The room quickly fell silent as Misaki sat on the sofa, flipping through the pages of the manga manuscript.
Miyu had quietly positioned herself behind her sister.
In the Japanese version of 5 Centimeters Per Second, character and place names were naturally altered, and the timeline was adjusted to fit the narrative.
Since Rei was from Tokyo, the setting was shifted to Tokyo from over a decade ago.
While the cherry blossom-lined streets and the train tracks cutting through the city didn't exist in reality, their absence didn't significantly impact the story. In fact, over 90% of schools, buildings, and streets depicted in manga are fictional.
However, given Tokyo's vastness and the appropriate historical context, Rei managed to find a similar sloping road with train tracks at the end through extensive research in the library. The only difference was the absence of cherry blossom trees lining the road in reality.
Rei faithfully recreated these scenes in the manga.
(T/N— The original author based his story in Shanghai, which Ashnoir changed which is fine, but paragraphs similar to above might appear. This is also why some numbers may have errors because the story was supposed to be based in China.)
The manga opens with a scene of a boy and a girl chasing each other down a sloping road.
Their conversation unfolds:
"Did you know? They say cherry blossom petals fall at 5 centimeters per second."
"What?"
The speed at which cherry blossom petals fall is five centimeters per second.
Akari, you know so much, the boy said.
Miyu flipped to the next manga page.
Cherry blossom rain cascaded through the gaps between the girl's outstretched fingers. She turned back to the boy and smiled gently.
Hey, don't you think it's just like falling snow?
Miyu felt a slight stirring in her heart.
She was the type to become deeply immersed in stories, and Rei's manga style, now fused with her own soul, was precisely the kind that drew readers in completely—beautiful, aesthetically pleasing, with background compositions that evoked a strong sense of atmosphere.
So that's what the title "5 Centimeters Per Second" means?
His dialogue is so evocative, Miyu thought, glancing at Rei, who was sitting beside her, sipping coffee with his head bowed.
The story then moved into its main plot.
The boy and girl raced to the end of a slope. The girl crossed the train tracks first, but the barrier beside the tracks lowered, separating them on opposite sides.
The girl held up her umbrella and turned back to smile at the boy.
Akari! the boy called out.
If only Takaki could be here to see the cherry blossoms with me, the girl thought, her face lighting up with anticipation.
A passing train then blocked their view.
Misaki lowered her foot from her other leg and sat up straight. She had initially been flipping through the manga pages quickly, but now she turned back to reread the earlier pages.
The manga adaptation of 5 Centimeters Per Second spanned over a hundred pages. Following the conventions of the Japanese manga industry, the Cherry Blossom Chapter and Cosmonaut arc were divided into multiple episodes.
The final episode, 5 Centimeters Per Second, stood alone as a single episode.
In total, the manga comprised five episodes.
There was no music, no voice acting.
Only the rustling of pages turning in the silent villa hall and the sisters' breathing, which grew heavier or lighter in rhythm with the manga's unfolding narrative.
Rei couldn't possibly capture every detail of the animated version of 5 Centimeters Per Second in black-and-white manga panels. Yet, the pervasive sense of loneliness, isolation, and sorrow from the original work steadily accumulated across each page, gradually eroding the hearts of Miyu and Misaki.
Akari and Takaki, two young friends who bonded over shared hobbies at school, had always assumed they would advance to the next grade together and remain inseparable forever.
However, due to family circumstances, Akari had to transfer schools. On the night before her departure, she mustered the courage to call Takaki, only to receive a harsh, emotionally charged response from her friend.
After the transfer, Takaki carried the weight of his past actions, haunted by the pain he had inflicted on Akari when she needed comfort most. A year later, through their exchange of letters, the two finally resolved to meet again.
They put their plan into action.
Takaki meticulously planned their rendezvous, detailing the bus routes, transfer points, and arrival times in their letters.
But the train was delayed by a blizzard.
In those days, information wasn't readily available. If Takaki didn't arrive on time, Akari would likely assume she had been stood up.
Especially on such a bitterly cold day.
As the train ground to a halt in the snow, Takaki, tormented by the missed deadline and on the verge of tears, could only pray:
Please, Akari, don't wait any longer.
The story's sorrowful atmosphere gradually intensified until...
At dawn, after hours of delay...
Takaki finally arrived at the agreed-upon station, assuming Akari had already gone home in the sub-zero weather. He pushed open the waiting room door.
Misaki flipped to the next page of the manga manuscript.
The waiting room, illuminated by a kerosene lamp, was dimly lit in the black-and-white panels. Yet, in the early morning hours, the solitary figure of a girl with her head bowed and back turned, instantly caught her eye.
An overwhelming wave of emotion surged through her.
Akari... she was still waiting!
Miyu, Misaki's younger sister, was far less composed. By this point, her nose was already red. Mortified at the thought of crying over someone else's manga, she stubbornly maintained a cool facade, her cheeks flushed.
She glanced at Rei and found him smiling back at her.
Rei's smile eased Miyu's tension slightly.
Hmm, he seems like a cheerful guy. Even though the story's art style evoked loneliness and sorrow, she hoped the ending would be happy.
As she continued reading, she learned that Akari had initially believed Takaki had broken their promise. Clinging to a sliver of hope, she had waited bitterly until dawn. When the boy finally arrived...
Misaki turned the page again, her composed expression vanishing as she gazed at the next manga panel. A pang of sympathy flickered in her eyes.
The panel contained no dialogue. Akari, having sensed Takaki's arrival, clutched tightly at his sleeve, her head bowed so her face remained hidden. Not a single word conveyed the turmoil she had endured waiting from their promised meeting time of 8 PM until the early hours of the morning, nor why she couldn't bear to leave the train station and go home to rest.
Yet the few teardrops falling onto the back of her hand spoke volumes.
Misaki stared at this single panel for a full two minutes, struggling to calm her racing thoughts.
The subsequent scenes depicted the pair strolling through snow-covered streets, sharing a tender kiss beneath a cherry blossom tree, and spending the night talking in an abandoned wooden hut by the roadside.
Finally, as dawn broke, Takaki and Akari parted ways at the train station.
They exchanged blessings before parting.
Would they ever meet again?
Could their promise to watch the cherry blossoms together next year still come true?
As Misaki turned the page, she realized that the first chapter, "Cherry Blossom Chapter," had ended.
The title of the second chapter was: "Cosmonaut."
Cosmonaut?
Why this title?
Misaki continued reading.
The story now unfolded through the eyes of Chen Tian, a high school girl from a seaside village, chronicling the daily life of Takaki, a boy who had transferred from the bustling metropolis of Tokyo.
She harbored a one-sided love, admiration, and secret crush on him.
Takaki always gazed into the distance, as if longing for someone.
He often used his old phone to text someone.
Could he be contacting Akari? Miyu wondered.
Does this mean Chen Tian's unrequited love will ultimately end in heartbreak?
Because this chapter was told from Chen Tian's perspective, the initial atmosphere of loneliness and sorrow wasn't immediately apparent.
But as the "Cosmonaut" chapter progressed into its second half, the narrative perspective shifted to Takaki's point of view.
He and Akari had long since lost contact. The texts he sent to no one were merely a product of his loneliness; none of them were ever sent, and he couldn't even find a recipient.
Takaki and Akari were completely disconnected.
Miyu's heart jolted at this revelation. She glanced at Rei, whose expression remained calm. Noticing her gaze, he smiled at her.
Hey, Rei, what's with this development?
In the first chapter, Takaki and Akari clearly loved each other deeply. How could they have lost contact in just a few years?
Can a mere few hundred kilometers truly separate two people who genuinely love each other?