About “To Your Eternity” in a few words:

To Your Eternity is an anime series based on the manga of the same name by Yoshitoki Oima. The series follows the journey of an immortal being named Fushi, who is tasked with learning about the world and its inhabitants. Along the way, Fushi encounters various individuals, each with their own unique stories and struggles, and learns what it truly means to be human. With beautiful animation and a compelling storyline, To Your Eternity has captivated audiences worldwide.

Meet the characters from To Your Eternity

Fushi

Oh man, Fushi is the heart-shaped chaos machine of the story, literally learning everything like it’s a hobby and occasionally forgetting basic human social cues — adorably awkward, you know? He absorbs forms and memories and then awkwardly tries to be a person, which is both heartbreaking and kind of hilarious at times. There’s this childlike curiosity that makes him pick up rocks, smile at sunsets, and then try to figure out adult conversations like a puzzle he can’t quite fit. Also, he will loyal-slam you into protecting people and then stand there eating food he found while contemplating existence, which is both heroic and mildly inconvenient.

March

March is this painfully brave, stubborn little force of nature who refuses to just be a background character, ever — she’s fragile and fierce in the same breath. She grits her teeth and keeps going even when it’s obvious things are bleak, and you absolutely feel every scar and laugh line she earns. She has this soft, secret habit of humming to soothe herself, which is equal parts sad and uplifting, plus she insists she doesn’t like sweet things but will steal pastries in the quiet. The way she holds onto hope is almost annoyingly inspirational, in the best possible way.

Parona

Parona is the kind of person who screams optimism so loudly you can’t help but believe her, even when she’s clearly winging it, which she totally is, secretly. She’s a healer of people and vibes — bubbly, messy, brave, with a backstory that will make you reach for tissues and then throw them away because she’ll be fine, promise. She collects small ridiculous trinkets like a button or a broken spoon and names them all, maybe creeps you out a little but also makes you laugh. There’s a fierce protectiveness wrapped in sugar and glitter, and she will absolutely go berserk if someone hurts her friends, which is delightful and terrifying.

Pioran

Pioran is the grumpy grandma archetype but somehow sharper than most swords — delightfully cantankerous, hilariously blunt, and deeply, stubbornly kind. She has this whole “don’t pity me” vibe while simultaneously feeding anyone in a fifty-foot radius and scoffing at your feelings, but in a warm way. Her past is a tapestry of loss and survival and she drops these tiny wisdom bombs at random, like someone who’s lived a thousand lifetimes and kept the receipts. Also, she kinks her neck when thinking, which makes her look extra fierce, and she’s not above stealing the last piece of bread.

Hayase

Hayase is cool in that quiet, watchful way — like a calm tide that could swallow you if it wanted, but usually just offers a hand instead. He’s fiercely loyal and more observant than he lets on, peppered with a dry sense of humor that sneaks up on you. There’s a tangible melancholy about him, like he’s carrying a map of regrets but still shows up for people, and he has this weird thing for organizing little things on a table just so, which is oddly soothing. He’s someone who makes decisions with a very heavy exhale and then sticks by them, even if he second-guesses at 2 a.m. sometimes.

The Beholder

Okay, the Beholder is nightmare fuel wrapped in tragic mystique — cold, alien, and so, so patient, like a storm that learned how to read faces. Its presence is more a feeling than a figure; you can sense it manipulating and reflecting back humanity in the worst ways, and it’s unsettlingly elegant. It’s the kind of villain that makes you pity it a little and then immediately regret the empathy because it will absolutely ruin everything if you blink. Also, rumor has it it likes watching people argue, which is both terrifying and oddly specific.

Gugu

Gugu is this towering mountain of loyalty and sorrow, a gentle giant who would bench-press the world for the people he loves and then quietly cry into a scarf about it. He’s so big and soft and cursed with a past that’s brutal, yet he still finds room to be tender — yes, tender, don’t argue with me. He’s the unofficial family guardian who will give you a piggyback ride and then tell you a sad folk song to sleep. Sometimes he’s gruff, sometimes he’s goofy, and somehow both fit him perfectly.

Rean

Rean has this fierce, focused intensity like someone who’s always three steps ahead but keeps tripping over his shoelaces, charmingly. He’s principled to a fault, maybe a little rigid, but those rigid bits are what make him dependable when things go sideways. He does the whole “lead by doing” thing and will huff about responsibility while secretly loving the chaos of it, and he has a weird collection of tiny knives or stamps or something small and sentimental — I can’t remember. When he cares, he goes all-in, and that makes him quietly heroic.

Shin

Shin is sharp, ruthless, and somehow heartbreakingly human — like a blade with a soft spot hidden somewhere awkwardly under layers of sarcasm. He’s impulsive and loud and will make choices that make your stomach drop, but he’s also surprisingly tender in private, which is the weird contrast that slays me. He hoards grudges and regrets and maybe a weird fondness for spicy food, which explains his temper, possibly. There’s a raw edge to him that screams “danger” but also “protect me,” which is confusing and excellent.

Booze Man

Booze Man is this delightfully tragic comic relief who seems permanently two steps away from a bad decision and somehow still manages to be endearing. He drinks, he jokes, he flops onto a bench and gives unsolicited life advice that’s actually decent 30% of the time. Don’t let the slurred words fool you — there’s surprising depth buried beneath the hiccups, like he’s memorized the saddest parts of people’s stories and keeps them in an old coat pocket. He’s unreliable in the best way and will definitely show up late to save the day, with liquor breath and a grin.