Tears blurred the world in front of her.
Aimi had tried to hold herself together from the very first minutes - breathing deep, biting the inside of her cheek, bunching her pajama fabric in her fist as if it could keep something from spilling out of her chest. It didn't work. The emotion ran over anyway, stubborn and relentless, and the harder she fought it, the more obvious it became that she was losing.
In Japan, tearjerkers weren't exactly what dominated everyday chatter; audiences were used to adrenaline, quick jokes, and battles choreographed down to the last cut. Even as a longtime fan, Aimi had no resistance when a story decided to press on the right wound - the quiet kind of loneliness, affection that arrives too late, and the sort of healing that hurts before it soothes.
By the time the episode reached its ending, after Hishigaki vanished, all that remained was a street washed in orange twilight, the edges of the light almost burning, and Natsume running shoulder to shoulder with Nyanko-sensei. They chased each other, bickered playfully, and spoke in voices softened by tenderness - not like someone explaining a mystery, but like someone trying to keep a memory alive.
They spoke of Hishigaki… and inevitably, of Natsume's grandmother, Natsurei.
Each time a name was returned, a fragment of remembrance came with it: pieces of Natsurei's life preserved by youkai, like old photographs found at the bottom of a drawer. That was what crushed Aimi from the inside. Grandmother and grandson had never truly met, and yet, because of the Book of Friends, they seemed to be speaking across time - as if fate had left a narrow crack open just so a single "I'm sorry" could exist somehow.
When the ending song began - "Natsu Yuuzora," that airy, otherworldly voice floating over the silence - her last restraint dissolved. The sound didn't push the scene; it held it. And inside that gentleness, everything Aimi had been keeping down finally spilled out.
"And this… this is what Director Sora Kamakawa calls a healing anime…?"
She blew her nose, wiped her face in a hurry with a tissue, and stayed there staring at the TV as if she might shatter the feeling if she blinked too hard. There was still pain, of course - the kind that comes hand in hand with gratitude. But underneath it, a strange calm settled in, and with it a strength clearer than what she usually carried through her days.
Crying and being moved were only the surface. What mattered was what the episode left behind: the question that lodged in your throat, the delicacy with which it treated losses no one noticed, and the courage to say that kindness, too, could be a conflict.
Aimi sat in silence for nearly two minutes, listening to "Natsu Yuuzora" all the way to the last second, as if stopping early would be a kind of disrespect. Only then did she notice the teaser for next week's episode appearing in the corner of the screen.
The title flashed up: "The Shrine of Tsuyukami."
Right after, the local station in Tokushima rolled into commercials with that casually cruel normality only television could manage. A smiling host started pitching a supplement "for fatigue and low energy," all exaggerated promises and cheerfully bright music - far too upbeat for the hour.
Aimi turned the TV off immediately. She didn't want anything to crack what was still trembling inside her chest.
She pulled out the Blu-ray box of Voices of a Distant Star and took the folded poster of Director Sora Kamakawa from inside. She smoothed it carefully, studied the image for a few seconds - like she was searching it for an answer to how someone so young could hit so deep - then grabbed tape and tools. When she was done, the poster was fixed to her bedroom door, visible from almost any angle, an unavoidable reminder.
After that, she opened her phone and logged into NatsuYume, the forum she'd been using since middle school. She found Natsume Yuujinchou in the database like someone returning home, went straight to the rating box, and gave it a perfect ten without the slightest hesitation.
Only then, quietly satisfied, did she lie down and let exhaustion take her.
It was still only 10:30 p.m. Across the rest of Japan - especially in regions where viewers were used to following seasonal premieres - fans were still buzzing, praising the impact and quality of Hiiro no Sora's first episode and calling it "the ruler of the autumn cour," as if the title were official.
But inside the communities dedicated to Shikoku's four prefectures - Tokushima, Kagawa, Ehime, and Kochi - the atmosphere was different. Hiiro no Sora had its share of talk, sure… but that night, the tide had turned in a way no one could ignore.
