The back copy does not lie with this one; The Girl I Saved on the Train Turned Out to Be My Childhood Friend is in fact “a frustratingly sweet, zero-stress romantic comedy.” It's also an excellent statement about how fluid Kennoji is as an author – this is their third English-language release and it couldn't be more different from both Hazure Skill and Drugstore in Another World: The Slow Life of a Cheat Pharmacist. Given that it's a rom-com, it does have a bit more in common with the latter title, but there's an innocent charm to this book that the other lacks. Simply put, this is self-aware enough not to be precious, yet comfortable enough with the tropes of the genre to be cozy reading, which, as it turns out, is a winning combination.

The story relies mostly on two staples of the genre: the dense hero and the friends-to-lovers romance trope. Ryou Takamine is our protagonist and narrator. A second-year in high school, he's most comfortable being a loner, although he's not completely averse to interacting with his peers; he really just comes off as someone who's more of an introvert. His main recharging time is lunch, and he eats in the physics room with one other person, a girl named Torigoe. They don't really interact much, both understanding that this is their quiet haven for a brief time. He's most ambivalent about his relationships with other students, and that goes for Hina as well. It doesn't necessarily matter to him that up until middle school they were good friends; she exploded into popularity at that point and he just sort of let her drift away from him. It never occurred to him that she might regret their change in relationship.

And it's clear (to us readers) that she really does. The moment she gets the opportunity, Hina comes charging back into Ryou's life. That he didn't realize he was giving her the opening she was waiting for is what establishes him as the oblivious romantic lead, but also as a generally good person – he saw a salaryman groping a girl on the train and, when no one else acted, confronted the man. He had no idea that the girl (whose face was hidden) was Hina; he would have done the same for anyone. If Hina knows that, she doesn't let it stop her, and immediately upon his arrival at school, she begins aggressively rekindling their friendship. That he's confused and perhaps not as enthused as she is barely dampens her determination.

Throughout the novel Ryou and other characters make comments about how she's essentially trying to live out the friends-to-lovers trope while simultaneously noting that this makes Ryou nothing like a threat to the other (popular) boys who are after Hina. It's one of the most self-aware and entertaining features of the story, because it fully acknowledges the familiar nature of its plot while also noting that the childhood friend almost always loses out to the new romantic interest in manga and light novels. (It's interesting to note that that's not necessarily a given in Western romance fiction, which may or may not be something Kennoji is aware of.) This goes back and forth between worrying Hina and making her feel more determined to break through Ryou's wall of emotional density; she's glad that she can get closer to him by playing the childhood friend card, but she is aware of the trope and is a bit afraid that it might be a real-life thing as well as a fictional one. That she's simultaneously unaware that Ryou's lack of emotional insight is just as much of a genre cliché feels like a bit of a wink from author to reader.

There are really only four characters in this book, which is a nice change from titles stuffed to the gills with named players. The fourth main character is Mana, Ryou's younger sister, and in many ways she outshines the rest of the cast. While there are a couple of hints that she may be one of those little sisters in rom-coms, for the most part she's just really dedicated to making sure that things work out for Ryou and Hina. This has one hilariously unfortunate result when she assumes that they must be ready to have sex and takes it upon herself to buy them protection (her reasoning being that it would be less embarrassing for her to buy condoms since she's an adherent of the gyaru style), but the real bright spot is that she never takes it too far. Her assumptions may be off, but she only has Ryou and Hina's best interests at heart, and that shines through no matter what she's doing. She is, however, responsible for the one issue I have with the translation, which I completely acknowledge is a cultural one: she calls Ryou “bubby,” which is Yiddish for “grandma,” albeit spelled “bubbe.” While this was presumably a way to get around the Japanese “nii-chan” or something similar and to avoid the sometimes awkward “bro,” it absolutely took me out of the story each time.

On the whole, however, The Girl I Saved on the Train Turned Out to Be My Childhood Friend is just a charmer of a light novel. The short chapters keep the story moving even though the plot isn't rife with action, and Fly's delicate illustrations fit the mood very well. It's a light, feel-good novel, and whether you're a fan of romantic comedies or just looking for something nice, I'd definitely recommend picking it up.