As June arrived, the weather grew even hotter, mirroring the feverish excitement in Japan's manga industry.
While the Six Major Magazines dominated the market with their unparalleled popularity, smaller- and medium-sized publications still held promise. The market's tastes were endlessly diverse.
The Six Major Magazines, focused primarily on commercial success and catering to the popular shōnen battle manga genre, featured relatively few romance stories. This created an opportunity for romance-focused weekly magazines like Sakura Weekly to thrive.
Although Sakura Weekly was only distributed in a few prefectures surrounding Tokyo and sold around 800,000 copies per issue, its regional recognition rivaled that of the Six Major Magazines.
For their upcoming manga serialization, officially launching next week on the 13th, Sakura Weekly had already begun promoting the two new series in this week's issue, released on the 6th.
The highlight was the full-color cover illustrations created by Rei Kirishima and Yuto Amamiya for their respective series.
The cover depicted a scene beside the train tracks: a girl in a knee-length skirt, smiling under an umbrella, gazed at a boy panting from running downhill. Cherry blossoms drifted across the sky, radiating youthful energy. The bold title "5 Centimeters Per Second" was harmoniously integrated into the illustration.
The promotional slogan on the full-color page read:
Do you know what 5 centimeters per second represents?
The cover of Love Blooms Like Fireworks featured a group illustration of all the main characters, its art style immediately recognizable as a school romance.
Among Sakura Weekly's devoted fans in the Tokyo region, the promotional pages at the end of the latest issue sparked lively discussion on the magazine's official forum.
"5 Centimeters Per Second—what a strange manga title. After Love After School got axed, are these two series taking its place? The author is Shirogane... never heard of him. A rookie mangaka? But the art style is amazing—soft, youthful, and totally my type!"
"And Love Blooms Like Fireworks is Amamiya-sensei's first new work in a year! If you're a fan of Amamiya-sensei, remember to vote for this manga after reading it! We can't let it lose to some newcomer's series!"
"Sakura Weekly is going downhill. This year's new series are all so boring. The only one I can still read is Tale of Sorrow, which started last year, but even that's nearing its end. Can the editor-in-chief please bring in some fresh, original works? Otherwise, I'll have nothing good to read anymore!"
"After reading so many school romance manga, they all start to feel the same."
"5 Centimeters Per Second doesn't really seem like a typical school romance manga. The main characters aren't even wearing school uniforms, and they're crossing city train tracks. It has such a nostalgic feel—it must be one of those old-fashioned romance manga."
"Just based on the art style, I'll check it out next week. Hopefully, it'll surprise me."
"Why was Sound of the Clouds allowed to continue while Love After School got axed? I can't accept it! The latter was clearly so much better."
"The latest volume of Sound of the Clouds sold 20,000 copies in its first week, but Love After School didn't even reach 10,000. Plus, it's been at the bottom of the rankings for six consecutive weeks. Stop trying to defend it."
In the vast manga market, the serialization of two new series was a minor event. The discussions among hardcore manga fans quickly faded into the overwhelming flood of information on online forums.
Apart from Rei Kirishima, the manga artist directly involved, most loyal readers of Sakura Weekly remained skeptical about 5 Centimeters Per Second.
There was some anticipation, but nothing particularly strong.
Another week passed quickly.
At dawn on Wednesday, the latest issue of Sakura Weekly manga magazine was prominently displayed in bookstores across Tokyo and neighboring prefectures.
Priced at 13 yen, this thick volume featured serialized installments of 18 manga series.
With each chapter exceeding 20 pages, the combined length of over a dozen series approached 400 pages, making the magazine over 200 sheets thick.
For busy office workers with limited free time, finishing the entire volume within a week might be a challenge.
However, Kana Uehara, who had been heartbroken two weeks prior and resigned from her job last week due to the emotional strain, was an exception. Still reeling from the shock, she showed no signs of recovery.
For her, only good food and manga could soothe the pain of heartbreak.
Especially the romance manga in Sakura Weekly, which served as her mental recharge during this difficult time.
Dressed smartly and efficiently early in the morning, Kana arrived at the bookstore to find a surprisingly large crowd already there.
She headed straight for the Sakura Weekly single-volume display.