The topic climbing, multiplying, swallowing page after page, was Natsume Yuujinchou.
"Guys… did anyone else cry watching Natsume? I feel like there's a knot in my throat, damn it."
"Me, me, me. I thought it was just me being soft. Came to the forum and - turns out everyone's the same. I'm over twenty, I completely broke down watching an anime, and my wife had to come comfort me in the middle of the night."
"This is my first time watching something directed by Sora Kamakawa. I knew his name when Voices of a Distant Star blew up, but honestly I always thought, 'it's a teenager's work, how impressive could it be?' Today I got slapped in the face. How does he make an animation this… human?"
"It's everything together. Script, music, visuals. If it were just the story, I'd get teary. But the soundtrack comes in beside it, nudging without forcing, and then it's over. You can't hold it back."
"Huh? What are you all even talking about? I came into the Shikoku section and it's nothing but people discussing this Natsume thing. Wasn't Hiiro no Sora amazing? Why aren't you hyping Hiiro no Sora - why are you praising this local anime instead?"
"I watched Hiiro no Sora at eight too, yeah. But I can't help it - Natsume hit me harder. I'm only still awake because I'm waiting for the premiere score to drop on NatsuYume… please, rate Natsume high. Push that score up."
"Did anyone get why Hishigaki disappears right after getting her name back?"
"Maybe she lasted all this time for one single wish: to hear Natsurei call her name one more time. Once Natsume helps his grandmother 'fulfill' that… the wish disappears, and she just fades away."
"And the name 'Book of Friends'… says everything, doesn't it? The owner of that notebook didn't see youkai as monsters. I was expecting a fighting anime - turns out I was shallow."
"I cried like an idiot, but what stayed was this warmth in my chest. Seriously. Out of this cour's premieres so far, for me, Natsume is the best."
"Is it really that good? I'm just a casual viewer. I came to the forum hoping to find people to praise Hiiro no Sora with, but the way you're talking, it sounds like Natsume is even better. I didn't watch episode one tonight… if I start following from episode two next week, will I be too lost?"
"Follow it, man. It's not too late at all. And if Natsume can keep the level of the first episode… this is going to become a classic."
"Does anyone know what the insert song and the ending are called? They're so good."
"We'll only know once the album comes out. And by the way… those tracks are from the director himself. Sora Kamakawa composed almost all of them."
"?"
"Seriously?"
"Dead serious. That big profile, Sumire, posted about it today. She said most of the tracks are his."
"He's not… eighteen?"
"Damn. That kid's unreal."
No matter which thread you opened, in every Shikoku section without exception, Natsume Yuujinchou was the center of the conversation. And it clashed completely with the nationwide chorus praising Hiiro no Sora - a gap too wide to go unnoticed.
Industry people, studio staff, entertainment journalists, even producers who lived by sniffing out trends - one by one, they started paying attention to the same phrases repeating over and over:
"Made me want to cry."
"It healed me and wrecked me."
"It's a healing anime."
"I can't get it out of my head."
What kind of work could cause an effect that concentrated, that fast, that consistent? And why were people in those regions saying shamelessly that Natsume was better than Hiiro no Sora?
Among the most hardcore fans of projects tied to screenwriter, a discomfort began to grow like a shadow.
The feeling was far too familiar.
Not long ago, Voices of a Distant Star had started as a regional broadcast… and it was precisely Shikoku's explosive reaction that boosted its premiere score, fueled the discussions, and turned it into real sales - into a genuine phenomenon. Now, seeing Natsume Yuujinchou being praised the same way, with the same intensity, by the same slice of viewers… it felt like watching history raise its hand to strike again.
No. It couldn't be.
Still, they didn't move. The rule was well known: after a TV broadcast, NatsuYume would release the premiere score in roughly an hour. There was no point panicking before the number appeared.
When the clock hit 11:30 p.m., the rating finally surfaced - quietly, at the top of the page.
9.3.