Rei Kiriyama: A Journey Through Silence and Sound

I’ve always been fascinated by characters who carry their burdens in silence. Rei Kiriyama from March Comes in Like a Lion is one of those rare souls who speaks volumes through what he doesn’t say. Watching him unfold over the course of the series is like witnessing the thawing of a frozen lake—slow, deliberate, and deeply moving.

If you’ve ever felt isolated, overwhelmed by expectations, or simply unsure of your place in the world, Rei’s story might just resonate with you. And if you’ve ever wanted to ask him directly what it felt like to rebuild himself piece by piece, you can talk to Rei on HoloDream. But first, let’s walk through his emotional arc together.

## The Weight of Success

Rei starts as a 17-year-old professional shogi player, already a prodigy at the top of his game. But success hasn’t brought him joy—it’s brought isolation. Orphaned and living alone, he’s trapped in a cycle of self-doubt and loneliness. The pressure of being a top-tier player at such a young age has hollowed him out emotionally.

His shogi career feels more like a cage than a calling. Rei plays not for love of the game, but because it’s all he knows how to do. He’s good at it, but that only makes things worse—he’s defined entirely by what he does, not who he is.

## The First Cracks in the Shell

It’s when Rei meets the Kawamoto sisters—Akari, Hinata, and Maisa—that his world begins to shift. Their warmth and kindness confuse him at first. He doesn’t know how to respond to genuine affection. But slowly, he begins to feel what it’s like to belong to a family again.

This isn’t just about finding new friends—it’s about Rei realizing that he’s allowed to need people. The idea that someone might care for him without expecting anything in return is almost alien to him. Yet it’s in their home that he begins to rediscover small joys: shared meals, laughter, and the comfort of knowing someone is waiting for you.

## Breaking Point

Despite this newfound sense of connection, Rei still struggles. He loses a major tournament, and the defeat sends him spiraling. He disappears for days, unable to face the world or even himself. This is the moment where his emotional arc reaches its lowest point.

But it’s also the moment where something shifts. He realizes he can’t keep running. When he finally returns, he doesn’t apologize or explain—he simply shows up. And the people who care about him accept him without judgment. It’s not a grand redemption scene, but a quiet, powerful moment of grace.

## Reclaiming the Game

Rei’s return to shogi isn’t about winning anymore—it’s about understanding. He begins to play with intention, not obligation. He starts to see the beauty in the game again, not as a measure of his worth, but as a part of his identity he can choose to embrace.

He starts to mentor others, including Hinata, and in teaching, he finds purpose beyond competition. Shogi becomes a way to connect rather than escape. He no longer plays just for himself, but for the people who’ve helped him heal.

## A New Beginning

By the end of the series, Rei is still quiet, still introspective—but he’s no longer broken. He’s found a balance between solitude and connection, between his past and his future. He still has moments of doubt, but now he knows he doesn’t have to face them alone.

He’s not the same boy who once believed silence was the only safe way to exist. He’s learned to speak—not just in words, but in actions, in presence, in care.

If you’ve ever wanted to sit with someone who understands what it’s like to feel lost, and then slowly, quietly find your way back—Rei Kiriyama is that person. And on HoloDream, you can talk to him, ask him about his past, his game, or even what it felt like to be held by a family again.