[Content warning: discussion of transphobia/queerphobia and brief discussion of child abuse.
Also spoiler warning for the following: Made in Abyss (anime and manga), Soul Eater, Steins;Gate, No.6, Kino’s Journey (2017), Land of the Lustrous, Zombieland Saga, Carole & Tuesday, Gatchaman Crowds, Princess Jellyfish, Vision of Escaflowne, Hunter x Hunter (2011), Cowboy Bebop, A Silent Voice, and Kaiba.]
Introduction: The Otaku Gender
Animation, as a medium, often skews towards the fantastical.
This is as true for Western animation as it is for anime, although since the former is generally aimed at children, and also because of the West having a long history of stringent media censorship on ‘moral’ and religious grounds, it tends to be subject to far more scrutiny than its Japanese counterpart.
To a certain extent you could say this might no longer be the case - we do live now in a post-Steven Universe world, after all. Plus, as YouTuber Jack Saint discussed in his two-part series, pockets of semi-explicit queer representation (of varying degrees of quality) can even be found in Western cartoons as far back as the late 90s and early 00s.
Still, I personally feel that anime is somehow unique in its reputation for being able to depict virtually anything, for pushing the boundaries and for embracing all that is non-normative or traditionally seen as bizarre. As you probably know, this aspect of the medium doesn’t always lead to positive things, but it makes for tons of interesting discussion from the perspective of queerness and gender, and is one of the reasons (for better or worse) why it’s my favourite medium.
That, and the fact that I’m a gigantic weeb.
Another interesting thing about anime in particular is how the process of translation contributes to an audience’s perception of a character. Gendered Japanese is a very intricate beast and a lot of its nuances have no real counterpart in English, which can sometimes lead to the erasure of a character’s identity (whether done with malicious intent or not).
That being said, calling it ‘gendered’ Japanese is actually a slight misnomer, and there also many instances of unambigiously cisgender characters employing ‘unorthodox’ speech patterns for their gender, often as a way of expressing some other characteristic independent from their identity. As such, in some cases, there isn’t always a correct answer of how it should be translated. A more detailed breakdown of how gendered language works in Japanese can be found in this great article - don’t worry, I’ll be explaining all this as it becomes relevant, but you can never really have too much knowledge if you ask me.
Anyway, I should probably explain exactly what I mean when I say ‘genderqueer’ here. Having seen the thumbnail you may already have some objections readied in your throat, but while I’m aware not all trans and nonbinary people like to identify themselves with the term, I couldn’t think of another word that fully encapsulates the broad spectrum of identities that I wanted to talk about.
Transgender, nonbinary, gender-nonconforming, crossdresser - all of these labels, for the purposes of this essay, fall under the banner of ‘genderqueer’. In other words, I’m just using it as a way to refer to any character I think is interesting to discuss from this angle, whether their identity is explicitly stated or not.
And you’re of course free to disagree with any of my takes. Queer fandom and headcanons are obviously not the sole arbiter of how any single character should be read, but I still think it’s worth discussing, even if it happens to be the case that I’m just being a representation-starved dog begging for scraps.
Now, after that lengthy disclaimer, I think it’s finally time to take a genderqueer eye to some of these characters.
Part 1: Lost in (Mis)translation
So I decided that I’d first delve into some of the more well-known and iconic examples of genderqueer anime characters who have, to varying degrees, been done dirty by their translators or by fandom perceptions.
We’ll start with the poster child, and a personal favourite...
...Nanachi, from Made in Abyss.
Now, Made in Abyss is well-renowned for being rather like an ogre. That is to say, it has layers - many, many layers, of which only 7 have ever been confirmed. But its true depth as yet remains unknown.
Regardless of whatever I meant to insinuate about the series with that allegory, though, I should explain for the uninitiated. Made in Abyss is set in a world in which the last unexplored frontier, the titular Abyss, is a giant hole on a remote island filled with fantastic fauna and flora and whose physics go more and more haywire the deeper you descend. The ‘Curse of the Abyss’, one of its defining features, is similar mechanically to the ‘bends’ phenomenon experienced by scuba divers and exacts a physical and psychological toll on all humans who ascend within the Abyss.
The effects of the Curse vary depending on the steepness of the ascent and how far in you were to begin with. Early on, it’s explained that the strain of ascending in the 6th layer is the ‘loss of one’s humanity’, although exactly what this entails is unclear until Nanachi shows up near the tail end of the anime.
Nanachi, who has a somewhat feminine appearance but expresses themselves using the typically masculine pronoun おいら (oira), explains that they are a Narahate, or Hollow - the name given to humans who ascend within the 6th layer and in doing so lose their humanity. This is already a hugely interesting concept, but there’s more. In the manga, once main characters Riko and Reg visit the 6th layer for themselves, they find a village populated entirely by Hollows, discovering that their forms are not limited to androgynous furries like Nanachi but are massively varied in shape and size - some are not even corporeal.
In the Seven Seas official translation of the manga, Nanachi and most of the other Hollows use they/them pronouns, although in some (worse) fan translations Nanachi instead uses she/her. As I recall, the anime makes no direct references to Nanachi’s gender in the translation, although it’s worth noting that the anime (as of the time of writing) only adapts up to the point just before Hollows become completely central to the narrative.
Although the Hollows are an extremely fascinating piece of worldbuilding, the notion that losing one’s status as a human automatically goes hand in hand with an atypical gender presentation and identity seems a little… iffy. It’s worth noting that not all Hollows seem to necessarily identify as nonbinary (they have a ‘princess’ whom they explicitly gender, after all), and it has not been confirmed as to what Nanachi’s gender identity was before they became a Hollow. Even so, the setup carries strong undertones of othering if not outright dehumanisation, and it seems to view the idea of transitioning as something that is necessarily bizarre and magical in nature - and therefore can be considered strange and unnatural. There’s also the fact that Nanachi’s own personal experience of becoming a Hollow is strongly linked to trauma, involving an abusive father figure as well as the unspeakable suffering of their best friend Mitty.
