About “Erased: Boku dake ga Inai Machi” in a few words:

Erased: Boku dake ga Inai Machi is a Japanese manga series turned anime that follows the story of Satoru Fujinuma, a struggling manga artist who possesses the ability to go back in time. After a traumatic event, Satoru finds himself sent back 18 years to his childhood, where he must solve a series of murders in order to prevent the tragedy from happening again. Along the way, he meets a cast of intriguing characters, including Kayo Hinazuki, a girl in his class who becomes a crucial part of his mission.

Meet the characters from Erased: Boku dake ga Inai Machi

Satoru Fujinuma

Satoru is that flustered, stubborn hero who accidentally time-slips and refuses to let things stay broken. He’s equal parts dad-joke-level awkward and laser-focused when someone’s in danger — like, he’ll forget his own lunch but remember weird tiny details about a crime scene. He draws manga (or at least doodles a lot) and keeps a sketchbook he pretends is just “reference,” which may or may not be filled with dramatic faces. Sometimes he panics and runs in circles, sometimes he plans like a chess master; both are very much him.

Kayo Hinazuki

Kayo is the small, silent storm — quiet at school but with a volcano of feelings underneath, and the way she looks at things is kind of devastating, honestly. She collects little things, like broken stickers or maybe a marble (I think?), and she clings to tiny comforts even when she says she doesn’t want help. There’s this mix of old-world shyness and surprising stubbornness — like she can be terrified and unbelievably brave in the same paragraph. Also, for the record, she might secretly like sweets or she might be permanently lactose-intolerant? I always forget.

Airi Katagiri

Airi is sunshine wrapped in cardigan — calm, efficient, watches people like she’s cataloguing them for a very good reason. She’s the adult you want on your side: empathetic, practical, and low-key a detective in how she notices inconsistencies (also way more patient than me). She makes coffee with the kind of care that suggests she once read three self-help books and actually implemented chapter two. Sometimes she feels like the quiet moral compass, sometimes she’s just an awkward human with a really big heart and a weird mug collection.

Sachiko Fujinuma

Sachiko, Satoru’s mom, is fiercely loving with a dry, wry sense of humor — like she writes novels and raises her son and somehow still has time for sarcasm. She’s the anchor but also the human who makes questionable late-night snacks and swears she remembers everything, even the things she doesn’t; charmingly unreliable narrator energy. Tough when she has to be, soft when needed, and the kind of parent who hides her worry in sharp jokes (and maybe bad coffee). Also she’ll protect you with the ferocity of someone who once chased a raccoon out of her garden and won; don’t test that.

Jun Shiratori

Jun is the sort of guy who smiles too much in photos and has a lot of habits you notice later, like tapping his fingers when he’s thinking or carrying an extra umbrella “just in case.” He gives off this unfathomably casual vibe — friendly, a little slippery, like he could be your coworker or the person who borrows your stapler forever. There’s an odd quietness to him that flips between comforting and unsettling and then back again, which makes you keep paying attention. Honestly, I can’t decide if he collects stamps or hates them, but either way he’s memorably peculiar.

Kenya Kobayashi

Kenya is loud-hearted and brilliant in a low-key, detectivey way — obsessive about the truth, hates injustice, and will yell at authority if it means protecting a friend. Tall, kind of nerdy, he’s that friend who makes conspiracy whiteboards in his head (and maybe literally owns a magnifying glass? I feel like he does). He’s impulsive but loyal to the bone, and his anger is the kind that comes from pain, which makes him painfully human. Also: marshmallow-hater or marshmallow-lover? The debate continues.

Gaku Yashiro

Gaku is the textbook “too-smooth” teacher: polished smile, calm voice, ridiculously competent — and then the rug gets pulled in the worst way. He’s the kind of antagonist who makes you rethink every quiet moment he had, because he plays normal like a professional and it’s terrifying how comfortable that makes him. There’s a faintly clinical charm to him, like he organizes his pens by emotional impact, and then — boom — he proves why you should never trust the perfect guy. He drinks iced coffee with exactly three ice cubes and reads peaceful novels, supposedly, which is both unsettling and very on-brand.