Her eyes fell upon the thick, plastic-wrapped manga volume, its cover dominated by characters from two series.
On the left, a railway track amidst fluttering cherry blossoms framed a boy and girl standing face-to-face.
On the right, a sharply drawn school scene featured distinct character designs.
"I hope these two manga are interesting."
Kana Uehara took a deep breath, paid for the manga magazine at the counter, and immediately turned left out the door to a nearby café. She ordered a coffee and a slice of cake for breakfast, then went upstairs to her favorite corner seat by the window. There, she tore open the plastic wrap of the latest issue of Sakura Weekly.
She flipped through the table of contents to the first page of the manga section, which featured her favorite romantic comedy series in the magazine.
High Score Romance
This series had topped the reader polls for eighteen consecutive weeks in Sakura Weekly, making it the fifth serialized manga by the popular artist Yuta Shiba.
Currently, it was the flagship manga of Sakura Weekly.
Of course, any romance manga eventually faces the same problem: dwindling appeal.
The chapters following the male and female leads' successful confession and start of their relationship are the most difficult to write and the least engaging.
After spending ten minutes reading the latest chapter, Kana felt slightly disappointed.
It wasn't that it was bad, but it wasn't as good as she'd hoped. The youthful spark was gone.
Kana Uehara immediately flipped to the Tale of Sorrow, a manga created by Saki, a prodigy high school artist.
Another immersive reading session followed. After a long while, Kana finally exhaled softly.
Unlike High Score Romance, which had dragged on with filler content in its later chapters, Tale of Sorrow maintained a brisk pace and avoided unnecessary padding. The reading experience was noticeably superior.
Only then did Kana turn her attention to the newly serialized manga in this issue.
"5 Centimeters Per Second, huh?" she murmured.
Drawn by the art style, she flipped through the table of contents to find the serialization page for 5 Centimeters Per Second.
The opening spread featured a full-color illustration of cherry blossoms falling, accompanied by narration:
Did you know? They say it's 5 centimeters per second.
What?
The speed at which cherry blossoms fall—5 centimeters per second.
This...
Is that... hitting the theme at light speed?
Kana sipped her coffee, her interest piqued.
Such manga dialogue often lacked concrete meaning, offering no real insight into the plot. Yet the words flowed smoothly, carrying a poetic rhythm.
The author must be a woman with a delicate sensibility.
Hey, don't you think it's like watching snow fall?
In the manga, a girl holds out her hand, letting cherry blossoms drift through her fingers.
Ah, yes, exactly the kind of nonsensical dialogue I love. Kana thought.
Some might find the opening lines of 5 Centimeters Per Second baffling.
But for someone like Kana Uehara, she adored them.
The girl sprints down a slope, the boy chasing desperately behind. Just as she crosses the train tracks, the safety barriers slam down, trapping them on opposite sides.
The tracks become a dividing line between their worlds, separating them. Akari, the girl, opens her red umbrella, shielding herself from the falling cherry blossoms. She smiles at the boy across the tracks, her smile more radiant than the cherry blossoms themselves.
I hope we can watch the cherry blossoms together again next year.
The same scene, but with different artwork and panel layouts, evokes a completely different feeling in the reader.
Rei Kirishima's manga art still had room for improvement, but after his soul fusion, his ability to convey character emotions in his manga drafts was absolutely top-tier.
The lines in his manga drafts were deceptively simple, yet Kana, who knew nothing of the story's future, found herself feeling a pang of sadness at this scene.
For some reason, the sight of the two young figures smiling at each other across the train tracks filled her with sadness.
To help readers understand the timeline, Rei Kirishima would occasionally reveal it within the manga panels.
The manga's art style quickly shifted from vibrant color pages to stark black and white, intensifying the sense of melancholy.
The story then transitioned into Akari's inner monologue, expressed through letters she wrote to Takaki.
Thinking back, I even miss Tokyo's sweltering summers—the asphalt roads that seemed to melt under the heat. Our last meeting was at the graduation ceremony. Takaki, do you still remember me?
[To Takaki, Thank you so much for your reply. Autumn has arrived; I wore my sweater for the first time two days ago.]