With that being said, the Hollows, although strange, are not outright depicted as malevolent and are simply another product of the Abyss who variously help or hinder the heroes. In some cases, too, othering can be considered a source of catharsis if included as part of a character’s arc. Particularly this is the case with Nanachi, who although initially appears as a suspicious figure, is later accepted as a close friend and ally of the protagonists. Hence why I passionately defend the preservation of Nanachi’s gender identity or lack thereof in the translation, despite its problematic implications.
It’s also definitely worth noting here that Marulk, a character whose appearance precedes Nanachi in this story, is not a Hollow but is also depicted as gender-ambiguous. Marulk uses the first-person pronoun 僕 (boku), which is typically considered to be soft-masc, whilst dressing and presenting effeminately. Although left unclear, it’s implied during their short conversation with Reg that Marulk identifies as male, and while they don’t really appear for long enough to truly gauge what their entire deal is, I personally felt a very strange vibe from what we did see of them. Of course, it might just be that I don’t fully trust Tsukushi Akihito to make a properly wholesome depiction of a gender non-conforming character… or any character, for that matter.
And, while we’re on the subject of problematic authors...
Hanji Zoe (alternatively written as Hange Zoe) is a rather unique case in that their gender varies not only between the different translations of the Attack on Titan manga but also between the native Japanese versions of the manga and anime. In the manga, Hanji’s depiction is fully gender neutral, but in the anime is unambiguously female. The official English translation of the manga seemed to take its cue from the anime specifically as Hanji uses she/her pronouns in it (although I hear this has been more recently changed to reflect the original portrayal).
That being said, it doesn’t automatically follow that manga Hanji is necessarily nonbinary. When queried, mangaka Isayama Hajime blithely commented that ‘either one is fine’, indicating that he clearly thought of Hanji’s gender as a binary scenario and had no clear notion of it beyond that. Although, of course, that certainly didn’t stop the queer fandom from depicting Hanji as trans or nonbinary in their own fanworks. Which, I mean, all power to them because Hanji is one of the most entertaining characters in the series.
The next character might seem like a bit of a curveball seeing as we’re talking about mistranslation here, but I’ve got a more personal bone to pick with it, if you’ll bear with me.
It’s hard to think of a character who is more explicitly trans than Hana from Kon Satoshi’s Tokyo Godfathers, and yet even she is not immune to horrendous mistranslations. Although it should be noted that the recent English dub of the film cast an actual transwoman to play the role, which is great, when I watched the movie originally my experience of it was tarnished by how horribly the fan translation handled Hana’s character. Allow me to explain.
In the movie, Hana is very vocal about how she wants to be perceived by those around her - she openly states her desire to become a mother and viscerally reacts to gendered insults such as じじ (jiji, ‘old man’) in a way I feel can only be interpreted as a manifestation of gender dysphoria. She is also often labelled by other characters as an おかま (okama). This word, while sometimes considered derogatory, has many nuances in Japanese and is also used as a self-referential term by drag queens and some transwomen (more information here). Moreover, the text of the film doesn’t actually make it clear as to whether Hana actually objects to this terminology being levelled at her.
How does the fan translation handle this? Well. じじ is translated as ‘old fart’, which isn’t so explicitly gendered in English and thereby already loses a lot of context in the translation. Nor is Hana’s memetic response (which translates to ‘you can call me old, but don’t call me an old man’) preserved in this way either. But then the translation goes one step further down and renders all instances of おかま in the movie as ‘homo’. Which, while a depressingly common occurrence in subtitle translations, absolutely fails to carry over any of the nuance of that term at all.
I never thought I’d say this as someone who’s typically a sub purist, but this might be the one anime which I may someday have to revisit in dubbed format.
Oh yeah, and speaking of dubs...
Soul Eater is among the shows I watched when I was first getting into anime and as a result I have very fond feelings of nostalgia for it. As it happens, I also watched it back when I watched anime exclusively dubbed (don’t judge me too hard guys, I was a different person back then).
For what it’s worth, the official English dub, handled by the Texan industry giant Funimation, is pretty good, from what I remember. However, far less positively, the character of Crona - who has been confirmed by the mangaka to be of ‘unknown gender’ and is only ever referred to in neutral terms in the native Japanese - is referred to using masculine language in the English dub. Funimation have since made a weak defense of this via Twitter, relating that they used ‘he/him’ because they thought using ‘it/its’ would sound too demeaning - so it appears SOMEBODY didn’t know how to use singular ‘they’, huh.
Regardless of Funimation’s misstep, though, a lot of interesting discussion can be made of Crona as a candidate for genderqueer representation. They’re very firmly in the category of what I like to call ‘Reformed Villain Enbies’, which is a more common trope than you’d think. In my opinion, they manage have a very poignant arc about overcoming their past trauma - which involved being forced by their mother to share their body with a monstrous being known as Ragnarok and commit mass murder on her behalf. Despite this, however, they’re able to eventually integrate into the ranks of the heroes and make the conscious decision to fight back against their mother.
I’ll fully admit that it’s been a long while since I watched the show and my perception of it may be clouded by nostalgia glasses - I’m also aware that Crona’s arc is handled differently in the manga, which I have not read. Either way, Crona managed to make an impression on me as a potentially genderqueer character with some nuance behind their depiction in a high-powered action shounen show like Soul Eater. Although, with that being said, there are actually many other examples of prominent shounen playing around with gender to various degrees, which I’ll get to in due time.
For now, though, it’s your regularly scheduled episode of ‘Best Girl Gets Done Dirty Once Again!’
This is another character that I feel slightly odd about putting in this section, as it isn’t so much the fault of the translation as the source material making some (in my opinion) very strange narrative choices that have resulted in a confused and unclear perception of the character among audiences.
For context, Rukako (also known as Ruka) is a femme-presenting AMAB (assigned male at birth) character in Steins;Gate who notably has a crush on the main character, Okabe Rintarou. Okabe acts in a very typically cishet fashion towards this fact, repeatedly reminding himself that Rukako has a dick, to the point where it seems natural for the audience to conclude this is supposed to be of some narrative importance. And the fact that Okabe stresses this point, the fact that he so vehemently believes Rukako to be a man, and the fact that we are viewing the narrative through this warped lens of Okabe’s, invites the audience to do the same.
