Shiranai Koto Shiritai no The Animation Episode 1

Review of Shiranai Koto Shiritai no The Animation Episode 1

Right out the gate, as those first frames flicker on, I’m hit with Shiomi’s voice—soft, breathy, almost accusatory with that “Shiomi… what’s wrong with you suddenly?” line, and I’m already squirming in my chair. It’s not just the dialogue; it’s the way her eyes glint with this desperate, unhinged hunger, like she’s about to devour someone whole, and I’m not sure if I’m terrified or completely into it. Her lips part just a fraction, and there’s this glossy sheen on them—animation so slick I can almost feel the heat of her breath through the screen. My heart’s doing that stupid skip thing, and I’m thinking, “Oh no, this is gonna wreck me in under two minutes, isn’t it?”

Shiomi’s Fire of Desire: I’m Already Sweating, Damn It

By the time Shiomi mutters, “It seems I’m already… consumed by the fire of desire,” I’m a mess. Her voice cracks with this raw, trembling need, and the way her body arches just slightly in that frame at 00:00:16—holy hell, it’s like the animators knew exactly how to carve every curve of her chest to maximum effect. Those big, heaving boobs are drawn with such obscene detail, the shadows and highlights making them look so heavy, so real, I’m half-convinced I could reach out and feel the weight. And when she presses closer to the dude, there’s this subtle quiver in her hips, like she’s barely holding it together, and I’m over here gripping my desk like it’s a lifeline. It’s not just hot; it’s suffocating, like I’m trapped in the same room, smelling whatever peachy, dizzying scent she’s giving off later on. I’ve got no shame admitting I replayed that moment three times just to soak in every little gasp she lets slip.

Model Shop Shenanigans: From Toys to… Well, You Know

Okay, the shift to the model toy store setting around 00:03:25 is bizarrely endearing before it gets filthy again, and I’m kinda loving the whiplash. One minute, Shiomi’s scolding the store manager about misplaced Agrippa models with this stern, nerdy passion—her brows furrowed, finger wagging like a disappointed teacher—and the next, we’re spiraling back into pure lust. But even in these “tame” moments, there’s this undercurrent of tension; her bust strains against her shirt as she leans over to rearrange a shelf, and I’m distracted as hell, thinking about how I’ve never been this invested in plastic toys in my life. Then there’s the dude’s inner monologue about her chest, and yeah, buddy, I’m right there with you, staring like a creep. It’s so dumbly relatable I almost laughed—until they’re back at it, and I’m too busy blushing to even breathe right.

Peach Aroma and Unraveling Control: Things Get Messy

Fast forward to around 00:08:29, and that peach aroma scene after the solvent spill? I’m losing it. Shiomi’s peeling off her clothes, her skin flushed this perfect, dewy pink, glistening like she’s been dipped in honey, and her voice goes all shaky with “I’m very hot, I feel dizzy.” It’s not just the words; it’s the way her chest rises and falls, rapid and uneven, the fabric clinging to her curves before it’s gone, and I’m sitting here with my jaw on the floor. The heat radiating off her feels almost tangible, like I can sense the sticky, humid air in that cramped shop. And when she begs, “Please relieve my internal itch,” at 00:09:34, her eyes are glassy, desperate, and I’m hit with this visceral pang of want so strong it’s embarrassing. I’m not proud of how much that line echoed in my head for hours after, like some kind of cursed mantra. The intimacy escalates, her moans sharp and staccato, sounding like a melody gone wrong but so damn right, and the way her body moves—fluid, frantic, every thrust and shudder animated with this messy, human urgency—has me feeling things I didn’t know a 2D girl could provoke.

The Aftermath: I’m a Wreck and I Don’t Care

By the time they’re spent, around 00:14:22, with Shiomi murmuring about the mess and the sheer volume of… well, everything, I’m just sitting there, shell-shocked, feeling like I’ve run a marathon in my own head. The way her voice softens, still a little breathless, as she tries to play it cool with “That’s not the real me,” it’s almost cute—if I wasn’t still reeling from the raw, sloppy intensity of what just happened. The animation lingers on her flushed face, the disheveled hair sticking to her neck, and the faintest tremble in her fingers, and I’m weirdly fixated on those tiny details, like they’re proof this wasn’t just some fantasy—it felt alive. And yeah, I’m a little annoyed at myself for getting this invested, but also, who am I kidding? I’m already itching to rewatch just for that moment at 00:12:24 when she gasps out something so explicit I had to double-check the subtitles. Did she really just say that? Did I really just melt into a puddle over it?

Look, I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I’ve got my life together after watching this. My brain’s a scrambled mess of peach scents and Shiomi’s desperate little whimpers, and I’m half-tempted to go build a model kit just to see if it unlocks some hidden kink I didn’t know I had. If anyone asks, I’m fine, but also, I might be Googling homemade solvents at 3 a.m. to figure out what the hell just rewired my soul. Send help—or don’t, because I’m probably gonna dive into episode 2 before I even finish this sentence.