⚠️ This article contains full spoilers for Episodes 1 through 4 of Until the T-Shirt Dries (Tシャツが乾くまで). If you have not watched Episode 4 yet, I recommend finishing it before coming back.

Episode 4 of Until the T-Shirt Dries is titled “可哀想なひと,” or “A Pitiful Person.” There is no sudden major twist this time, yet this is probably the most uncomfortable episode of the series so far. Sakiko asks a question that no one can really answer: after losing your partner, how long are you supposed to grieve before it is considered enough? If you laugh too soon, return to your old life too soon or even fall for someone else too soon, will people start thinking, “Already?” Episode 4 aired on July 31, 2026, and recorded a household rating of 7.0% and an individual rating of 4.0% in the Kanto region, according to Video Research. Its household rating surpassed Episode 1’s 6.9%, making it the highest-rated episode of the series so far.

But what I still cannot stop thinking about is the letter. Sakiko receives a letter with no sender’s name, yet recognises Mitsuru’s handwriting immediately. He does not explain where he has gone. He does not apologise, and he does not say whether he will ever come back. He leaves her with only one completely ordinary household reminder: remember to clean the dryer filter in the washing machine. Episode 1 had only just revealed that Mitsuru had always quietly taken care of the filter Sakiko did not even know needed cleaning. By Episode 4, he is writing specifically to tell her that from now on, she needs to remember to clean it herself. I did not cry at that moment. Instead, I felt something suddenly turn cold in my stomach. It does not sound like a goodbye. It sounds more like someone who has already decided never to return making sure the last household chore is properly handed over before leaving.

Until the T-Shirt Dries Episode 4 Information: “A Pitiful Person,” Air Date and Ratings

Episode 4 aired on July 31, 2026, as part of TBS’s Friday Drama programming block. Its subtitle was “可哀想なひと,” meaning “A Pitiful Person.” The household rating reached 7.0%, surpassing Episode 1’s 6.9% and setting a new series high, while the individual rating of 4.0% tied Episode 1 for the highest so far. The ratings progression is interesting: 6.2% for Episode 2, back up to 6.8% for Episode 3 and then past 7.0% for Episode 4. The story has not suddenly sped up, nor has it relied on a huge twist to pull viewers back in. Instead, the ratings have gradually climbed as the relationships between the characters have become increasingly difficult to untangle.

Category	Details
Episode	Episode 4 of 10
Subtitle	可哀想なひと — “A Pitiful Person”
Air date	July 31, 2026
Household rating	7.0%, the series high, surpassing Episode 1’s 6.9%
Individual rating	4.0%, tied with Episode 1 for the series high
Ratings by episode	Episode 1: 6.9% → Episode 2: 6.2% → Episode 3: 6.8% → Episode 4: 7.0%
Streaming platforms	Netflix in Taiwan; U-NEXT and TVer in Japan

Looking at the subtitles of the first four episodes together, Episode 4 marks a very obvious shift. “Until the Secret Is Discovered,” “The Scent of the Third Friday” and “Things We Struggle With” all kept the audience focused on the clues Mitsuru and Azusa left behind, trying to understand what really happened between them. With “A Pitiful Person,” however, the question suddenly returns to Sakiko and Tatsuo. There are still no answers about Mitsuru and Azusa, but the people left behind have already been forced to confront something else: how exactly are they supposed to keep living from here?

Until the T-Shirt Dries Episode 4 Recap: The Aquarium, Fireworks and Mitsuru’s Filter Letter

The Two Sets of Tickets Are Swapped | Sakiko Goes to the Aquarium, Tatsuo Takes the Fireworks Tickets

Episode 4 picks up immediately after the phone call at the end of Episode 3. Sakiko answers Mitsuru’s call at the café and receives only one sentence: “I’m sorry.” There is no explanation and no indication of where he is. By the end of the call, Sakiko seems to understand that Mitsuru is not coming home anytime soon, although she still does not know why. Tatsuo then tells her something else that is difficult to ignore. Mitsuru bought two tickets to a fireworks festival, even though Sakiko is terrified of fireworks. Azusa bought two tickets to an aquarium, even though Tatsuo hates aquariums. Both of them had prepared to go somewhere their respective spouses would never want to visit, and both had bought two tickets.

Simply placing those two sets of tickets side by side is enough to invite suspicion. Sakiko and Tatsuo eventually decide to swap them. Sakiko takes the aquarium tickets, while Tatsuo takes the tickets to the fireworks festival.

