"You really don't remember me, do you...?"

That's the last thing Tono Arata expects to hear from the blue-eyed British newcomer at his tiny seaside IT firm. But from the moment Lewis walks through the door--charming, blunt, and far too comfortable invading Arata's personal space--it's clear there's more to him than meets the eye.

Arata's peaceful routine is upended as he finds himself drawn to the enigmatic expat whose gaze lingers a little too long and whose presence feels oddly familiar. There's a shared past hiding just beneath the surface...one that Lewis remembers, and Arata has yet to uncover.

Far From Romance has story and art by Amamiya. English translation is done by Kat Skarbinec and lettering by Karis Page. Published by Seven Seas Entertainment (December 2, 2025). Rated M.

Rebecca Silverman
Rating:

Creator Amamiya, based on both this and the book of theirs I read in Italian (Bokura no Tsuzuki), specializes in soft, sweet BL works. And if that's not actually their specialty, it's at least something that they do a nice job with. Far From Romance is a workplace tale set in a tiny seaside town that taps into both the idea of a second chance with your one true love and a gentle look at something I think a lot of us have noticed in the anime sphere of late – productions based on real locations that inspire anime pilgrimages. In fact, that's how Lewis and Arata initially meet: Lewis is visiting Arata's rural port town because he loves an anime that was recently set there about an oyster from outer space trying to invade Earth. Yes, Amamiya seems to have their finger on the pulse of bizarre anime adaptations with this one.

The basic premise of the story is that years ago, Lewis and Arata met during Lewis' anime pilgrimage…and because of his long hair and delicate features (and youth), Arata thought he was a girl. They fell for each other, but Arata, at least, never expected to meet his erstwhile crush again. Lewis, on the other hand, knew this was True Love™ and studied Japanese feverishly so that he could return to Japan and the small town to find Arata again. Which, obviously, worked, to the tune of Lewis even joining Arata's company. The story first focuses on Arata realizing that Lewis and the “girl” are the same person, and then on the two of them getting together.

It's really very sweet, if a little underbaked. Some of the best scenes are Arata being utterly horrified at Lewis' lack of Japanese etiquette – he leaves a company drinking party before the boss, so that he can watch anime, he hugs people and kisses them on the cheek, he's just so aggressively western that Arata can't wrap his head around it. But when Lewis uses his European habits to yell to Arata's dad that his son's a great person, even though he disappointed his father by not going into the family oyster farming business, Arata recognizes that Lewis is just a good person with different cultural habits.

At only one volume, there really isn't quite enough space to fully develop the romance or the characters. I wish we had gotten to know more about Arata's family situation or Lewis' life in England. The romance is sweet, but largely insubstantial. (And if you're wondering, like many BL, it features one explicit sex scene as a final chapter.) But despite these issues, I enjoyed my time with the book and with Amamiya's gentle art. It's a nice story, even if it isn't perfect.

Caitlin Moore
Rating:

Don't kiss your crush while they're sleeping. It's a violation. It's sexual assault. It's creepy. Of all the supposed romantic tropes in manga that I dislike (see also: kabedons, grabbing someone by the wrist and pulling them along, jealousy as romance), it may actually be the worst. Wait, no, “I can't once I get started,” is worse. Both carry a tinge of rape culture that may be hot to some people, but is pure squick for me. They're also both in Far From Romance.

This is unfortunate, because I liked just about everything else about it. As I've learned from working on this guide, single-volume romances are tough to pace, lurching from their first meeting to the beginning of their romantic relationship to the first time they have sex with an awkwardness that defies the course of normal human closeness. A different kind of awkwardness, I mean. Far From Romance manages it better than most, in part because Lewis took a job at Kamome in part so he could meet Arata, the boy he fell in love with in Japan years ago. But even that is almost vestigial, a way to bring them together more than a focused plot point.

The story brushes past the checkpoints of the two men's growing closeness with a feather-light touch, emphasizing progress through the use of panel layouts and symbols like Lewis' growing skill at opening convenience store onigiri wrappers and Arata's willingness to try new things. Thanks to Amamiya's skill at building up these subtle systems, so subtle that most readers would probably never know them, Lewis and Arata's relationship progress feels organic and natural. There are a few issues – outside of the problems with consent, Lewis is English but depicted as greeting his coworkers with kisses, which is much more a thing with continental Europe – but the two balance one another perfectly.

The obligatory climactic sex scene has its ups and downs as well. It feels like the natural progression of their relationship, and, well, it gets the job done, but breaks immersion at a few points. There's Lewis' aforementioned declaration that he's not bothering with consent, of course. It also suffers from the issue common to this genre where, to avoid being declared outright pornography, it cuts its bodies into pieces through the panel layouts, which makes it hard to follow just who is doing what to whom at times. Still, Lewis and Arata are beautiful men, and it's nice to look at what's happening.

I feel so torn about Far From Romance. It's a better romance than most, with likable characters, organic character writing, and a real sense of place. It's hard to reconcile that with its issues regarding consent, even if they don't define the work, creating an unpleasant black mark on what would otherwise be an easy recommendation.