About “Kimi wa Houkago Insomnia” in a few words:

Kimi wa Houkago Insomnia also known as Insomniacs After School is an anime series that follows the story of two high school students, Ganta Nakami and Isaki Magari, who bond over their shared struggle with insomnia. The series explores themes of friendship, self-discovery, and the importance of finding solace in unexpected places.

Meet the characters from Kimi wa Houkago Insomnia

Isaki Magari

Isaki Magari is the kind of sleepy-eyed protagonist who notices everything everyone else misses, and yes, he actually functions on three hours of sleep like it’s a secret superpower. He’s low-key sarcastic, observant, and oddly tender — in a will-not-admit-it way — and somehow he makes sleepy stares feel like a personality trait. He spends a lot of time wandering after school (or at least, that’s the vibe), scribbling tiny diagrams in the margins of textbooks and muttering to himself when he thinks no one is listening. He claims to hate attachment but keeps one ridiculous, beaten-up keychain that he refuses to let go of — don’t ask why, I tried.

Ganta Nakami

Ganta Nakami is the warm, frantic pulse of the group — like a human energy drink with feelings. He talks fast, gestures faster, and probably has three different plans for dinner at any given time; comforting, chaotic, annoyingly reliable. Also weirdly practical: fixes broken things, gives pep talks, borrows your hoodie and will never, ever return it (or maybe he will, who knows). He worries a lot under the surface — like, makes lists at midnight kind of worry — but it’s the kind of worry that turns into action, so it’s okay-ish.

Usako Kurashiki

Usako Kurashiki comes off like a whisper at a crowded party — soft, a little enigmatic, and somehow you’ll find yourself leaning in to listen. She’s secretly fierce though? Like, don’t push the gentle ones, because she has a stubborn streak the size of a moon. She collects odd little things (buttons, ticket stubs, tiny paper cranes — the list grows) and will either give them all away in a flurry of kindness or hoard them under her pillow, I can’t keep track. There’s a melancholy to her that’s not tragic, more like weather you learn to dress for; she notices the sky’s moods and makes tea accordingly.

Yui Shiromaru

Yui Shiromaru is like someone built a responsible older sibling out of sunshine and precise spreadsheets. She organizes everything — schedules, feelings, the emergency snack drawer — but will also impulsively adopt stray plants at 2 a.m. because ethics (or because the plants looked sad, same thing). She’s funny in that dry, lethal way; you laugh and then suddenly feel motivated to clean your life, which is disconcerting but effective. Sometimes she paradoxically craves chaos — movie marathons at odd hours, spontaneous road trips — which makes her both predictable and unpredictable, don’t ask me how this works.