Alioth
patreon
I just want to quietly draw manga Chapter 187
🕑 Added 2025-06-18 18:36:33 +0000 UTCJanuary 9th. A week had passed since the season’s anime premieres.
As expected, the four most anticipated titles going into January—Frozen Witch, City of Echoes,I Got Summoned by a Demon Queen from the Sewer and Now I’m Her Househusband, and A Merchant from Another World—had all aired their first episodes. None of them disappointed.
By the end of the week, Frozen Witch topped the charts with 3.1 million views.
Kneeling on a Washboard followed with 2.8 million.
City of Echoes came in third with 2.6 million.
Merchant ranked fourth, just above 2.5 million.
And in fifth—surprising nearly everyone—was 5 Centimeters per Second.
In just a week, its view count had surged past 2.3 million, closing the gap with Merchant. Considering its debut had only pulled 1.1 million, the growth rate was staggering—over a 100% increase. That made it the fastest-growing show of the month.
Even Frozen Witch, with all its fanfare, had grown by less than 60%.
Clearly, 5 Centimeters was being buoyed by word of mouth. Every streaming site showed a rating above 9.0. Fans praised the visuals, the music, the grounded emotional weight. Even major industry sites had started writing editorials about it.
One article read:
“5 Centimeters per Second is a breath of fresh air. It’s not selling cute girls, fanservice, or tropes—it’s simply telling a story. And the animation team, led by Kazuya Mori, has done a stunning job capturing it.”
Skeptics began paying attention. Viewers who had passed on it initially were now coming back to check it out—and willing to pay for it.
But outside the boardrooms and spreadsheets, audiences were settling in for the next episode.
The second chapter of 5 Centimeters per Second, titled Cosmonaut, had just gone live on all major platforms.
On her couch, Mizuna pulled up the episode on her laptop.
A friend had recommended it last week—“Trust me,” they’d said, “ignore the big studios. This one’s different.”
She’d been skeptical at first. Sure, it wasn’t technically a micro-budget—paired with Voices of a Distant Star, the production budget had reportedly hit 50 million yen—but it was still a mid-tier project, and one made by a temporary team at that.
Still, curiosity got the better of her.
From the first episode, she’d been hooked.
And now? She was back for more.
As the episode opened, her eyes widened.
A boy and a girl stood in a wide open field. Stars dotted the sky. The rising sun bled through the horizon, casting a golden light. The wind rippled across the grass as clouds and stars shared the same frame.
It looked unreal. Like a dream.
This isn’t just good. This is something else entirely.
Mizuna stared at the screen, awe creeping into her expression.
She’d watched hundreds of anime. Her standards were high. Visual fidelity was everything.
But this? This was next-level.
She immediately went digging for credits.
While details were sparse, she came across an old interview. In it, Kazuya had casually mentioned that Haruki—credited as the screenwriter and series creator—had personally designed most of the key scenic shots.
Those breathtaking moments?
They were all his.
So it’s not just the writing. He’s the one crafting the visuals, too.
Mizuna blinked at her screen.
Had they blown the entire budget on episode one?
That had been her initial worry. But now, with episode two airing and looking just as polished, maybe this team was the real deal.
She relaxed back into her seat as the story moved forward.
The timeline jumped forward. The boy—now in high school—was still writing to the girl, despite their growing distance.
Mizuna let out a soft breath.
A week had passed in the real world. But in this show, years had flown by.
And yet… he was still holding on?
---
The second episode of 5 Centimeters per Second—Cosmonaut—had barely begun when Mizuna noticed something.
Takaki was still the same boy, just taller now, as he transitioned from junior high to high school.
But Akari hadn’t appeared at all. Instead, the story focused on another girl: Kanae Sumida.
She rushed to school from the coast at sunrise, detouring to the archery club just to “bump into” Takaki.
And when he spoke to her?
She blushed.
Yeah… this girl’s definitely in love with him.
As the episode continued, her feelings became even clearer.