Sakiko later goes to the aquarium alone. It is also somewhere she once visited with Mitsuru. The scene hardly needs any dialogue. A memory that once belonged to two people is now retraced by only one of them, and the image itself is already painful enough.

The Fireworks Festival | Sakiko Reveals What Happened in High School, While Tatsuo’s Confession Is Drowned Out by Fireworks

Tatsuo originally plans to take Sho to the fireworks festival, but his mother stops Sho from going. When Sakiko finds out, she simply offers to accompany Tatsuo instead. But almost as soon as they arrive, her body begins to give out. The two leave the crowd and find somewhere else to watch the fireworks. It is there that Sakiko finally explains why fireworks festivals frighten her so much. The first time she attended one in high school, something deeply uncomfortable happened to her. The drama does not fully show what took place. Sakiko only tells us that much herself.

Later, the two talk about where their lives have ended up. Mitsuru is missing. Azusa is dead. One of them does not know where their spouse has gone, while the other knows with certainty that their spouse will never return. During this conversation, Tatsuo quietly says, “Would it really be so wrong for one pitiful person to be with another?” At that exact moment, fireworks explode overhead and Sakiko does not hear him at all. Those few seconds are the most agonising part of the scene. Tatsuo has actually said the words out loud. The audience hears them clearly. Sakiko is the only person who does not know. So far, this is probably the closest Tatsuo has come to admitting how he feels, and the confession does not even get the chance to reach the person it was meant for.

“How Long Are You Supposed to Be Pitiful?” | A New Relationship After Six Months and the Hamster Story Ask the Same Question

Under the fireworks, Sakiko also brings up something that happened at work. One of her supervisors began dating someone new six months after his wife died. When his coworkers found out, many of them felt disappointed in him, as though six months were simply too short, short enough to make them question whether he had ever loved his wife as deeply as they thought.

Someone then mentions another junior colleague. After their hamster died, they quickly got another one and even gave it the same name. Of course, the two situations do not carry remotely the same emotional weight, but the way the coworkers talk about them follows a strikingly similar standard: if you can have someone or something new this quickly, does that mean the one before did not matter very much?

What Sakiko is really asking is how long someone is supposed to grieve after losing another person. If six months is too short, what about a year? Two years? If you start laughing again, going out again or even falling for somebody else, does that mean you recovered too quickly? This is where the subtitle “A Pitiful Person” really begins to land. At first, people around you may simply feel sorry for someone who has suffered a loss. But once that person starts looking a little less pitiful, a completely different set of expectations can suddenly be used to judge them.

Sho Says “There’s One Person Missing” | After Sakiko Visits Tatsuo’s Home, He Apologises to Azusa

When Tatsuo’s son Sho returns home, he happens to meet Sakiko as she is preparing to leave. He does not say anything complicated. He simply says that since his mother died, there is one person missing from the house, and he wants Sakiko to come over.

Sakiko eventually does visit Tatsuo’s home, and while she is there, she tells father and son that Mitsuru is actually still alive. As she prepares to leave, Sakiko thanks Tatsuo for continuing to spend his days off with her. Tatsuo does not say much in response, but he looks visibly disappointed. Once Sakiko is really gone, he sits alone in the room and says into the empty space, “I’m sorry, Azusa.”

That line is actually even more direct than the confession drowned out by the fireworks. Tatsuo knows that he is beginning to care about Sakiko, and he also knows that this makes him feel guilty. In Episode 3, he also spoke to an empty room. Back then, he said, “I’m going to open it, okay?” because he was still maintaining the habits of the life he had shared with Azusa. In Episode 4, facing the same room without Azusa in it, the words have changed to “I’m sorry.”

Mitsuru’s Filter Letter | No Sender, No Goodbye, Just a Reminder to Clean the Dryer Filter

Later, a letter arrives at Sakiko’s home with no sender’s name on the envelope. She recognises Mitsuru’s handwriting immediately. The letter does not explain where he is now. It does not contain an apology, nor does it say “I’m okay” or “I’ll contact you again.” It only reminds her of one ordinary thing: remember to clean the dryer filter in the washing machine.

And somehow, that single sentence is what finally makes Sakiko understand that Mitsuru does not intend to come back. He had always been the one who cleaned the dryer filter. Sakiko did not even realise it was something the washing machine required. Now he has gone out of his way to write it down for her, which feels less like someone temporarily leaving home and more like someone saying: from now on, this is yours to take care of.