However - and this is the part where I make my own opinions clear - I’ve always felt very strongly that Rukako is a transwoman. And while I don’t want to trample any alternative interpretations that anyone might have of Rukako, I think it’s pretty hard to ignore the fact that she has an entire arc based around her desire to become a woman, stating very explicitly within it that she wishes she was born a girl. The irony of the situation being that Okabe does not recognise Rukako as a woman until he finds himself in a parallel universe in which she was born with different genitals, which. Well. That probably says more about Okabe than it does about anyone else.
On a lighter note, let’s discuss some gay dystopian anime. Yay!
If you’re aware of No. 6, chances are you already know about the fact that it prominently features a slow-burn albeit well-written gay couple, but we’re not here to talk about that. One of the recurring supporting characters, a kid from the slums outside of the titular city of No. 6 known only as Inukashi (literally ‘Dog-loaner’, as per their profession), is gender-ambiguous. But this is an aspect to their character that can quite easily go over an audience’s head, or at least it did for me when I first watched it, with a translation that never really directly addresses it and while lacking the understanding of gendered Japanese that I have now.
Inukashi appears very androgynous, but they use the most macho of masculine pronouns, 俺 (ore) - although it should be noted that this pronoun is also used by characters who have rough or crass mannerisms regardless of gender, which fits Inukashi’s demeanour to a tee. However, there are several points in the anime that seem to indicate that Inukashi experiences gender dysphoria to some degree, potentially as an AFAB (assigned female at birth) person identifying as either nonbinary or male.
At one point they take in an abandoned baby which calls them ‘Mama’, and Inukashi is visibly flustered by this. In another episode, they show obvious discomfort at having to pretend to be a sex worker for the sake of the protagonists’ plan to the point that they decide to violently bail at the last minute. Of course, none of these instances alone work as confirmation, only as implication, but taken together I believe there’s a strong basis for this particular reading of Inukashi.
In regards to the original novel, the fan translation I read took an interesting approach whereby the pronouns used for Inukashi change according to the main character Shion’s personal perceptions of them. While I wouldn’t say this is a bad or ‘incorrect’ choice, I feel it can only really go so far, and only really works if we also get to see the point of view of the character in question.
To cap off this section I’m going to talk about another personal favourite, albeit one I discovered much more recently.
Kino’s Journey, as you might know, is a long-running series of light novels featuring the episodic travels of the titular Kino and sentient motorrad Hermes as they encounter various bizarre countries and cultures. It’s since been adapted into two separate anime series - one in 2003, the other in 2017. I’ve only seen the more recent version as of yet, so I’ll be using that as the basis for my analysis.
As far as I can gather there is no clear community consensus on Kino’s gender, although most summaries (including the MyAnimeList synopsis for the 2017 anime) utilise she/her pronouns, presumably because the character is confirmed to at least be AFAB. However, as we all know, that means nothing as far as gender is concerned.
In 2017, Kino uses 僕 and has a decidedly soft-masc style of speaking. The subs generally avoid directly gendering Kino, except on 2 occasions in which Kino is explicitly gendered by other characters. Interestingly enough, both cases feature characters we aren’t really supposed to like; in episode 2 Kino is addressed as ‘boy’ by an obstructive border guard, and Kino merely evenly replies with ‘Don’t call me ‘boy’. I’m Kino.’ Later on in the show a mountain bandit remarks that Kino is a ‘really cute girl’, presumably to imply he thinks of them as an easy target, only to get immediately shot down by his companion.
Towards the end of the series we also get an episode dedicated to Kino’s backstory, explaining that they were, in fact, originally a girl who received both Hermes and their inspiration to travel from a visitor to their homeland who was also named Kino. After the original Kino’s death they then skip town, consciously assuming his name and manner of speaking, and presumably using that as a basis for their androgynous presentation.
The broader context of this backstory is also pretty interesting as it relates to Kino’s identity. Their motivation to travel is brought about by their desire not to become an adult, as they were brought up in a culture wherein all children are forcibly made into adults at the age of 12 through some sort of ambiguous surgical procedure. Adulthood is strongly equated in this episode with the loss of freedom and personal identity for the sake of upholding one’s duty to society, and it’s also clear that Kino’s home culture views adults and children as very distinct categories with no possible overlap or inbetween. And, maybe it sounds like a reach to say this - but conservatives sure do love their clear categories, don’t they?
Kino’s gender identity post-backstory is never made truly explicit, but I feel there’s definitely something to be made of the themes here. Who is Kino? They are a traveler, never settling in any place as a matter of principle, belonging to nothing and no-one, absent even any particularly stringent moral code. In escaping from a culture so obsessive about categorisation, they cast off the notion of constructed social norms and embraced true freedom.
As a result, to me it seems natural to read Kino as agender, as a person who lives constantly on the inbetween in all aspects of their life. And it’s a shame that not too many translators seem to buy into this interpretation, as - to me at least - it’s the very essence of who Kino is as a character.
Part 2: In Canon We Trust
But enough of lamenting all the great translations we could’ve had, for now. Let’s talk about some characters whom both canon and fandom (insofar as I can tell) tend to agree are unabashedly out-and-proud genderqueer.
Although, bear in mind that canon representation doesn’t automatically mean good representation - as we’ll undoubtedly see later on in this section.
As we’ve seen via the examples of Attack on Titan and Soul Eater earlier, popular shounen series are no stranger to featuring gender-ambiguous characters for aesthetic or added intrigue or shits and giggles or indeed any other reason. And the biggest shounen giant of today’s anime landscape, My Hero Academia, is no exception.
While it’s definitely true that My Hero is even among its contemporaries not particularly great at featuring its small pockets of queerness front and centre, I still feel it’s worth talking about here as it, unlike the shows I previously discussed, has the grace to have included not just one but three distinctly genderqueer characters.
The first, the pro hero Thirteen (pictured) appears at the tail end of season 1 of the anime and has been officially confirmed agender. It’s also sort of implied that they may have no physical sex either due to having a body formed of a void (which, relatable) through which they use their Quirk to suck up anything and everything. This is, in my opinion, a pretty cool example of My Hero embracing and normalising all these vastly variant body types that exist as a result of Quirks manifesting in humans.
