What Do Rishu and Mirishu Mean? Otaku Slang for Having Taken the Course on a Series

“Have you done the rishu on that series?” someone asked, and I thought they were talking about school. This guide covers what rishu and mirishu mean in oshi-katsu, how they differ from words like “watched” and “prep,” and how to think about watch order and considerate conversation.

What Rishu and Mirishu Mean

In oshi-katsu and otaku culture, rishu (履修) means watching, reading or playing a work, and mirishu (未履修) means you haven’t yet come across it. Rishu is the school word for choosing and completing a course, shifted over to describe experiencing a work.

Fans say things like “I hear it’s a classic, so I want to do the rishu,” or “I’m doing rishu on the old series before the new one.” More than a simple viewing report, it carries the feeling of wanting to know the background before joining the conversation. At heart, though, it’s a hobby, and it isn’t meant to be imposed on anyone like a required course.

Origins and History

Rishu is an ordinary word from the education system, meaning to choose and complete prescribed courses. Online, from around the 2010s, a humorous metaphor treating anime, manga, films and stage plays as things you go to study became conspicuous. Who used it first can’t be traced, but the ease of sharing only your progress without naming the work seems to have helped it take root in fandoms with a steady inflow of new fans (shinki fan).

Examples

• “I heard my oshi is in it, so I did the rishu on the source manga up to volume 3.”
• “I haven’t done the rishu on that movie yet. I want to catch up by streaming before the event.”
• “Finished the rishu on every series. Now I can finally go see the new one without worrying.”
• “A friend who hadn’t done the rishu binged it all, so tonight’s probably an all-night reaction session.”
• “A fandom without a vibe of blaming people for mirishu is really comfortable.”

How It Differs From “Watched,” “Read” and “Prep”

Saying you’ve done the rishu doesn’t mean you remember every detail. For a long series, simply adding a range such as “through season 1” or “through volume 5 of the source” helps conversation mesh, even where source-manga fans and anime-only fans (gensaku-zei / anime-zei) are mixed together.

There Isn’t Just One Way to Choose a Watch Order

1. Release order. Follow the order in which it was released. You can savor even the changes in direction and art style
2. Chronological order. Rearrange by the story’s internal timeline. Suited to people who want to sort out the setting as they go
3. Start from your oshi’s episodes. Use the episodes with the person you’re after as your starting point, then branch outward
4. Try one short piece first. Use a short film or recap as your entrance, and decide for yourself whether to continue

None of these is the correct one. When recommending, it helps to ask first whether the other person prioritizes clarity, avoiding spoilers, or time required, so your guidance doesn’t miss the mark. Some people fall straight into the numa, the bottomless swamp of fandom, on the momentum of a binge, others watch one episode and are satisfied, and both begin at the same entrance.

To Avoid Blaming People for Mirishu

The order in which people come to a work, the time they have, and the streaming services they subscribe to all differ. Instead of “You haven’t seen it yet?” try “How far is it okay to talk?” That one swap changes how many people can join the conversation.

When you spread the word (fukyo), don’t hand over every episode like homework. And when you’re the one who hasn’t done the rishu, say your wishes first, such as “It’s fine to tell me the plot outline,” or “Just please don’t reveal the ending,” so the other person can gauge how much to say.

Some Works Can’t Be Watched Even If You Want To

Streaming ends, discs go out of print, and stage plays can’t be reproduced in the same form once the run is over. Being mirishu can mean not only a lack of time but a difference in conditions: the work is simply out of reach. Rather than steering someone to unauthorized uploads when the official routes are closed, search together for other paths such as official re-streams, reissue requests, and library or archive collections. That extends the life of the work.

Notes From The Oshi Lab: The Blank Space of Mirishu Is Where Someone Can Be Surprised for the First Time

What’s interesting about the rishu metaphor is that it brought in a culture of talking about works by how far you’ve gotten rather than how many you’ve consumed. That the word mirishu is used so naturally means fans have already developed the skill of holding conversations that assume differences in progress. In the scenes we’ve observed, the more a fandom shares progress up front, the greater the sheer volume of reactions tended to be, because the conditions for speaking up without worry are in place.

From the creators’ and organizers’ side, the word can also be seen as a scale that makes the cost of joining visible. The longer a series runs, the higher the wall of episodes that piles up in front of latecomers. Officially presenting a recommended viewing order once, preparing a separate entrance that takes a few dozen minutes, and keeping older works available to watch: none of these is flashy, but each is worth considering as a design that reduces the number of people who leave because “I can’t join the conversation until I finish the rishu.” The blank space of mirishu is also a place where someone can still be surprised for the first time.

Related Terms

Source-manga fans / anime-only fans / Spoilers and spoiler lifting / Fukyo / Numa