There is no formal goodbye, but all the small practical details of daily life have already been handed over.

After receiving the letter, Sakiko takes the Nagano address she found in the notes on Mitsuru’s phone and sets out for it, eventually arriving at a house. Episode 4 ends before revealing who lives behind that door or why Mitsuru left that address behind.

What Does “A Pitiful Person” Mean? Episode 4 Is Really Asking “How Long Are You Supposed to Be Pitiful?”

Episode 4 does not rush to continue investigating what exactly happened between Mitsuru and Azusa. Instead, it spends much more time with Sakiko and Tatsuo. One is dealing with a missing husband, while the other has just lost his wife. From the outside, both of them are supposed to be “pitiful people.” But that creates another question: after losing a partner, how long are you expected to remain that way? On what day are you allowed to laugh again, go outside again or even fall for someone new without other people deciding it happened too quickly?

The supervisor Sakiko mentions is the clearest example. His wife died, and six months later he began dating someone new. His coworkers’ first reaction is not, “How is he doing now?” but “Isn’t six months a little fast?” But if six months is too fast, when does it stop being too fast? One year? Two? Does someone need to remain visibly miserable for a certain amount of time in order to prove that they really loved their spouse? This is one of the most uncomfortable aspects of the episode. People on the outside have no idea what someone’s daily life actually looks like, yet they can very easily take a number on a calendar and use it to judge how deep a relationship must have been.

That is why the subtitle “A Pitiful Person” becomes more interesting as the episode continues. When someone says, “I feel so sorry for you,” you usually recognise it as concern. But once a person has occupied that identity for long enough, it begins to feel as though even the timing of when they are allowed to leave it is no longer theirs to decide. The moment they begin looking less devastated, someone else may ask, “You’re already okay?”

Tatsuo’s line, “Would it really be so wrong for one pitiful person to be with another?” becomes even more painful in this context. He does not directly tell Sakiko that he likes her. Instead, he first creates a reason that would make it acceptable for them to become closer: if everyone already sees the two of them as pitiful, then surely there is nothing wrong with two pitiful people staying together. It sounds like a confession, but it also sounds a little like he is trying to justify his own feelings. And such an important line is drowned out by fireworks. Sakiko never hears it. In the end, only Tatsuo knows that he has already moved forward, even if only slightly.

The Dryer Filter Payoff | From “Maybe It’ll Fix Itself” in Episode 1 to “Remember to Clean It Yourself” in Episode 4

What makes the letter so brutal is the way it brings back a tiny detail that had been sitting quietly in the background since Episode 1, only for its meaning to have completely changed.

In Episode 1, when the drying function on Sakiko’s washing machine starts acting up, Mitsuru casually says, “Maybe it’ll fix itself.” We later discover that the machine never fixed itself at all. Mitsuru had simply been cleaning the dryer filter all along, while Sakiko did not even know the washing machine required that kind of maintenance. At the end of Episode 1, Tatsuo tells her that she should “clean the filter she sees someone she loves through.” In Japanese, “フィルター” can refer both to a physical filter and a figurative lens. At the time, it sounded like a clever double meaning casually threaded into the dialogue. By Episode 4, it becomes clear that the filter has never actually disappeared from the story.

The fact that Mitsuru literally writes “remember to clean the filter” in his final letter is more painful than a long goodbye would have been. He has always known Sakiko does not know how to clean it. He also knows that if he is no longer there, this small task he once handled will have no one to take it over. So before leaving, he makes sure to leave instructions. The letter does not explain his feelings and does not tell her where he has gone. It leaves behind only the most ordinary piece of domestic information, almost as though he were formally handing back a responsibility that once belonged to him.

In Episode 1, it was still, “Don’t worry about it. Maybe it’ll fix itself.” By Episode 4, it has become, “Remember to clean it yourself from now on.” The same dryer filter begins as evidence of the quiet ways Mitsuru cared for Sakiko at home and ends as a reminder that he is preparing to remove himself from that life. The drama never needs Mitsuru to write, “We’re over.” This change alone says enough.

Fumiya Takahashi on Miku Ubukata’s Dialogue | Why the Same Line Changes Meaning in Different Contexts

Fumiya Takahashi, who plays café employee Naoto Yano, made an interesting observation in an interview. He said that Miku Ubukata’s dialogue can mean one thing when you look only at the scene in front of you, another when you consider the scenes before and after it, and something else again by the time you finish the entire episode. Because of this, when he plays Naoto, he does not simply perform the surface meaning of the dialogue. He first thinks about how much the character knows at that exact moment, how much he is hiding and which side of him the audience should be allowed to see.

