“It shows that some people can overcome their suffering while others get consumed by it.”

The sea is an unfathomable and contradictory place—calm one moment, violent the next, uncertain most of the time, and filled with hidden dangers and unexpected beauty, much like the new Japanese BL, Our Youth.

Adapted from the webtoon of the same name by Hi Nun, the story follows model student Minase Jin (Motojima Junsei) and delinquent Hirukawa Haruki (Kamimura Kenshin) as they navigate a turbulent youth marked by violence and loneliness, all while figuratively floating in a choppy sea where no one expects them to become involved with one another.

After all, as Minase puts it: “There are three types of people in this world: the perpetrators, the victims, and the bystanders.

The first two episodes of Our Youth are poetic, haunting, and unexpectedly philosophical. At its core, the story may lean on a familiar trope—poor bad boy meets rich good boy—but it manages to transcend the cliché, offering something deeper and resonant. Every scene feels rich with meaning and symbolism, and the chemistry between the leads exceeds expectations. It’s more than just a heart-fluttering attraction—it’s desperate and needy, leaving me holding my breath, as if the turbulent sea so often referenced in the series threatens to pull me under. The kiss in the second episode was nothing more than an experimental, simple brush of the lips, yet it felt both dangerous and thrilling.

There’s an electric nuance to the acting and storyline buoyed by an exceptional selection of cinematography, music, and poignant voice-over narration. I felt like I was eavesdropping on a secret, on moments I wasn’t supposed to see, on feelings I didn’t expect to connect to so quickly, especially when it came to Minase Jin.

I grew up much like Hirukawa, in a violent, unstable home. From the streets one moment to delipidated houses so full of fear and unease that it felt like the walls were holding their breath, the entire home stuck between a sob and a curse. So, it’s always been easier for me to connect with characters who are obviously suffering on screen because I understand that feeling on a primal level. Though Minase’s background is entirely different, Our Youth does an incredible job of highlighting his suffering through bleak, helpless undertones—subtle jabs from his “friend,” not-so-subtle warnings from his mother, and the constant pressure to fulfill expectations while feeling fundamentally misaligned with them.

Therefore, I found myself as drawn to Minase’s inner turmoil as Hirukawa is.

In just two episodes, Our Youth has delivered a thoughtfully crafted, well-acted, and emotionally rich drama that resonates deeply. It drew me in, leaving me eager and immersed in Minase and Hirukawa’s world, so much so that I continue to wonder how they’re faring and what they’re doing long after the episode has ended. The magnetic intimacy building between them, each glance and touch, feels like a journey—a tentative exploration of each other that mirrors their unspoken thoughts.

Our Youth is art, each scene a meticulous brushstroke revealing a larger picture. And I’m holding my breath to see how it all unfolds.

For a series that drowns you in deep emotions and leaves you pining for more, check out Our Youth now on Gagaoolala.

Rating- 4 out of 5