About “Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day” in a few words:

Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day is a touching anime series that tells the story of a group of childhood friends who reunite after years apart to grant the wish of their deceased friend, Menma. As they work together to uncover buried feelings and secrets, they must also come to terms with their own guilt and regrets. With beautiful animation and a poignant storyline, Anohana explores themes of friendship, loss, and the power of forgiveness.

Meet the characters from Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day

Jinta “Jintan” Yadomi

Jintan is that painfully relatable mess of a former kid-king turned hermit, the quiet center everyone keeps orbiting around even when he pretends to be asleep on the couch. He’s endlessly guilty and clumsy with feelings — will overthink a single hello for days, then suddenly do something brave and make you forget he ever panicked — classic contradiction, right? He hoards old memories like if you step on one they’ll shatter, and yet he can be unexpectedly childish (snacks at 2 a.m., seriously). Also, low-key a leader who’d rather curl up in a hoodie and read old notes than talk strategy, but give him one song or one promise and he’ll move mountains, or at least awkwardly try.

Meiko “Menma” Honma

Menma is sunshine with a ghostly twist — impossibly earnest, endlessly forgiving, and somehow both fragile and stubborn as a weed; she’s the heart that refuses to stop beating even when everyone else has moved on. She bursts into scenes with this soft, silly optimism (also she loves making funny little requests and sometimes forgets the obvious, like polite boundaries), and yet her presence peels back layers of guilt and love in everyone, which is kind of terrifying if you think about it. She’s sweet and a little scatterbrained — yeah she might forget a name, then remember it perfectly in the worst possible moment — but she has this fierce need to fix things that will absolutely wreck you with feels. Tiny details: she likes making paper dolls, possibly eats too many sweets, and sometimes hums a tune that sticks in your head forever.

Naruko “Anaru” Anjo

Anaru is the salon-buzz of drama and realness, all eye-rolls and lipstick but secretly a soft, anxious storm, the kind of friend who hides fear behind sarcasm and coffee. She can be petty and jealous and then two minutes later so caring you’d forget she just threw shade — human contradictions are her aesthetic. Ambitious and insecure at the same time, she wants to be seen and worries she’s not enough, yet she fights like crazy for the people she loves (also oddly into small, useless trivia about movies). She’s a survivor and occasionally a gossip; sometimes she flips between being hilariously blunt and painfully vulnerable so fast it’s almost a party trick.

Atsumu “Yukiatsu” Matsuyuki

Yukiatsu is polished, prickly, and a little dangerous with that smile that says he’s plotting something — seriously, he tries so hard to be perfect it becomes its own kind of ache. He’s smug and controlling on the surface (piano-practicing, posture-perfect, collecting postcards? maybe), but underneath there’s this raw, messy longing and jealousy that makes him do weird, kind of cruel things — and then immediately regret them; he is contradiction central. He obsesses over appearances and the past in equal measure, like he’s arranging every memory into a display case and then sneaks back at night to stare at it. Also sometimes he’s almost too dramatic about tiny slights, but then he’ll surprise you with this weirdly tender, loyal moment that breaks the whole façade.

Chiriko “Tsuruko” Tsurumi

Tsuruko is the stoic encyclopedia of the group — calm, measured, analytical — but don’t let that fool you, she has a private soft-core fanclub for feelings she refuses to name. She observes everything, files it away, and will correct your facts with a straight face (annoying? yes, but also kind of lovable), and she’s fiercely rational except when her heart betrays her, which it does occasionally and horrifically. She’s loyal to a fault and quietly brave, the person who remembers the things everyone else forgot, though she’ll never admit it out loud (tiny lie: she owns a plush she says is “for research”). Also, she seems composed but sometimes you catch a blink and see the nervous kid she was — small cracks, big empathy.

Tetsudo “Poppo” Hisakawa

Poppo is bonfire energy: loud, sunburnt, always smiling like travel photos and regrettable tattoos (okay maybe not tattoos, but he’d consider it), he left the nest and came back with stories and a weirdly deep capacity for forgiveness. He’s goofy and extroverted but also carries survivor-guilt and a softness about the past that sneaks up on you; he’ll crack jokes and then, five minutes later, stare at the sky as if apologizing to it. He remembers birthdays and bad puns but will forget your name and then apologize with a sandwich — practical! Poppo’s optimism is infectious and a tiny bit reckless, and he’s the friend who will push you out the door and follow you wherever you run.