He also described Naoto as occupying a position somewhere in the middle of the story’s shifts in emotional temperature. That feels quite accurate. Naoto does not have a huge amount of screen time, but whenever he appears, the weight of the story, which has usually been focused on marriage, disappearance and death, often shifts direction. Sometimes it only takes a few perfectly ordinary lines for the emotional tone of an entire scene to change.

Looking back at Tatsuo’s line in Episode 4—“Would it really be so wrong for one pitiful person to be with another?”—makes Takahashi’s point even clearer. If you watch only the fireworks scene, it looks like a confession that never reaches the person it was intended for. If you bring in the earlier discussion about “how long someone is supposed to remain pitiful,” you realise Tatsuo is also searching for a justification. He is not simply saying that he likes Sakiko. He first places both of them inside the identity of “pitiful people,” as though becoming close to each other might feel less like doing something wrong if they share the same label.

Then, once the episode later shows him standing in the empty room saying, “I’m sorry, Azusa,” the earlier confession becomes much harder to treat as something purely romantic. Tatsuo is not unaware that he is beginning to move forward. He knows it very clearly. He simply cannot yet admit it without guilt.

Episode 4 Performances | Yu Aoi at the Fireworks Festival and Ayumu Nakajima’s “I’m Sorry, Azusa”

Yu Aoi’s strongest work in this episode comes during the fireworks sequence. Sakiko’s distress is not suddenly turned into a dramatic collapse. Her body reacts first. She visibly reaches a point where she cannot continue, and only afterwards does she slowly begin to talk about what happened to her in high school. She does not heighten the emotion when telling the story either. If anything, she speaks so calmly that it becomes even more painful, as though the memory has been sitting inside her for so long that she can finally describe it in an almost ordinary tone.

Ayumu Nakajima, meanwhile, has to carry Tatsuo forward after his complete breakdown in Episode 3. He does not cry heavily again in Episode 4, nor does he have any obvious emotional explosion, but the sense that he “knows he should not move forward, yet has already moved forward a little” remains present throughout the episode. The clearest moment comes after Sakiko leaves, when he stands alone in the room and says, “I’m sorry, Azusa.” There is no struggle and no further explanation. He simply says it. That makes it feel as though the thought has already gone around in his mind countless times, and this is merely the first time he has finally spoken it aloud.

Sho’s storyline is also important. When Kaoru Kubota says, “There’s one person missing,” the line is almost completely unadorned. A child simply says that one person is missing from the house, yet in doing so, he states everything the adults have been unable to say clearly. Tatsuo knows that the empty place belongs to Azusa, and Sakiko knows that she has only come to share one meal with them. That is why all the politeness, gratitude and unspoken hesitation that follows becomes even more obvious after Sho’s simple remark.

Episode 4 Review: Mitsuru Does Not Leave a Goodbye, Only Instructions for Daily Life

Mitsuru Still Remembers the Dryer Filter: Why This Letter Makes It Harder to Stay Angry

My first reaction when I saw the letter was actually anger. Mitsuru has disappeared this completely, and when he finally leaves one message for Sakiko, all he writes is a reminder to clean the dryer filter? But the anger did not last very long. It quickly turned into something much harder to process. Mitsuru still remembers. Even after deciding to leave, he is still thinking about the fact that Sakiko does not know the washing machine filter needs to be cleaned and that the machine may start malfunctioning again once he is gone. That means he has not stopped caring about her completely. He simply no longer intends to remain beside her and keep taking care of those things.

That is exactly what makes it so difficult to stay angry. If Mitsuru had left behind an openly cruel letter, Sakiko would at least have a reason to hate him. Instead, he leaves behind one of the smallest details of their daily life, something that barely even resembles a goodbye. When Episode 1 first introduced the filter, I actually went and cleaned the filter in my own home. By Episode 4, seeing the same object again no longer made me think about the washing machine. It made me wonder what someone would remember to explain if they were truly leaving a place where they had lived for a long time. Maybe it would be exactly these insignificant little details. They can look more like proof that a relationship truly existed than any intentionally written declaration of love.