Her friends teased her about it—she didn’t deny it. Her sister offered her a ride home; she declined, choosing instead to wait around until Takaki finished archery practice, hoping to walk with him again.
“If I had a tail, I’d be wagging it uncontrollably. I’m glad I don’t—how embarrassing that would be!”
“Even so, just riding the train home with Takaki-kun… makes me happy.”
Mizuna smiled faintly.
There was something relatable about Kanae’s awkward affection—the nerves, the hesitation, the joy over the smallest moments. It brought her back to her own high school days.
In just a few minutes, Kanae felt real: a third-year student torn between planning her future and navigating her first love.
And though Mizuna still wanted to know what happened to Akari, seeing Takaki through Kanae’s eyes added a new layer to the story.
Flashbacks revealed more. Kanae had fallen for him back in junior high, when he transferred to her school. She studied hard just to get into the same high school. For years, she stayed by his side—not as a girlfriend, not even as a close friend. Just… there. Quietly liking him. Noticing the drinks he bought. Watching him text someone else.
“He’s always messaging someone. I used to wonder—what if it was me?”
Even as they walked home, Takaki barely spoke. He always seemed distant, distracted. And Kanae, beside him, was deep in her own thoughts.
Are those texts to Akari?
Mizuna found herself feeling… sorry for Kanae.
Such a sweet, genuine girl—pining for someone who had clearly given his heart to someone else years ago.
The contrast between the two episodes became clearer.
The first episode had shown how deeply Takaki and Akari cared for each other—and how hard they tried to stay connected before the move.
Now, in episode two, years had passed. Takaki was no longer in Tokyo. He’d changed schools, entered high school, and met Kanae.
And yet…
He hadn’t changed much.
Kanae planned to “accidentally” meet him after school and confess. But when she reached the lot, his bike was already gone.
He’d left early.
Mizuna winced.
From start to finish, it was all one-sided. Kanae chased moments with him. But Takaki never once sought her out.
He was kind—but never warm. He treated her the same way he treated everyone. There was no malice in it, but no closeness either.
And yet, he wasn’t cold.
Just… detached.
Mizuna could feel it. The boy in this episode felt weighed down. Compared to his earnest younger self, this Takaki seemed subdued, like he was going through the motions.
Was he still stuck in the past?
Later that evening, Kanae found his bike on the roadside.
She followed the trail to a quiet hilltop. There, she saw him—alone, sitting in the grass, staring silently at his phone.
A flicker of sadness crossed her face.
“Every time I get close to Takaki-kun, it hurts.”
Still, she approached him. They chatted. He was as polite as ever.
“He’s so kind… it makes me want to cry.”
They talked for a while under the open sky, then rode home together.
As they biked down the road, a transport vehicle passed, carrying a satellite.
“They say it travels at five kilometers per hour,” Kanae said.
The line made Takaki flinch—barely. But Mizuna caught it.
Her thoughts jumped back to that quiet line from the first episode: “Cherry blossoms fall at five centimeters per second.”
That couldn’t be a coincidence.
Takaki’s expression said it all.
Something had happened. Somewhere along the line, he and Akari had lost touch. Those two kids who promised to stay in contact—were they strangers now?
Soon after, another scene appeared.
Takaki sat alone again, this time in his room. He typed out a message on his phone.
Then deleted it.
No recipient. No saved draft. Just empty words erased as soon as they were written.
“When did I start sending messages to no one?”
He closed the phone, silent.
And that was it.
Mizuna’s heart ached.
Back in junior high, Akari waited for Takaki for five hours in the snow. They didn’t even have phones, just handwritten letters. That bond had been so strong. And now?
He had a phone.
But no one to send messages to.
So much had changed in just a few years.
It felt so real.
And that made it all the more painful.
They cared so much in the beginning... and just like that, distance pulled them apart?
Mizuna sat in silence.
The screen faded to black, but her mind lingered on that unspoken distance—between Takaki and Akari. Between Takaki and everyone else. Between him and the past he couldn’t quite let go.
Comments
Wanderingsock
January 9th*