In the first arc of the 3rd season, we also meet two trans characters: Tiger, a transman pro hero so powerful he is able to make even petticoats hyper-masculine, and Magne, a transfemme member of the League of Villains with the ability to turn men and women into opposing magnetic poles (the show doesn’t address this, but I assume that her ability has no effect on enbies and that is presumably her one weakness). And although I’ve ranted (and will rant some more) about how genderqueer people are often relegated to the villain role, I actually found this setup pretty refreshing. My Hero clearly doesn’t discriminate along these lines when it comes to protagonists and antagonists, which I think is the correct philosophy - creators shouldn’t have to be focused on making their queer rep a hegemony of perfect angels who can do no wrong, as that would be boring as all hell.
As I said earlier, though, all three of these characters are very thoroughly relegated to supporting roles and aren’t prominently featured outside of individual arcs - even then, they’re still on the sidelines for the most part. Now, a Shounen Jump series that works an explicitly queer character into its main cast - that would be the true tea that I hope I will be able to drink before I die.
Now, onto something completely different, and arguably a deal more relevant. Because no analysis of genderqueerness in anime would ever be complete without somehow including...
Phosphophyllite and the Crystal Gems’ Wonderful and Wholesome Adventure into Abject Misery, or, as it’s known in Japan, Land of the Lustrous.
For those unaware, the story is set in a postapocalyptic distant future in which a shrinking community of crystalline beings, known as Houseki or Gems, are embroiled in a fight for their survival against the ethereal Tsukijin (or Lunarians), who want to smash them into smithereens and turn them into jewellery.
The anime does not go massively deep into the lore of its universe compared to the manga, but it is revealed within it that both the Houseki and Tsukijin, along with a group of aquatic beings known as Admirabilis, were all descended originally from humans. Only the Admirabilis seem to have retained any concept of gender however, and interestingly enough are also the only ones to have reproductive capacity.
The Houseki, meanwhile, have a rather feminine appearance but (other than their rather voluptuous hips) possess no distinctly gendered physical traits. Their language also reflects this, with many of them using typically ‘masculine’ pronouns and speech patterns (the main character Phosphophyllite uses 僕 while the lone wolf Houseki Cinnabar uses 俺, to name just a couple of examples). And, for once in a blue moon, the subtitle translators actually had the grace to let all the Houseki (except Kongo-sensei, who is characterised as male) go by they/them pronouns.
As a result Land of the Lustrous received a lot of praise from the queer community, and while I agree that it is a very interesting and unique series, I think it’s worth noting that it avoids ever directly stating that sex can be wholly uncoupled from gender. After all, the Admirabilis’ existence seems to imply that gender is a concept born from physicality rather than sociality. But it does what it does well, and I can’t really fault it too much.
Moving on, I suppose there was that one other recent anime that prompted a lot of discussion in the queer fandom...
Zombieland Saga was, in my opinion, a show that often wildly flailed and sometimes stumbled in terms of its narrative strength (and particularly in its animation, god), but still managed to be an overall decent show with a fun gimmick that even managed to get me (someone who has approximately zero interest in idol shows) invested at the beginning. However, one thing I felt it did do pretty well was the casual inclusion of Lili’s transness.
The midsection of the show is mainly focused on delivering each of the backstories of the main cast members (as the title implies, all of them are zombies and each of them died in different interesting and decidedly humourous ways). In Lili’s episode, this is prompted when her father turns up at one of the group’s live events and drops her deadname. After some shenanigans, Lili comes out as trans to the rest of the group and they each offer her vocal support, enabling her to face her father again.
So all in all, a pretty wholesome and fluffy episode, perfectly fitting in with the established themes and tone of the show. Of course, it is a very streamlined narrative that doesn’t explore the greater complexity and baggage of coming out in much depth, but a full 23 minutes that puts the spotlight on one character navigating her trans identity is still pretty cool, all things considered.
The main gripe I recall people having was with the translation, which, while still making it very obvious that Lili is a trans girl, made some admittedly rather odd choices - at one point Lili refers to her deadname literally as ‘the name I had before I died’, but instead of just using the phrase ‘deadname’, the subs instead render it as ‘my old name’ which to me doesn’t quite carry the same kind of nuance. People can, of course, change their names for a variety of reasons, but only ‘deadname’ specifically applies to trans people.
If you recognise the above screenshot then, well, props to you for being cultured, and if not, I suggest that you drop what you’re doing and watch all 11 episodes of Wandering Son immediately. (I joke, because that would mean you’d have to postpone reading any more of this stupid essay I wrote.)
In any case, Wandering Son is the heartfelt tale of two trans schoolmates, Nitori (pictured left) and Takatsuki (right), coming to terms with their own identities whilst navigating changing relationships with those around them. In polar opposition to Zombieland Saga, everything is presented in a realistic and nuanced way that doesn’t shy from the fact that coming out as trans can be a horribly messy business at times.
I personally felt its most major strength was in comparing the different experiences of trans boys and trans girls, particularly in its investigation of how certain behaviours are perceived differently by society at large according to one’s proscribed gender. The way it deals with language is also interesting - Nitori, despite identifying as female, continually uses the 僕 she has adopted since early childhood, and Takatsuki still retains a somewhat femme and soft way of speaking, using 私 (watashi) as his primary personal pronoun - which, while considered politely gender-neutral in a formal context has feminine connotations when used casually.
While I do think Wandering Son has a tendency to overfixate on clothing and physical appearance to the arguable detriment of other aspects of the trans experience, it’s still one I’d recommend wholeheartedly to any thirsty queer person seeking a good story in which trans individuals are featured front and centre.
Unfortunately, though, it appears we’re fresh out of wholesome now. Which may actually be a good thing, as I may or may not be about to royally piss everyone off.
The latest TV anime from legendary director Watanabe Shinichiro, Carole & Tuesday, had a rather… mixed reception within the queer fandom, from what I can gather. Which I’m tempted to say is in part a manifestation of the ‘Diverse Show Gets Held To Higher Standards’ phenomenon that was particularly egregious in the case of Steven Universe.
