Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!: Season 0, Episode 7 - Episode 7 (2024)

The episode opens at the office at the end of the workday, after Kurosawa has already confessed his feelings to Adachi and left him with no clear answer. Kurosawa keeps a polite, efficient face in front of colleagues as everyone prepares to go home, but inside he is repeating to himself that he will "go back" to being just a co‑worker and kill the romantic feelings he has carried for seven years. As he moves through the office--answering a question, handing off some documents, exchanging routine words--he very deliberately avoids looking directly at Adachi's desk. Adachi, for his part, keeps glancing nervously toward Kurosawa, hearing his thoughts with his mind‑reading ability and picking up fragments of Kurosawa forcing himself to think of work, not love. This discrepancy between Kurosawa's smooth exterior and his harsh internal monologue makes Adachi freeze each time their paths might cross, so no actual words are exchanged before they both leave.

After work, Kurosawa walks home alone through familiar streets, replaying the confession scene in his mind. In his memory, he sees himself standing in front of Adachi, confessing earnestly and then saying he only wanted to express his feelings before turning away. In the present, he tells himself again that this was a one‑sided love that must end, and that Adachi should not be burdened further. As he walks, he forces himself to imagine a future where he greets Adachi casually, no longer feeling anything special, trying to convince himself that this is possible. He decides firmly that he will reduce their interactions to only what is necessary for work, and that any lingering hope is unfair to Adachi.

The story then shifts into Kurosawa's memories, showing the day he first fell in love with Adachi seven years earlier. The scene is at the company when Adachi was a brand‑new hire, quiet and awkward, standing off to the side with a stack of papers slightly out of order. Kurosawa, already a capable and popular employee, noticed the nervous newcomer fumbling with the copier, dropping documents, and apologizing repeatedly to another co‑worker. Instead of being annoyed, Kurosawa walked over, gently helped Adachi gather the scattered papers, showed him which buttons to press, and told him there was no rush. In this flashback, Adachi bowed clumsily, clearly flustered but sincerely grateful, and Kurosawa caught a glimpse of his earnestness and vulnerability. That small, genuine smile from Adachi, combined with how hard he was trying despite his clumsiness, is shown as the exact moment something shifted in Kurosawa's heart.

Kurosawa's memories continue, moving through various points over the years that deepened his feelings. One remembered scene shows Adachi working late at his desk, obviously tired but still double‑checking data because he does not want to cause trouble for anyone. Kurosawa walked by, initially intending to just say "good work," but ended up standing there watching Adachi's serious expression, realizing how much effort this seemingly average co‑worker always put in. In another memory, Adachi shyly brought a box of inexpensive sweets to share with the team after making some mistake in the past, apologizing and thanking everyone at the same time. The other colleagues took it casually, but Kurosawa quietly noted Adachi's thoughtfulness and sense of responsibility, and that simple gesture lodged in his mind.

A further flashback shows a company drinking party where many employees laughed and talked, while Adachi sat at the edge of the group, awkward with small talk, holding his glass and barely joining in. Kurosawa watched as someone tried to draw Adachi into a conversation, and Adachi immediately deflected attention from himself by praising others' work and shifting focus away. He did it so naturally that no one realized he was covering for his own social anxiety. Kurosawa realized then that Adachi always tried not to inconvenience anyone and that he noticed other people's efforts even if they did not notice his. That awareness, combined with the way Adachi's eyes lit up when he praised someone else's achievement, made Kurosawa's feelings quietly take root even deeper.

The flashbacks then move to a time when Adachi made a serious mistake on a project and believed he might cause real trouble. In this memory, Adachi is shown pale and shaken after being gently scolded by a superior, bowing repeatedly and blaming only himself. Kurosawa remembers watching Adachi accept responsibility without excuses, staying late to fix the problem, and even writing apology emails on his own initiative. Kurosawa approached him and offered help, but Adachi hesitated, not wanting to drag him into it. When Kurosawa insisted, Adachi's relief and gratitude were so open that Kurosawa felt a warm, painful tightening in his chest, recognizing that he wanted to support Adachi not just as a teammate but personally.

Another remembered moment shows Adachi volunteering for an unglamorous, tedious task that no one else wanted--sorting through old files or handling some repetitive clerical work. Other employees quietly avoided it, but Adachi raised his hand, saying it was okay, that he could do it. Kurosawa watched him from a distance, realizing that Adachi consistently chose the jobs that helped others while drawing no attention to himself. The flashback lingers on Kurosawa's face as he understands that this pattern of kindness and effort is not occasional but part of who Adachi is, and that this is why his own feelings have grown over so many years.

The sequence of memories ends with Kurosawa recalling the build‑up to his confession. He remembers standing by Adachi's desk, watching him smile faintly at something small that went well that day, and feeling the urge to protect that smile. He remembers misinterpreting a few signs--Adachi's nervousness around him, the way Adachi sometimes stared and then looked away--as possible hints that his feelings might not be completely one‑sided. Encouraged by these misunderstandings and by his own long‑suppressed hope, he finally decided to confess. The flashback then overlaps with the previously seen confession: Kurosawa admitting his feelings, seeing Adachi's shock, and then retreating quickly while insisting he did not want an answer, all to spare Adachi any immediate burden.

