About “Banana Fish” in a few words:

Banana Fish is an anime series that follows the story of Ash Lynx, a young and handsome gang leader in New York City’s underworld, and Eiji Okumura, a Japanese photographer. The two become unlikely allies as they uncover the dark secrets behind a mysterious drug called “Banana Fish.” As they navigate their way through the dangerous world of organized crime and political corruption, they form a strong bond that is both heartwarming and heart-wrenching. The series is known for its intense action, complex characters, and thought-provoking themes.

Meet the characters from Banana Fish

Eiji Okumura

Oh man, Eiji is just this huge soft core of honesty and light — like he walks into a room and somehow all the shadows get uncomfortable. He’s a photographer, sweet and a little bewildered by violence, but quietly brave in a way that sneaks up on you; also he keeps snacks in his pockets (or was it postcards? I forget). He trusts people too easily and then stares at them like he’s trying to figure out how a clock works, which is adorably dangerous. There’s something almost impossibly pure about him, but don’t think he’s fragile — he’s stubborn in this gentle, surprising way that sticks with you.

Shunichi Ibe

Ibe is one of those friends who is loud, practical, and somehow always on the wrong side of fashion but in a cool way — he’s reliable, scrappy, a bit of a worrier, and you can hear him pacing three streets away. He works the photo scene and is good at fixing things, both gear and feelings, though sometimes he over-apologizes like he caused a storm. He’s quick with a joke and slower to open up, but that’s part of his charm — also he has this weirdly specific taste in canned coffee, which I love for him. He’s the kind of person who would bail you out at 2 a.m. and then dramatize the whole rescue like it was a cinephile moment.

Max Lobo

Max is grizzled and furious and also the most human beacon of stubborn integrity — ex-cop turned reporter, scars and all, he refuses to let things slide even when everyone else looks away. He swears a lot (probably), smokes when he’s thinking, and has this tired father-hero energy where he’s equal parts protective and catastrophically direct. He’ll yell at you and then somehow bring soup, like a grumpy saint, and he definitely hoards old case files and, I swear, a battered harmonica. He’s the one who remembers names and faces and refuses to let injustice become background noise.

Lao Yuen-Tai

Lao is cool, intimidating in a low-key way, the kind of calm storm leader who prefers a whisper to a shout but will make you regret breathing wrong. He runs things with a folded-glove efficiency and a soft spot for honors, traditions, or maybe orchids — I can’t decide which, but he definitely has one of those little contradictions where he’s ruthless in business but humbly sentimental in private. His loyalty is terrifyingly absolute, and he keeps lists — of favors, of debts, of people he owes. He’s elegant and dangerous and probably knows more about your childhood than you do.

Yut-Lung

Yut-Lung is brilliant and terrifying and has that cold, calculating aristocratic vibe — like chess, but with people, and he always seems five moves ahead even when he’s smiling. He’s elegant, pettily cruel sometimes, and honestly kinda magnetic in the worst way; you want to look away but also can’t. Multilingual, impeccably dressed (or not — maybe he likes ripped sweaters? who knows), and who knows if he collects teacups or poisons; it’s maybe both. There’s a sickness to his charm that’s fascinating and awful, and he enjoys being in control with a soft caress.

Jessica Randy

Jessica is sharp, glamorous in a tired-journalist way, and full of contradictions — ambitious, warm sometimes, and a little too curious for her own good. She’s part insider, part troublemaker, loves a good headline and even better gossip, and probably owns more hats than is reasonable. She can be ruthless when the story matters but will also cry at the dumbest movies, which is the best kind of messy. Honestly, she’s the kind of person who’d bring you coffee and then steal your notes, and you’d forgive her because she’s that compelling.

Frederick Arthur

Frederick is prim, like someone who drinks tea at three and has European politeness wired into his bones, yet he’s got a cold, bureaucratic efficiency that can squash you without a raised eyebrow. He’s the clean, clinical kind of antagonist — smiles a lot, keeps things tidy, and probably organizes his regrets in alphabetical order (or maybe by date, I can’t remember). There’s a quiet menace underneath the manners, and he loves order so much he’d alphabetize feelings if he could. Slightly theatrical at odd times, and possibly owns a pocket watch he never uses.

Sing Su-Rin

Sing is sharp, fierce, and mostly all business — a street-smart force with a soft corner that she guards with barbed wire and sarcasm. She’s quick to act, quicker with a comeback, and yet there are these tiny moments where she’s almost tender (like petting strays she definitely swore she wouldn’t adopt). She doesn’t do long monologues, prefers getting things done, and has a laugh that sounds like glass breaking beautifully. Honestly, she’s the friend you want when everything’s falling apart and probably has a secret stash of gummy candy for emergencies.

Shorter Wong

Shorter is pure, wonderfully loud loyalty; he’s the comic relief who somehow keeps breaking your heart in the best way because his devotion is earnest and ridiculous. He talks fast, moves faster, and has the most dramatic sneer when he’s fed up — but he’s also soft as a marshmallow for his crew (and their pets). He’s impulsive and brave to the point of being reckless, but the kind of person who’d throw himself into trouble to save a friend and then complain the whole way. Also, he chews gum like it’s a personality trait and probably names pigeons in his spare time.

Ash Lynx

Ash is wildfire and silk, the most electric, dangerous, tragic thing — brilliant, violent, heartbreakingly young and somehow impossibly composed when everything else is on fire. He’s a tactical genius with a poet’s soul (don’t let that sound soft, he can gut you and write a letter about it later), fiercely protective of the few he lets close, and constantly battling ghosts that make him equal parts monster and guardian. There’s vanity and tenderness and a thousand complicated loyalties wrapped in leather and scars, and he probably collects matchbooks or old vinyl or both, because of course. He’s the kind of character you root for and want to hug and also fear at the same time, which is maybe the point.