At first glance, many people might find it hard to associate the word "cruel" with Chiikawa. With their round bodies and big eyes, Chiikawa, Hachiware, and Usagi spend their days eating delicious food, singing songs, and going out to play. Just looking at the characters' expressions brings an inexplicable sense of healing. But the longer adults watch, the more they begin to realize: this world isn’t as carefree as it seems. Chiikawa doesn’t live a worry-free life without doing anything. The official anime character introduction clearly states that Chiikawa earns a living through jobs like "weeding" and "monster slaying." Kodansha’s description of the second manga volume further mentions that Chiikawa studies hard to pass the "Weed Removal Certification Level 5" exam, because obtaining the qualification increases their income. In other words, even in this fluffy, adorable world, you still have to: work, earn money, get certified, and find ways to increase your income. And effort doesn’t always lead to the desired outcome. Doesn’t that suddenly feel familiar? Perhaps the real reason Chiikawa captivates adults isn’t just its "cuteness." It’s because, as we watch these tiny characters, we suddenly realize: their lives resemble our own. No matter how cute Chiikawa’s world appears, one thing remains inescapable: to live, you must work. Chiikawa does weeding and also takes on dangerous monster-slaying tasks. This setting resonates deeply with adults because it touches on a very ordinary yet profoundly real issue: living has costs. Not everyone works because they’ve found their life’s calling. Often, it’s simply because: you need to eat today. This month’s bills are due. Next month, you still need to survive. You might be exhausted, afraid, or have just experienced a deeply discouraging event yesterday. But when you wake up the next morning, life doesn’t stop just because you’re feeling down. Chiikawa places this reality into an extremely cute world, making the contrast especially powerful. The characters look like small animals that should be protected, yet they must, like adults, find a way to keep their lives going. Want to earn more? Chiikawa must first get certified. Even more realistically, Chiikawa’s world doesn’t just have "jobs"—it even has a certification system. Kodansha’s official description of the second manga volume mentions that Hachiware finds a study guide for the "Weed Removal Certification Level 5" at Chiikawa’s home. Chiikawa studies hard because passing the exam increases their pay. At this point, adults might not be able to laugh anymore. Because this logic is all too familiar: Want to increase your income? Then go get certified. Want better working conditions? Then learn more. Want a better future? Then study after work. Even after a tiring day at work, you still open your books at night. Not because everyone loves exams. But because we slowly realize that "wanting a slightly better life" itself comes at a cost. This is where Chiikawa becomes fascinating. It doesn’t package this system as some grand success story. The qualification Chiikawa seeks isn’t one that will change the world. It’s just the "Weed Removal Certification Level 5." But for these small characters living in this world, the income difference that certification brings is very real. Just like many adults in real life study for certifications, prepare for exams, and learn new skills—not because they dream of becoming extraordinary people. Sometimes, it’s simply so the next job pays a little more. The hardest part of effort isn’t failure—it’s when someone else succeeds while you’re still struggling. The reason the "Weed Removal Certification" arc in Chiikawa resonates so deeply with adults isn’t the exam itself. It’s because it touches on a feeling many have experienced from school through the workplace: even when you work hard together, the results aren’t always equal. Fuji TV once discussed the "Weed Removal Certification" arc in a production team interview. The interviewed producer mentioned particularly liking episodes 57 to 63, as they reminded him of very common life experiences—a rarity in typical anime. It doesn’t keep telling you: "If you work hard, you’ll definitely succeed." Because reality simply isn’t like that. You and your friend study for an exam together—your friend passes first. You and a colleague join the company around the same time—your colleague gets promoted first. You watch your friends buy homes, get married, or land better jobs, while you feel stuck in place. The hardest part isn’t even jealousy. It’s: "I worked just as hard—why haven’t I succeeded yet?" Only as adults do we learn that one of life’s true difficulties is accepting that everyone has a different timeline. Effort may have value. But effort never guarantees that everyone gets their answer on the same day. Chiikawa desperately wants to increase their income—and one reason is: "So I can buy gifts for everyone." Here, Chiikawa adds another gentle detail. Kodansha’s official description highlights that one reason Chiikawa wants to obtain the Weed Removal Certification and increase their income is: "If I earn more, I can buy gifts for everyone." This is a small thing. But when viewed through adult eyes, it suddenly becomes deeply moving. When we’re young, we imagine "earning more money" as buying a better phone, traveling farther, or living in a nicer house. But as we grow older, many people’s income goals gradually include others’ names: wanting parents to live more comfortably, wanting to treat family to a nice meal, wanting their child to not worry about certain things, wanting to buy a truly meaningful gift for a friend’s birthday, or simply not having to check prices every time we eat out. So, the seemingly realistic desire to "earn more money" may actually hide very soft motivations. Money itself isn’t necessarily the goal. Many just want the ability to be kinder to the people they care about. That’s why, even though Chiikawa is striving for just a tiny "Weed Removal Certification," watching it feels unexpectedly heartbreaking. Because adults understand this feeling all too well: I don’t want to become incredibly powerful—I just wish I could be a little more capable. The true cruelty of Chiikawa isn’t that "cuteness" makes the world gentler to them. Kodansha’s introduction to the Chiikawa manga never describes this world as purely joyful and healing. The official description mentions that Chiikawa, Hachiware, Usagi, and others live together, experiencing not only happiness but also hardship, sadness, and even danger. This is crucial. Because what truly unsettles viewers about Chiikawa isn’t the sudden appearance of a terrifying monster. It’s this: even if you’re small, weak, and adorable, the world doesn’t guarantee you’ll be spared from suffering. You can still be afraid. You can still fail. You still have to work. You still have to take exams. You still have to face things you’re not good at. A friend might achieve their goal before you do. The world won’t always reward you just because you tried hard. Isn’t this exactly what adults slowly learn? As children, we easily believe that if we’re good kids, study hard, and work diligently, things will eventually turn out well. But as adults, we realize: kindness isn’t a get-out-of-jail-free card, and effort isn’t a guaranteed ticket to success. Sometimes, you do nothing wrong, and things still go wrong. But why doesn’t Chiikawa become a despairing work because of this? If we stopped here, Chiikawa might seem like a cruel story disguised in cuteness. But it isn’t. Because while this world doesn’t promise that "effort always leads to success," it always preserves some small things: a delicious meal. A friend by your side. Completing something you were once afraid of. Finally resting after work. Or simply a small, joyful moment today. These things might not change your life. They won’t make all problems disappear. But they make the characters feel: today might still be okay. Perhaps this is where Chiikawa truly heals adults. It doesn’t tell you: "Don’t worry, everything will be fine." Because we all know no one can guarantee that. Instead, it’s more like saying: the world can be tough sometimes, but hardship and joy can coexist. Today was exhausting at work, but dinner could still be delicious. This exam failed, but you can still genuinely celebrate your friend’s success. Life has many scary things, but you can still laugh together with someone you love. What makes Chiikawa most like reality isn’t the work—it’s "still continuing tomorrow." So, Chiikawa feels healing, yet adults often find it increasingly realistic. The reason might never be how dark this world is. It’s because it shrinks everything adults face daily into a tiny world: work, income, qualifications, exams, failure, comparison, fear, and the occasional small joy. As children, we might have thought a happy life meant everything

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  • Source: PR Times
  • Category: News