Then again, I also think a lot of the criticisms I’ve come across of it so far are pretty valid. So, let’s just go ahead and delve into this hot mess, shall we?
Carole & Tuesday, a show which ostensibly marries two of Watanabe’s favourite concepts - science-fiction and music - explores the futuristic music industry of a terraformed Martian colony, and does so with perhaps one of the most racially, sexually and gender-diverse casts in Japanese media. The show has a total count of 6 explicitly genderqueer characters (well, technically only 4 if we’re counting the Mermaid Sisters as one entity, but still an impressive number).
Speaking of which, this controversial trio probably ended up drawing the most ire of all, due to the fact that their appearance is as a brief one-off joke that then ascended to Legendary Meme status within the fandom. While I personally stan the Mermaid Sisters without even a trace of irony (I relate very hard to their general ‘fuck you’ vibe, what can I say) and think their song is a genuine bop (no, seriously), I can understand why people were miffed about the fact that they are never treated seriously by the narrative, particularly also as they are the only confirmed non-white genderqueer characters on the show.
Next there’s Dahlia, a female-identifying trans-coded character who is a major antagonistic force for most of the show and the mother of the titular duo’s main rival, the child star Angela. Notably, she’s depicted as an abusive parent with violent tendencies, and it certainly doesn’t help her case that in addition to being genderqueer, she’s also plus-sized, dark-skinned, and suffering from terminal illness.
But I felt there was still some small degree of nuance to her character and her relationship with Angela; she gets a brief moment of pathos on her deathbed, and it’s implied that her disposition resulted from having experienced the strain of growing up as a child star herself. (Just to reiterate: that alone does not in anyway excuse her actions, but it’s an interesting concept to explore - albeit one that was pretty shoddily handled in my opinion.)
Even Dahlia was done less dirty than Cybelle, though, who I’m extremely bitter about, not least because they (as an implied AFAB with a decidedly neutral presentation) are the particular brand of genderqueer closest to my own. Cybelle is actually an interesting case because while they are explicitly coded as genderqueer in their language and character design, the official English translation made the bizarre choice to give them exclusively she/her pronouns. But I’ve complained about that sort of thing enough already.
The main issue with Cybelle is that they are hardly even a character. They are given the singular character trait of ‘obsessive stalker’ and go as far as to physically harm and emotionally manipulate Tuesday, the object of their warped affections, in a way I found wholly uncomfortable to watch. I’m generally not very inclined towards this trope to begin with, but this particular instance felt all the more egregious in how arbitrary their actions felt in the wider narrative and, of course, the fact that they were genderqueer.
There is one properly sympathetic genderqueer character, however - Desmond, a legendary older musician who previously identified as a gay man, but over time adopted more and more androgynous tendencies. It should be noted that this transition is explained as being at least in part due to environmental factors - as Mars’s atmosphere is canonically able to alter the hormone balances of some people upon prologued exposure. Which I mean, it’s a bit weird, and not usually how transitioning works, but I’ll give it a pass, seeing as the show presents it fairly neutrally and doesn’t make a massive deal out of it.
Gatchaman Crowds is another show that, similarly to Carole & Tuesday, has multiple varied instances of genderqueer rep and doesn’t always get it right. Outside of that, though, it’s a genuinely interesting show that explores the very high-brow concepts of collectivism and democracy all while mixing in classic super sentai action.
The first potentially genderqueer character we meet is Rui, one of the show’s major protagonists, a tech genius and the weilder of the titular ‘Crowds’. Rui is AMAB and implied to also identify as male, but seems to enjoy glamming himself up when he leaves the house. I feel there are multiple readings you could make of Rui but I personally read him as ‘male-identifying crossdresser/drag queen’, so that’s what I’ll be going with here. The reason why Rui crossdresses is never made clear, but I always felt that it was meant as a part of his character and not something as simplistic as him just using it as an elaborate disguise. I feel that if that was the case, there’d be no need for him to dress the way he does specifically, and he continues to fight in drag even after showing his undisguised self to the Gatchamen (an action which also symbolically involves him opening himself up to the rest of the world).
Interestingly, while Rui is a very likeable, upstanding and well-intentioned character, his longtime nemesis Berg Katze is one of the most egregious examples of a queer-coded antagonist I’ve ever seen. Katze may in fact be the very purest distillation of the trope - androgynous, magenta-haired and lipstick-clad, revelling in mindless destruction and chaos and with a penchant for deep-throating random passerby (an action which also gives them the ability to change their appearance). So yeah - Katze isn’t great and was uncomfortable to watch, although the fact that they’re such an extreme and abstracted caricature made them a little easier to digest than Cybelle, at least.
The third and final genderqueer character in Gatchaman Crowds is O.D., who I actually didn’t realise was canonically genderqueer until I checked their MyAnimeList page - which once again I will blame on the subtitles failing to get this aspect of their character across. In any case, O.D. is depicted as a reliable older sibling to the other Gatchamen, androgynous and very casually gay, but in a way that actually felt a good deal more respectful than simply being treated as a punchline - as happens more often than not in this type of show.
It’s worth noting, of course, that O.D. (as well as Katze) are aliens and therefore technically fall into the category of ‘Nonhuman Enbies’, a concept that I touched on before with Nanachi and Crona. And while this doesn’t necessarily make those that fall into this trope bad rep, it of course risks depicting a phenomenon that is perfectly natural and found in humans as something essentially otherworldly.
Another interesting, albeit flawed, show that works in the concept of crossdressing - this time not only as a character trait but fully ingrained into the core of its narrative - is Princess Jellyfish.
The show follows the relationship between the shy jellyfish otaku Tsukimi and the outgoing fashionista Kuranosuke - or Kurako, depending on which form he’s in. What’s interesting about Kuranosuke is that unlike other crossdressing characters I’ve come across in anime, a lot more focus is put on how his crossdressing forms part of his identity rather than it simply being treated as a character gimmick. Kuranosuke, the son of a prominent politician who is expected to follow in the footsteps of his forebears, views crossdressing as a form of escapism and a gateway to freedom of expression. Not only that, but he also uses it as a way to pay homage to his estranged mother, whom it seems he was much closer to than his father.
