There are certain anime that mark you, not just because they were good or enjoyable, but because they caught you off guard and left you with a feeling you didn’t quite know how to process at the time. For me, that anime was Chrono Crusade. And the feeling? Bittersweet devastation.
I was maybe fifteen, maybe sixteen, somewhere in that space between childhood and knowing better. My nana was house-sitting at her sister’s place, and I spent a lot of time there. It wasn’t anything fancy, but what it had—what I had—was gold: a DSTV decoder with recording capabilities and access to ANIMAX. This was before streaming took over, and if you were an anime fan in South Africa, you made do with what you had. For me, that meant setting up a rotation system: record an anime season, binge it through the night, delete it to make space, and move on to the next one.
I’d stay up until 4 am watching anime, then wake up at 7 am to get ready for school, arrive at 7:30, and do it all again. It wasn’t healthy, but it was magical in its own way. A quiet determination and pathlaying for genuine friendships and a lifelong path.
One night, one of the last during that house-sitting stretch, I chose Chrono Crusade. I didn’t know much about it going in. Just that it had a nun with a gun and some demonic action. Seemed cool. I started watching around midnight. By the time it was 3 am, I was too far in to stop. I had to see how it ended. And I did.
And it broke me.
No dramatic twist. No sudden tragedy. Just Rosette and Chrono, together, quietly waiting as time ran out. There was no shouting. No explosion. Just two people sitting in a room, smiling as the sun went down, knowing full well what was coming.
It left me reeling. I remember sitting there, blinking at the credits, unsure what I had just experienced. It wasn’t a sad ending in the traditional sense. It wasn’t the kind of grief you get from a character dying suddenly or a romance falling apart. It was something quieter. Something that clung to you.
I went to school the next morning in a total haze, and not just thanks to sleep deprivation. The usual rhythm of assembly, classroom chatter, and morning lessons felt hollow and uninspiring. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. That feeling stuck with me, not just for a few days, but for years. It’s been over a decade, and that ending still echoes in my mind.
Looking back now, I realise Chrono Crusade was my first real encounter with a bittersweet ending, the kind where hope and sadness hold hands. It wasn’t a clean, triumphant resolution. It didn’t leave me devastated either. It left me thoughtful. Mournful. Changed.
And that, I think, is the real power of anime at its best. It finds you in your quietest hours, at 3 am, halfway through a binge, curled up in a blanket, and it teaches you how to feel something deeper than just “happy” or “sad.” It teaches you to sit with the in-between. Chrono Crusade wasn’t just another anime I watched. It was the one that taught me what animated stories could do.
Do You Remember Your First Bittersweet Ending?
Everyone has one, the anime that lingered. The one that felt like a goodbye you weren’t ready for. Whether it was Clannad: After Story, AnoHana, Your Lie in April, or something smaller and more obscure, I’d love to hear what hit you first.
Tell me your story.
Let’s collect these moments together.
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