Is Dagashi Kashi Worth Reading? Review & Where to Read

Overview

Kokonotsu Shikada wants to draw manga, not sell penny candy. His family has run the same dagashi shop for generations, and his father expects him to be the next one behind the counter. Then Hotaru Shidare shows up — the eccentric heiress of a major confectionery company — to recruit his father away, and his father's price is simple: convince Kokonotsu to take over the shop first. What follows is a surprisingly earnest, candy-obsessed comedy about a boy who'd rather be anywhere else than running a dagashi store.

What it does well

The hook here is weirder and more specific than it sounds, and that specificity is the whole appeal. Dagashi Kashi is, underneath the comedy, a genuine love letter to real Japanese penny candy — actual products, actual history, actual trivia about why a given snack is shaped or packaged the way it is — and Hotaru's manic enthusiasm for explaining it all is funny precisely because she means every word of it.

Hotaru carries the series. She's a big, chaotic personality dropped into a sleepy countryside setting, and the contrast between her and Kokonotsu's quiet reluctance gives almost every chapter its energy. The gag structure is tight, too — most chapters build to one specific punchline around a specific candy, which keeps the comedy from feeling aimless even when the overarching plot (will Kokonotsu take over the shop? will he and Hotaru end up together?) moves slowly.

It's also just a pleasant hangout comedy. The cast is likeable, the setting is cozy, and the candy trivia genuinely makes you want to go track down the snacks being described.

Where it falls short

The central question — what Kokonotsu actually wants, and whether he and Hotaru end up together — stays vague for most of the run and doesn't land with much clarity by the end. If you want a story that commits to resolving its will-they-won't-they, this will feel unfinished in spirit even though it's technically complete.

The candy-trivia format is also a double-edged sword: it's charming in small doses, but entire chapters built around explaining a single snack's manufacturing quirks can feel more like an infomercial than a story beat if you're not personally invested in the subject.

Saya's long-running crush on Kokonotsu gets a fair amount of page time without much forward motion, which makes that thread feel more like set dressing than a real arc.

Verdict

A genuinely charming, specific kind of comedy that works best if you let yourself get pulled into its candy-obsessed rhythm rather than waiting for the romance plot to resolve. Read it for Hotaru and the trivia, not for a tidy ending.