Interestingly, Kuranosuke appears somewhat inexperienced as a drag queen - he habitually uses 俺 and at times drops his male alias when presenting as Kurako - unlike a lot of male crossdressers in anime, who prominently use オネエ言葉 (onee-kotoba, or ‘elder sister language’), a form of slang based on casually feminine speech that is used by some okama, transwomen and gay men in Japan. This choice in and of itself offers a deconstruction to the way crossdressers are usually depicted in anime, which I personally found very refreshing - as the act of crossdressing is something that spans all gender identities and forms of gender expression.
Although the show sort of drops the ball in the latter half of its run, it is still a thoroughly celebratory exploration of non-normative gender expression insofar as Kuranosuke’s arc is concerned. After meeting Tsukimi and her fellow otaku housemates, he starts to consider his love of fashion less in superficial terms and more as a means to boost the confidence of himself and others in a way that felt quite poignant and true to the feelings of those who crossdress.
Also, as an aside, mangaka Higashimura Akiko confirmed in an interview that her original concept of Kuranosuke was female, until she realised it would be far more interesting to write about a fashionista who also happens to be male. So, there you go.
Okay, this is a bit of a strange one, because while they technically are canon, the way they’re treated within the narrative is strange to the point that I’d actually rather I didn’t have to talk about this character here at all (i.e. it’s the character that’s canonically trans but that I kind of wish wasn’t for all the good it does). But I will persevere, as it’s for the noble cause of science.
The Vision of Escaflowne, a mecha classic from Studio Sunrise, is a beautifully animated adventure epic and coming-of-age story that follows Hitomi, a girl who finds herself unexpectedly isekai-d into a world on the brink of destruction and, while grappling with her own turbulent emotions, realises its only hope of salvation may lie in her uncanny ability to predict the future. (I say all this because while I had significant problems with the show I still think it’s an underrated classic and really enjoyed it, so I’d hate to leave only a negative impression of it. As I am about to get pretty negative, unfortunately.)
So, the world Hitomi ends up in, as she quickly realises, is facing its greatest threat from the fervently militaristic Zaibach Empire. This plot point is introduced through the character of Dilandau, an unhinged and bloodthirsty general who forms grudges on childish whims and is excessively violent to the point that he causes problems for his fellow countrymen. Dilandau is arguably quite heavily queer-coded from the beginning, with an androgynous look and an extreme vanity (case in point, he starts a blood feud with one of the protagonists because his face gets scarred by a sword, implying that he is completely obsessed with his physical image).
As I was watching, I was tempted to just right Dilandau with a casual ‘oh, well, this was the ‘90s, I admittedly signed up to it expecting it to be somewhat problematic and to show its age in places, and it ain’t like I’m unfamiliar with the Evil Twink archetype’. But then, just in the final clutch of episodes, this character who I wasn’t expecting to even really get an arc suddenly got one, and things got wild.
So early on in the show, we’re introduced to one of the main leads, Allen, and the fact that he is hung up about the disappearance of his long-lost sister Celena is communicated not long after we meet him. As you might expect, he does in fact reunite with this sister in the final episode. As you might not expect, upon this reunion, Celena is revealed to have been subject to ruthless experimentation at the behest of the Zaibach Empire, which tore away her former identity and turned her into a murderous super-soldier.
...Yeah.
There’s something to be said about the wider context here - the themes of Escaflowne are, in classic Sunrise fashion, transparently about seeking peace and compromise between warring factions in a decidedly humanist fashion, by rejecting militarism and instead bringing the two sides together emotionally. This is epitomised by Hitomi, the very feminine female lead, being the one to end the war through her profound emotional connection to those around her, whilst the old men and tough-guy warmongers of the Zaibach Empire are defeated, their ideal of attaining peace via violence and world domination proven wrong.
This can be quite easily read as a triumph of empathic femininity over toxic masculinity, which on the surface sounds like a very progressive message for a show to have. Unfortunately, though, it’s this idea that’s carried over into Dilandau’s arc, who upon their reunion with Allen stops fighting and just straight up transforms back into Celena (I’m not even exaggerating, that is literally what happens).
So, not only does Dilandau’s arc end up equating transitioning from one gender to another with literal military brainwashing and child experimentation, but is only made worse by the fact that this arc is so horribly rushed to its conclusion. Dilandau’s de-transitioning takes all of five seconds and there isn’t even any significant payoff to this reveal, despite it being built up over the course of almost the entire show.
So, yeah. Escaflowne in general has rights. But Dilandau’s arc sure doesn’t.
If you follow this blog at all (which you don’t, let’s face it, because I wouldn’t either), you might be aware of the fact that two years ago I posted cringe in the form of an overly long and poorly written review of the 2011 Hunter x Hunter anime. You can read it if you’re itching for a way to waste time, but bear in mind I can’t be certain of how much it reflects my current opinion of the show. Although, one take in it that I haven’t budged on since is that its genderqueer rep is… questionable.
As was the case with My Hero Academia, Hunter x Hunter has exactly 3 characters worthy of discussing in this regard, and while that’s definitely a sizeable amount for a show whose source material began its serialisation in the ‘90s, it’s only arguably ever upfront about one of those characters.
The character in question, Alluka, appears in the final arc of the anime, and is the younger sibling of the series’ deuteragonist, Killua. Alluka is referred to by Killua using feminine language (i.e. 妹, imouto, younger sister), but by the rest of his extremely dysfunctional assassin family as 弟 (otouto, younger brother) or 彼 (kare, he/him). It’s shown that Killua is much closer to and more accommodating of Alluka than the rest of the family, so this differential usage of terms implies that Alluka is an AMAB who presents and identifies as female.
Although the Zoldyck family as a whole don’t actually seem to be total strangers to the concept of transness (Kalluto, the youngest child, has a very ambiguous presentation, although are also somewhat estranged from their family so we never get to see them interact), they’re still nonetheless depicted as being deathly afraid of Alluka. Although, notably, there’s an additional reason for that, and one that is justified by the narrative - namely that Alluka shares her body with an eldritch abomination from another dimension that possesses extraordinary and unpredictable powers.
