Mirumo, the self-proclaimed selfish prince, is forced to confront a terrifying question: Is happiness the absence of pain, or the capacity to endure it? His usual solution—transforming into his magical form and blasting the problem with chocolate-themed attacks—fails. The music box cannot be destroyed without also erasing every memory Kaede has of the fairies. The episode constructs an unwinnable game: save Kaede’s emotional life but lose her knowledge of her true friends, or let her remain a contented, hollow doll.
The final scene is deliberately muted. Kaede wakes up, warm and alive, but with no recollection of Mirumo or the other fairies. She smiles at Yuuki, a normal girl with a normal crush. The fairies watch from a rooftop, invisible. Rirumu cries. Mirumo doesn’t. He simply says, “Good. That’s how it should be.” It is a line so at odds with his character that it recontextualizes every previous selfish act as a form of deferred grief. WagamamaFairy Mirumo de Pon- Episode 32
This inversion is devastating. In most magical-fairy narratives, the human’s amnesia is the tragedy. Here, Mirumo articulates the fairy’s loneliness: to be the sole keeper of shared joy, condemned to relive it alone. The episode thus redefines sacrifice. Mirumo’s choice is not to fight harder, but to let go. He accepts that saving Kaede means losing her trust, her laughter, her memory of their chaotic adventures. He breaks the music box, knowing the price. Mirumo, the self-proclaimed selfish prince, is forced to
In refusing a magical reset—the curse is broken, but the memory loss stands—Episode 32 commits to a profound emotional realism. Love, it suggests, is not about being remembered. It is about being willing to be forgotten. Mirumo’s final act of selfishness is, paradoxically, the most selfless: he claims the pain entirely for himself. The episode constructs an unwinnable game: save Kaede’s
Where most episodes highlight Mirumo’s laziness and gluttony as comic relief, Episode 32 weaponizes those traits as tragic armor. Mirumo has lived for centuries. He has watched human children grow, love, and wither. His selfishness, the essay argues, is not a character flaw but a survival mechanism. To care deeply for a mortal is to sign up for a funeral. The episode’s climax does not feature a triumphant power-up. Instead, it features Mirumo sitting silently beside Kaede’s frozen form, eating a piece of pudding without appetite. “You’d forget me,” he says, not to her, but to the air. “But I’d remember you forever. That’s the real curse.”