About “Banana Fish” in a few words:

Banana Fish is a gripping anime series based on the manga of the same name by Akimi Yoshida. The story follows Ash Lynx, a young gang leader in New York City, who embarks on a dangerous journey to uncover the truth behind a mysterious drug called “banana fish.” Along the way, he meets Eiji Okumura, a Japanese photographer who becomes his ally and friend. Together, they navigate the dark underworld of the city, fighting off enemies and trying to uncover the truth behind the drug’s origin and its connection to Ash’s traumatic past.

Meet the characters from Banana Fish

Eiji Okumura

Eiji is this bright-eyed, soft-spoken photographer who somehow manages to make ordinary things feel sacred — you can practically hear him say “wow” at a sunset. He’s gentle to a fault, allergic to violence in theory but stubborn in practice (will quietly refuse to leave someone’s side, even if it’s unwise). He’s the moral compass and naive heart of the group, always sketching the world in small, careful ways — also collects postcards and maybe snacks more than he admits. There’s this weirdly fierce bravery under the sweetness that pops up at the worst possible moments, which is why everyone loves him and also worries about him.

Shunichi Ibe

Shunichi is the kind of calm, steady figure you trust before you know why; dependable, low-key, a planner who likes spreadsheets in his head. He seems quietly serious — like he drinks his tea with purpose — but has this dry, deadpan humor that sneaks out at 2 a.m. when things are falling apart. He’s practical and loyal, the “okay, here’s how we fix it” person, though sometimes he surprises you by being oddly sentimental (sings karaoke off-key, don’t ask). He’s not flashy, but he’s the glue, the one who remembers birthdays and also remembers the little betrayals.

Max Lobo

Max is gruff, tired, and impossibly stubborn in a way that makes you want to both hug him and hand him a coffee. Former cop energy turned hard-bitten journalist — loves a good story, hates injustice, smokes too much and defends the underdog like it’s his religion. He can be loud and paternal at once, full of practical advice and bad jokes, and somehow still manages to have a soft spot for reckless kids (don’t tell him I said that). He’s protective and fierce, morally messy but honest, like an old dog who’ll bite anyone threatening the ones he cares about.

Lao Yuen-Tai

Lao Yuen-Tai has this calm, ancient vibe — measured, elegant, like someone who waters bonsai while plotting a takeover (maybe both). He’s cultured and inscrutable, quotes poetry and then gives out cold orders with the same gentleness, which makes him kind of terrifying if you think about it too long. He enjoys small rituals — tea ceremonies, folding things neatly — but he’s cold-blooded when he needs to be, ruthless behind a composed smile. There’s a weird tenderness for certain people that peeks out occasionally, usually in a way that contradicts everything else he’s done.

Yut-Lung

Yut-Lung is the icy, brilliant prince of chaos: elegant, cruel, unbelievably smart, and always three steps ahead in a way that makes your skin crawl. He’s obsessed with control, collects trinkets (insects, watches, whatever keeps his hands busy), and speaks like he’s reading a play even when he’s genuinely angry. There’s a spoiled, petulant streak — he’ll throw a fit about tea being the wrong temperature and then charm you into cleaning it up — and somehow he’s allergic to the things he hoards (I’m sure that’s symbolic). He’s equal parts cultured menace and weirdly sentimental about small, private trophies, which is the worst combo.

Jessica Randy

Jessica is loud, stylish, and the kind of person who bursts into a room and makes it feel like a party whether you wanted one or not. She’s quick with gossip and quicker with a sly grin, dramatic as all get-out but with a real soft center that shows up in the smallest, inconvenient moments. She’ll fight for her people and then immediately text a meme five minutes later, which is both comforting and confusing. Honestly she’s a walking contradiction — high heels and a heart of gold — and that’s why she’s oddly disarming.

Frederick Arthur

Frederick Arthur feels like an old-school gentleman dropped into a very tired modern mess — polished, proper, slightly aloof, and oddly sentimental about classical music. He’s reserved, speaks carefully, and has that “I read the book twice” attention to detail, but also has a terrible sweet tooth he hides behind diplomatic smiles. He’s the kind of person who writes letters and loses them, who drinks Scotch and hums to himself while solving puzzles nobody else notices. He can be stiff and then, out of nowhere, unexpectedly kind in a way that makes you forgive a lot.

Sing Su-Rin

Sing Su-Rin is sharp, mysterious, and moves like someone who’s always listening for the right moment to strike — but also might stop to feed a stray dog, which is somehow both adorable and suspicious. She’s efficient, a little secretive, and knows how to read a room (and people’s weak spots) like a book, though she hums lullabies when she thinks no one’s watching. There’s a performative coolness to her, but cracks appear if you catch her on a bad day — she’s not all ice, more like ceramic with a deliberate chip. She’s dangerous, sweet occasionally, and unpredictable in delightfully unsettling ways.

Shorter Wong

Shorter Wong is all scrappy loyalty and quick fists, the kind of friend who will steal you a sandwich and then fight for your life without asking. He’s loud, funny, unreliable in the best possible way (keeps you guessing), but has this unwavering devotion that makes him surprisingly dependable when it counts. He talks fast, eats faster, and hoards tiny trinkets — matchbooks, receipts, I swear — like trophies. He’s small but enormous in personality, and somehow the heart of the rougher moments.

Ash Lynx

Ash is brilliant, dangerous, and heartbreakingly young all at once — a razor-sharp leader with a tortured core, charismatic enough to make you follow him into nonsense and terrifying enough to make you obey. He’s a survivalist genius who can plan a heist and then write a love letter in the same breath, and he hides a real tenderness under layers of sarcasm and fury. He hates being vulnerable but gets ridiculously protective over the few people he lets in, clumsy with affection in a way that ruins you if you’re attached. He’s violent and poetic, cold and deeply feeling, and somehow both fragile and frighteningly competent — the kind of person you root for and fear at the same time.