Although Alluka’s gender identity bears no direct relation to this fact, it’s still pretty discomforting that this is the only sympathetic (and only truly canonical) rep in the entire series. Plus, there’s also the fact that Alluka has absolutely zero agency within this entire arc, a choice that seems very narratively odd considering the entire point is meant to be that she is her own human and not just the mindless vessel for an extant alien being. And it’s precisely because of this that we’re left with no idea as to how she personally feels about herself, we just have to trust Killua’s word - which immediately weakens any message the show could have regarding her gender identity.
(Although of course, because it’s Hunter x fucking Hunter, you’ll always get one person who holds up this nugget of representation as yet more proof of the show being a supposed masterpiece. And no, I am not bitter about this fact.)
In any case, I did mention a third character. And that character is Neferpitou, a prominent villain in the famous (or infamous, if you’re me) Chimera Ant arc, who appears as a femme-presenting catperson who enjoys cutting people up and putting them back together again for fun. Lovely stuff. I’ve actually heard that their character design is a deal more androgynous in the manga, although in both iterations they refer to themselves using 僕 and are never outright gendered in the sub translation.
Anyway, at the risk of writing another ten million words on why Hunter x Hunter is Just Okay Actually, let’s move right along to the next section.
Part 3: Aren’t You Reaching?
Now that we’re in the home stretch, I thought it’d be fun if I just pulled out all the stops and dumped in a bunch of wildcard characters who are less obviously genderqueer, but whom I personally like to read as such.
The intention of this section is to raise some eyebrows and start some arguments, although it may be the case that that much has already happened. In which case, I don’t apologise.
So it turns out that Carole & Tuesday was not the first of Watanabe’s directorial credits to feature a character or characters of somewhat ambiguous gender. Ed (full name Edward Wong Hau Pepelu Tivrusky the Fourth) is a semi-permanent member of the core Bebop crew in the ‘90s classic Cowboy Bebop (case in point - Escaflowne has no excuse), and a child genius hacker who is depicted with some of the most consistently charming and unique character animation within the medium.
Ed is confirmed AFAB near the end of the series, during an episode in which they meet their long-estranged father - who calls Ed by what is presumably their birth name, Franciose. However, up until this point, the subject of Ed’s gender is left to audience speculation, with Ed acting deliberately coy when asked about it and explaining that they chose their name for themselves (which certainly sounds like something a trans or enby kid would do). I also seem to remember the pronouns other characters ascribing to Ed changing in the sub, although I can’t speak for the dub, despite the fact that it’s the version most fans are more familiar with. Finally, Ed presents in a very androgynous way and has an extremely carefree and wild attitude, seeming not to really care too much about how others may interpret them.
Although, from what I gather, this doesn’t seem to be a particularly popular interpretation of Ed, who is generally referred to using exclusively she/her pronouns on information sites and wikis. And while I use they/them here because I feel it fits Ed’s character best, I wouldn’t even say she/her is necessarily wrong - Ed only expresses joy at meeting their father again and does not correct him when he uses their birth name, so I think it possible that they are comfortable with any kind of pronoun.
Ouran High School Host Club is an interesting show - ostensibly meant as a parody of shoujo and ‘reverse harem’ tropes, it offers some valid commentary on class divisions and gender stereotypes, albeit in a decidedly whimsical and lighthearted fashion. The anime follows protagonist Fujioka Haruhi, and ordinary kid who gains a scholarship to enrol in the exceedingly elite Ouran High School. She subsequently ends up joining the resident host club, at first ostensibly to pay back debt, but later ends up enjoying herself working as a host in the company of her fellow club members.
Presumably you can also see how this already sounds pretty trans as a premise, right? And it’s made all the more spicy by the fact that while Haruhi presents as feminine prior to attending Ouran, she, like Ed, doesn’t seem to care too much about her outward appearance or how she is perceived by others. Her father is also later revealed to be a drag queen who works at an okama bar and it seems her outlook on her own gender was due to his influence. (As a sidenote, there exist a subgenre of host/hostess establishments within Japan known as 男装カフェ (dansou cafes), which employ drag kings. Just food for thought.)
Although, one thing I’d like to point out here is in just how badly Suou Tamaki’s character is handled in relation to Haruhi’s apparent genderqueerness. Tamaki is the oblivious host club president and the one who pines the most for Haruhi (I will not call him a love interest, as it goes against my principles and moreover, there is never any indication that Haruhi truly reciprocates in the anime). He’s also introduced as being a massive chauvinist - very transparently as the type of chauvinist who believes himself a gentleman, but a chauvinist nonetheless.
In any case, although he develops a little over the course of the show, Tamaki is and remains consistently obsessed with the idea of Haruhi being cute and girly, and on several occasions openly disdains the fact that she won’t act all effeminate towards him outside of her host duties. And Tamaki, in spite of his obvious disrespect towards Haruhi’s own feelings, is ostensibly a character whom the audience are supposed to be sympathetic towards. While he’s often used as a punchline and made fun of by his fellow club members, his actions are never portrayed as anything other than the result of him being childishly and innocently ignorant. So, yeah. We don’t stan Tamaki in this house. (Or Kyouya, for that matter, but we don’t have time to get into that mess. Just know that he did something borderline illegal.)
Okay, this one is potentially the biggest reach here, so do bear with me.
Director Yamada Naoko of Kyoto Animation fame has worked on a good deal of projects that include some form of queer subtext, whether that be in the quintessential ‘cute girls doing cute things’ K-On! franchise or the lesser known Tamako Market, which very casually features a transwoman in its supporting cast. A Silent Voice, however, is probably what she’s most known for - and rightly so, as it’s an incredible film - but also features a character who is near and dear to my heart and so I will never stop talking about my genderqueer headcanon for them.