“How Long Are You Supposed to Be Unhappy?” | The Easiest Thing for Outsiders to Do Is Start a Timer

When Sakiko mentioned the supervisor who began dating someone new six months after his wife died, my first instinct was also, “Isn’t six months a little fast?” But thinking about it for even a moment makes the problem obvious. That judgment is based almost entirely on the number “six months.” The people around him do not know what those six months were like, what his marriage was actually like or what the couple went through before his wife died. Yet a single length of time becomes enough for outsiders to start deciding whether he truly loved her.

The hamster story feels deliberately uncomfortable when placed beside it because two completely different kinds of loss are forced into the same standard: if something new appears this quickly, does that mean the old one did not matter very much? But beginning to live again is not the same thing as replacing the person who came before. By the end of the episode, I felt that the question “How long are you supposed to wait?” probably does not have an answer at all. Even the person grieving may not know exactly when they have “moved on.” If people on the outside genuinely want to do something helpful, the very least they can do is stop putting a stopwatch on somebody else’s grief.

How I See Tatsuo After Episode 4 | The Problem Is Not His Feelings, but His “Pitiful People” Justification

Tatsuo annoyed me in Episode 1. Episode 2 began showing his vulnerability. By Episode 3, I genuinely felt sorry for him. Episode 4 makes me worry about him instead. Not because he has developed feelings for Sakiko so quickly, but because of the way he understands those feelings.

What he says is, “Would it really be so wrong for one pitiful person to be with another?” not simply, “I like her.” It sounds like a confession, but at the same time it also sounds like he is trying to give himself a reason he can accept. As though if both people are suffering badly enough, getting close to each other somehow counts as less of a betrayal. But if a relationship is genuinely built around the fact that “we are both pitiful,” what happens when one of them eventually starts doing better? How much of that reason remains? And Tatsuo also has Sho. When Sho says, “There’s one person missing,” it is very clear that the empty place belongs to Azusa. Someone new cannot simply walk into the house and fill that absence.

That is why Tatsuo saying “I’m sorry, Azusa” to the empty room at the end actually reassured me slightly. At least he is not moving forward without any awareness of what he is doing. He knows that he has started to care about Sakiko, and he knows that those feelings make him uncomfortable. What I want to see now is not necessarily whether Sakiko and Tatsuo eventually become a couple. I want to know when Tatsuo will be able to stop relying on the idea of “two pitiful people” and confront his feelings for what they actually are.

Until the T-Shirt Dries Episode 5 Preview: Nearly One Year Since the Accident, the Nagano Address and Mitsue Arrive

Episode 5 will air on the evening of August 7, and the timeline will jump directly to a point when the accident is nearly one year in the past. By then, Sakiko and Tatsuo are no longer simply meeting because they are investigating Mitsuru and Azusa. They occasionally eat at each other’s homes and have established a weekly routine of going to the laundromat together. Neither has clearly defined what they are to each other, yet their daily lives have gradually developed recurring routines that belong only to the two of them.

Meanwhile, Sakiko will follow the Nagano address left on Mitsuru’s phone, while someone connected to Azusa’s past will appear in Tatsuo’s life. Mitsue, a staff member at the children’s home where Azusa grew up, played by Masako Miyaji, visits Tatsuo after learning about the accident. Combined with the still-unexplained clues about Mitsuru’s family from earlier episodes, the point at which their pasts intersect is likely to become an important storyline going forward. Tatsuo will also encounter someone when he goes to lay flowers at the accident site. The official preview does not directly reveal that person’s identity, but the scene does not look like a meaningless coincidence.

Episode 4 does not rely on a huge twist to move the plot forward. The biggest change is actually Sakiko and Tatsuo themselves. The first three episodes remained focused on uncovering what kind of relationship Mitsuru and Azusa had. By Episode 4, the two people left behind have started changing too. Tatsuo developing feelings this quickly makes it easy to react with, “Is this really okay?” But then Sakiko asks, in the same episode, “How long are you supposed to remain unhappy?” and the judgment that seemed so easy to make suddenly becomes much harder.

And I still keep thinking about that letter. Mitsuru’s final message is neither a goodbye nor an explanation. It is simply a reminder to clean the dryer filter. In Episode 1, he quietly took care of it for Sakiko and only said, “Maybe it’ll fix itself.” By Episode 4, he is writing to tell her that from now on, she needs to remember to clean it herself. He still remembers that she does not know how. He still cares enough to worry about whether the machine will have problems later. But he still does not intend to come home. That may be the most painful part: the feelings have not disappeared cleanly, but the practical details of their shared life have already begun to be handed over.

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