesn’t tell Masaki he’s training Akane for years because he’s too nervous to do it, meanwhile Akane had already done the hard part for him as a child lol. He’s aware that Zensho will probably try to sabotage Akane from getting a Futatsume promotion, and promises to do something about it if it comes to that, but he doesn’t mention any of this to Akane even though it’s really his issue. Which, to be fair, was the right decision in this case! It is because he does this that Akane is able to fully focus on herself and her art, which is what actually matters in this situation.
He’s aware of his flaws. Shiguma himself expresses that while Issho was banned to learn Shiguma’s Art, he definitely wouldn’t have the confidence issues that he did. Which is to say–Issho doesn’t hesitate just because something looks daunting. He takes initiative. He pushes himself to outperform whatever obstacle is in front of him, just as he pushes his students. Issho might be an asshole, but you can never say he didn’t try to put his students on the right path. Typical strict parenting…..
Shiguma is always speaking from the heart, but when it comes to conflict, the approach to basically wait and see what happens might not always the best, because, sometimes, you wait to long, you hesistate, and then suddenly you have destroyed your master’s legacy.
So how come Issho, the one forbidden from learning Shiguma’s Art in the first place, is the one who gets told “you killed me,” but not our dearly beloved Shiguma? The one who is all about honoring personal relationships between student and teacher?? How come he gets to go through life supposedly unburdened by his failure, whereas Issho obsesses over the death of their master to the detriment of himself and others?
Perhaps it’s more apt to say that, rather than take a more proactive role when you’re struggling through life, Shiguma patiently waits for death to come, first. Like a demon hovering over your shoulder.
Conclusion: Ya Gotta Die Sometime
Anyone here a Falsettos fan? No? Well, okay.
Death is not inherently evil. It’s a key part of the cycle of life. Death brings renewal, change, and growth. This is important because while the current Shiguma could be considered the “demon” for “letting death happen,” so to speak, the actual driving force of death is unequivocally Issho. Shiguma proves that “rakugo can kill,” but Issho has a growing body count😭Shiguma COULD have killed his audience when they all ignored the fire alarm to listen to his art, but Issho WILL kill as he pleases.
I already had an essay going more in depth with their relationships with prev Shiguma’s death/narrative themes about death in the arts, and I’m not gonna bother rehashing all o that lol (tho i imagine the stuff with Shomei and Rokuro is about to create some interesting insights to this). But the main point here, and the answer I think the story is slowly pushing Akane to realize, is that, well, death is a part of life. As cheesy as it sounds. It’s a part of that fragile humanity that the school of Shiguma values so much, even when it looks ugly or shameful. Maybe Shiguma did do some crazy stuff that makes him the “root of all evil,” but that doesn’t neglect the love and care he’s showed her and the rest of his students. It just means he’s as human as anyone else. And, sure, maybe Issho DID “kill” his master, but by narrowing his focus until he basically Becomes Death as much as Akane Becomes Rakugo, he’s losing touch with his own humanity.

It’s not Akane’s job to help Issho or Shiguma resolve their shit, but understanding the different flavors of humanity will not only help her understand Shiguma’s Art, or how to perform “God of Death,” but ultimately help her understand herself as well. More than anything else, I’m really, really excited to see what Akane learns about herself in the next set of chapters.
Thank you sm for reading!!! I hope this was fun and/or made you think about the story in a different way.