Nishimiya Yuzuru is the younger sibling of the film’s female lead Shouko - a deaf girl who was once bullied by the male lead, Shouya. Shouya (and the audience) initially assume Yuzuru is male, which is understandable given her presentation, use of 俺 and very direct, masculine mannerisms, along with the fact that she takes it upon herself to act as her older sister’s bodyguard. And although she initially doesn’t correct Shouya when he asks if Yuzuru is Shouko’s boyfriend, she eventually communicates to him (through sign language) that she is a girl.
It’s mainly because of this direct admittance that I’m very tentative in this headcanon I have for Yuzuru, as I feel there can be no clearer affirmation than the character themselves openly admitting an aspect of their identity. So it’s possible that I’m delirious for even seriously considering that this character could be genderqueer in the first place. I suppose the possibility of Yuzuru being a trans girl remains (and this would work, given the context of her gender reveal being something she shares as a way of demonstrating her newfound trust in Shouya), although that to me seems unlikely.
For me, it was more in the fact that even after her gender reveal, Yuzuru - much like Haruhi, and unlike a lot of anime characters who are initially presented as male and then later revealed to have been AFAB all along - does not significantly change her behaviour post-reveal and continues to very casually present and act in the same way she has always done. With this, there’s never any notion that her earlier actions were due to any sort of pretense. There’s also the fact that even though we do see her in her school uniform by the end, her initial reluctance to attend is never directly explained in the movie - so it could be potentially inferred that she stopped attending due or partially due to her not particularly enjoying wearing feminine clothing or being treated as feminine.
But yeah, I’m fully aware of the fact that this isn’t ‘real’ rep so feel free to gun me down, it’s okay, I walked up this hill prepared to die on it. Nishimiya Yuzuru is enby, and that’s all I have to say.
Yuasa Masaaki’s Kaiba is a show that’s ripe for analysis on so many levels. It’s set in a dystopian space-age with a similar premise to Altered Carbon (namely, that the defining feature of this world’s society is that human memories can be stored on a chip and freely altered, and via this system one’s consciousness can also jump between different physical bodies). It also has a truly distinctive aesthetic that wholeheartedly rejects the norms of dystopian storytelling, and through it all explores the implications of its premise on class divides, the environment, and identity, all in just 12 episodes.
Although, for the purposes of this essay, only one question really matters; if you can change your body at will, then would gender (as determined by physical traits) become meaningless? And is transferring from a physically male body to a female one considered a transition?
While not altogether focused on this, Kaiba does more or less directly explore the notion of how gender operates in its world in its 6th episode, with… admittedly somewhat mixed results.
So in this episode, the titular Kaiba, who has been traveling now for some time in a borrowed body that originally belonged to a girl named Chroniko, meets a character called Gell, who possesses a physically male body but who - as it soon becomes apparent - has a female identity.
At this point in the story, Kaiba has not yet recovered any of his lost memories and so has no real notion of who he is. He has occupied only two bodies before, one male and one seemingly sexless. Up until this point, he has been completely unaware of his own gender identity and expresses this fact upon meeting Gell, whom he instinctively realises is ‘like him’, and through this realises that he is in fact a man in a woman’s body.
This is an interesting setup with a lot of potential parallels you could make to the process of realising and contextualising your own transness - which, at least in my experience, often requires you to know and relate to the experience of another trans person on some level. (Although, it’s worth noting that it’s debatable how much this idea would make sense in a world that has already accepted that one’s physical gender can change on a whim, to this world where social norms dictate the idea that gender is a fixed phenomenon.)
There were some very odd takes in this episode, though. I have the most problems with the scene wherein Gell stands over Kaiba in Chroniko’s body in a sexually threatening manner and later admits to having had ‘lustful urges’ for his body that she was tempted by but prevented herself from acting on. This is the classic ‘My Dick Made Me Do It’ trope in action, which perpetuates the myth that somehow just the act of possessing a penis is enough to make a person want to uncontrollably fuck. And I shouldn’t have to say that this is wrong, it’s completely wrong, and that you’re you no matter what body you’re in, that the way you express your sexuality won’t suddenly change just because you’ve got different genitals.
In the episode’s defense, none of the truly uncomfortable scenes lasted particularly long and I was overall glad that the series decided to touch on this idea, although I can’t help but feel that it was something of a missed opportunity not to somehow work in the idea of class divides - as that would fit in really well with the established themes and would be a much more poignant and direct real-world parallel to the idea of ‘living as a different gender’ than what we got.
Conclusion: So Queer, Yet So Far
So after all that, what have we learned? (Other than the fact that I still can’t write, of course.)
Well, as I said in the introduction, genderqueer characters have existed as a concept in anime for some time now, although they are classically (and in some cases remain to this day) in the background. And even when they are placed in the forefront, it’s still exceedingly rare even nowadays that their depiction isn’t without issues - whether due to the source material itself or the translators.
That being said, my point here isn’t to begrudge these shows entirely for handling or mishandling these aspects, but more simply to bring these aspects to the attention of others. In fact, I picked out all of these characters because I personally enjoyed the shows they feature in (with the possible exception of Hunter x Hunter, because I love to be a contrarian about it) and thought they’d be interesting to discuss from this perspective.
If I have one hope for the future regarding how genderqueerness is depicted in anime, it would simply be that anime continue to do its thing by evolving as an artform, while also including more explicitly genderqueer stories from the perspectives of creators who are themselves genderqueer. Because, although I have nothing against cis people doing whatever, we don’t tend to make as many mistakes as they do. Just sayin’.
As a small disclaimer, I’m aware that this essay was hyper-focused on anime, discussing mostly anime-original works or prominent adaptations of other media. The world of manga contains many other examples of genderqueer rep that I didn’t have the time or scope to discuss here. Additionally, even as far as anime is concerned, this is by no means an exhaustive list - so if you have any other examples, or alternative takes on the characters mentioned, feel free to let me know about them. The discussion doesn’t have to end here!
In any case, I hope you found this piece informative or thought-provoking in some way, and if it got you to think differently about any of these characters’ depictions I’d honestly be happy.
And as always, thanks for reading this far - this piece ended up being a lot longer than I expected it would be. I’ll try and make my next thing at least under 7K words. I mean it this time.
