Motomete Yamanai
This is so healing. I have a soft spot for the two main characters. The character growth happens for both MC and ML because of encountering each other. It isn’t a violent kind of change driven by drama, it’s actually very heartwarming progression. Plus, the characters and side stories are also loveable and contribute to the dynamic and the plot. Very well-written and thought-provoking in a tender kind of way, in my opinion.
Hanaya no Nikai de
One of the most emotionally satisfying short read for me. Captured that indescribable feeling of loneliness, and finding a home in someone who understands. Chef’s kiss! The two characters have a special place in my heart (cry). They couldn’t be anymore different from each other, but also quite similar to each other. This is just a dish that was perfectly seasoned and balanced for me, and I didn’t know perfection until I tasted it. Of course, this is still a one-of-a-kind so it would be unfair to set this as the standard for other of my favorite mangas — and I don’t want to anyway! Savor the uniqueness, it’s special exactly because of that. I personally resonate with Aki — some of his sentiments touched a deeper side of me truly, and the burden and blessing of being tied down by the family you love but also couldn’t be the place you belong was a complicated and pervasive feeling that this manga masterfully encapsulated (it’s so beautiful and resonant and accurate that I really feel deeply moved in my heart). Ryuu is that kind of character that has a dark past and is trying to return to shore but resigned to such a feat not being possible, and still he has to struggle. Regret is like this. Redemption is impossible, only absolution could be found in pieces of everyday, and some days there were none, and the darkness could engulf you — in that sea of pain and loneliness, Ryuu finds another traveler on a boat traversing the same murky sea, it’s Aki. Aki has his own struggles of navigating, even though he isn’t stained by the sea. The two are vastly different, but both could understand that the other faced their own insurmountable landscape. That well of emotions resonant to each other already served as somehow like a beacon of light — in this lonesome place where no outsider could enter, someone else had finally shown up. Hearts shivering in the cold could share whatever little warmth that flickered by themselves, and that made a big difference. Embers can kindle each other to last longer than by itself. Anyway, as you can see, I was really moved by this one. I would have probably hated the young Ryuu, but I could not hate him as the more mature Ryuu — he might be a tortured soul but he’s still better in that he regained his heart and humanity, however small it may be. The past cannot be erased but a human heart is redeemable however small of a part. His futile struggle to survive the pain of his own past while understanding that he could not truly be forgiven, but accepting the punishment anyway, is really hard for me to dismiss — and in Aki, Ryuu seems to be moved to do the righteous things, and maybe that is the perfect remedy for his tendency to self-sabotage. He sleeps around, but with Aki he’s settled down, because as I see it, there’s something about Aki that reaches Ryuu’s soft side and brings out the clarity of mind in him. Aki on the other hand, didn’t have much to do but be himself to bring about change in Ryuu — and that’s the best effect I believe. It’s not other people changing us that brings about the most impactful and long-lasting change, but the change that we ourselves made. Ryuu has to be the one to act on changing and wanting to change, but of course it’s easier said than done, however it seems to be easier and more natural for him to access that better side of himself when with Aki. (For instance, the matter of sewing. When Ryuu saw Aki as a child enduring by himself and crying in the corner without lashing out on anyone, he had an epiphany himself. Maybe a useless thing like him could be useful after all (I.e. by sewing) — and that alone was like pulling him off the ledge by a step). Nothing was going right, all the expectations were too much, and then comes this person, a child like Aki, expecting nothing of no one and taking in everything by himself. If Ryuu could do something about it, then he would — Ryuu can be kind that way. Exactly because of this, Ryuu was also redeemed. He wasn’t such a useless son, a useless husband, useless son-in-law or father. He was just Ryuu-san who can sew for the crying child Aki, and lift that burden slightly from Aki’s heart. Aki on the other could find the comfort in Ryuu-san. A person like Aki who was reliable and perceptive and too good to other may have reservations about showing his deeper emotions arbitrarily — however, it’s different with Ryuu. In the same way that only Aki can move Ryuu, Ryuu had a way of catching Aki in his vulnerable moments and knowing what to do to alleviate the suffering. Ryuu himself said it: to paraphrase, he didn’t want Aki to suffer by himself if he could do something about it. And Aki said it himself too, in his own words: along the lines of not wanting Ryuu to suffer by himself either. These two are truly a perfect match — I just can’t (proceeds to drown in my own feels) I reread this because I needed some healing and soul-rendering, during my passive-depressive catatonia, and I did not regret it. My favorite of the Obinata household love stories, hands-down.
Hinadori wa Shiokaze ni Madoromu