These brief panels, paired with Akari's heartfelt words and the increasingly lonely expression on Takaki's face, quickly made Kana Uehara realize that the boy and girl who had promised to see the cherry blossoms together next year hadn't seen each other for a year since Akari transferred schools.
They exchanged letters, sharing their recent experiences.
Their longing for each other grew stronger with each letter. Though initially separated by only a few hundred kilometers, the distance would soon widen as Takaki prepared to transfer schools as well, leaving them even further apart.
The distance between them would soon stretch to over a thousand kilometers, no longer a matter of simply meeting up again.
And so, before Takaki transferred schools, they finally decided to see each other one last time.
There's a huge cherry blossom tree near my house. When spring comes, its petals fall at a rate of five centimeters per second. I wish you could be here with me, Takaki, when spring arrives. - Akari
The plot progressed slowly, but paired with the exquisitely detailed and distinctive background art, Kana Uehara felt her heart ache as she gazed at the manga panel of Akari sitting alone on a chair, writing a letter.
Only a single bird flew across the sky, and she was the only figure in the sunset-lit town.
Kana had already immersed herself in the story, deeply feeling the manga's melancholic tone.
The two, longing for each other, arranged a time to meet.
Takaki would take a train, while Akari would wait for him at the agreed-upon station at seven o'clock.
The manga didn't explicitly state it, but Kana sensed that the urgency of their meeting stemmed from a shared realization:
If they didn't meet one last time, they might never see each other again in their lives.
The distance of over a thousand kilometers was an insurmountable chasm.
A distance that would despair even adults, let alone two middle school students.
"Is this the style of manga?"
Kana Uehara finally snapped out of her reverie.
To be honest, she had never read manga with this kind of style before.
Rather than resembling manga, it felt more like prose literature. The plot was simple: two young lovers separated by distance hoped to meet one last time before the boy transferred even further away.
But the emotional depth and complexity of the characters were exquisitely portrayed. She found herself completely immersed in their inner worlds.
As she continued reading, the art style suddenly shifted.
The story began to unfold in reverse, recounting how Akari and Takaki first met, how they became friends amidst the pranks and ostracism of their classmates, and how they discovered their nearly identical interests and hobbies.
They had promised to attend the same middle school together.
However, everything shattered when Akari was forced to transfer schools by her family.
That night, Akari called Takaki to tell him she was leaving the city soon.
At that moment, Akari must have been hoping for Takaki's comfort, hoping to see him one last time before she left.
But Takaki, lost in his own sorrow, couldn't bring himself to do any of that. He simply said to her in a low voice,
Enough. Don't say any more.
Seeing this, Kana Uehara was furious.
How could he be so cruel?!
Akari had no choice but to transfer schools because her family forced her. She called to apologize, and all she got in return was that one cold sentence.
Kana was seething with anger, yet she couldn't stop reading.
The flashback ended quickly, and a year later, Takaki boarded a train to Akari's new city.
However, a heavy snowfall disrupted his plans.
The train was delayed, forcing him to miss two transfers—a situation Takaki hadn't anticipated.
He had written a letter containing all the words he had longed to say to Akari over the past year, including an apology for what had happened. He planned to hand it to her personally when they met.
As Takaki waited for his connecting train, the letter he'd written to Akari slipped from his pocket due to a careless movement. The biting snow wind on the platform swept it high into the night sky, where it vanished into the darkness.
At that moment, the boy lowered his head, tears welling in the corners of his eyes on the train platform.
It wasn't just because he'd lost the letter to Akari.
It was because he was already late.
The time he'd promised Akari—7 p.m.—had already passed.
Kana Uehara scrolled further, but found nothing more.
The first chapter of the 5 Centimeters Per Second manga ended there.
A heavy feeling settled in her chest, the discomfort of the abruptly cut-off story washing over her.
"Why do manga artists always do this? What's the point of ending it at such a crucial moment?"
Was Akari still waiting for Takaki?
If she wasn't, Takaki would soon be leaving for a city hundreds of miles away to study.
Could this train delay mean they would never see each other again?
The thought made Kana feel terrible.
A familiar ache began to stir in her heart, like the pain she'd felt after her own heartbreak.
What's with this manga?
How could just the first chapter make me feel so sad?
This story is so immersive... Is this really the work of a rookie manga artist?