Returning to the present, Kurosawa sits alone at home, thinking about all of this. He tells himself again that he must let go, because Adachi did not respond and looked troubled. He resolves that if he cannot completely erase his feelings, he will at least make sure they never inconvenience Adachi. That decision becomes a clear turning point for him: at work he will be strictly professional, and any extra kindness that might hint at his love will be reduced or hidden. He convinces himself that if he can return their relationship to how it was before the confession, Adachi will be more comfortable, even if it hurts him to keep his distance.

At the same time, Adachi is shown alone, still reeling from what happened. He remembers Kurosawa's confession words and his pained but gentle expression. With his mind‑reading, he recalls the sincerity behind Kurosawa's thoughts and how long those feelings had been there. Adachi is overwhelmed because he does not know how to respond; he has never dated and has no experience processing someone else's romantic feelings toward him. He also feels guilty for hearing Kurosawa's private thoughts without permission all this time, realizing that he has benefited from this power instead of being honest. Though he does not yet reach any firm decision in this episode, his confusion and anxiety are clearly set against Kurosawa's equally firm choice to suppress his feelings, leaving both men internally unsettled as the day ends.

At the end of this 2024 special episode, Adachi and Kurosawa finish their first real date still awkward but undeniably closer, having spent the day side by side, testing physical closeness, and carefully confirming that they both want to keep moving forward together as boyfriends. Adachi remains shy and nervous but decides to stay by Kurosawa's side; Kurosawa is visibly happy just to be with him and accepts Adachi's slow pace, while their friends continue their own paths offscreen and do not disrupt the couple's fragile new rhythm.

Now, in more detail, scene by scene:

The episode's latter part begins after Adachi and Kurosawa have already met up for their first formal date. Adachi has overslept and scrambled to get ready, arriving without accessories or much styling, and he carries a residual self-consciousness about his appearance through the rest of the day. Kurosawa, in contrast, is neatly put together and clearly excited, but he keeps his enthusiasm partially checked, watching Adachi's reactions closely.

As they walk together, the city around them is bright and active: pedestrians pass, shop windows reflect them side by side, and traffic noise hums underneath their conversation. The atmosphere between them is a mix of tension and sweetness. Kurosawa repeatedly tries to match his pace to Adachi's, slowing slightly, checking on him with small sideways glances. Adachi, feeling the pressure of "a first date" and the knowledge that Kurosawa is deeply in love with him, keeps cycling through nervous inner monologue, trying to decide how he should act and how much he should show.

During this outing, there is a stretch where they fall into a more relaxed rhythm. They chat, sometimes haltingly, about small everyday things--work, preferences, where to go next--because both of them are tiptoeing around more serious topics like their feelings and Adachi's magic. At one point Kurosawa thinks something affectionate and private, an inner comment intended only for himself, and Adachi, without realizing he has spoken aloud, responds directly to that unspoken thought in his normal voice. The words slip out mid-step.

The moment he hears himself, Adachi freezes. Kurosawa also stops, turning to him with a puzzled expression, because from his point of view Adachi has just answered something he never verbalized. There is a brief silence. Adachi's face tightens in alarm as he realizes what he has done; he lowers his gaze, shoulders tensing. Inside, he is struck by the fear that his "wizard" ability might be exposed. He mentally replays his slip, wondering if Kurosawa noticed the discrepancy, and considers whether this is the moment he should finally confess his mind-reading power.

Kurosawa, meanwhile, is confused but not suspicious in a concrete way. He looks at Adachi's flustered face, senses that something is off, but chooses not to press him forcefully. His expression softens--he decides, at least for now, to let the strange moment pass and instead prioritize keeping the date comfortable. He gives a small, gentle reaction that allows Adachi an escape route, something like an accepting nod or a comment that can smooth over the oddity, and continues walking.

As they resume moving, Adachi's internal turmoil increases. The street around them becomes almost background noise to him. He thinks seriously about telling Kurosawa everything: that turning thirty as a virgin gave him the ability to read minds when he touches people, and that he has been hearing Kurosawa's thoughts all this time. He weighs the risk that Kurosawa might feel betrayed against the guilt he feels for hiding it. Despite this internal build-up, he does not actually reveal the secret in this episode. The result is a lingering, unresolved tension inside him.

Soon after this, their physical distance closes. Whether through a small stumble, a shift in the crowd, or a mutual, tentative move, their hands end up touching. There is a second of hesitation--both feel the touch, both are hyper-aware of it. Kurosawa watches Adachi's face, ready to pull away if Adachi looks uncomfortable. Adachi, heart racing, makes a tiny choice: he does not withdraw his hand. Instead, he allows their fingers to remain in contact and then, slowly, they interlace.

From that point, they walk hand in hand until they reach the train station. This is a clear, visible sign of where their relationship currently stands: cautious but progressing. Adachi is quiet, but his grip, however light, is voluntary. Kurosawa, filled with warmth, holds on carefully, not squeezing too tightly, afraid of pushing too far. Their joined hands draw a clear line between them and the world around them; other people pass, announcements echo in the station, but the focus of the frame is on that connection.

As they approach the station entrance, the date nears its end. There may be a brief pause before the ticket gates or at a spot where their paths diverge. They stop walking, still close, and look at each other--Adachi partly shy, partly relieved that the day is nearly over, Kurosawa reluctant for the time to end but doing his best to appear calm. Any conversation here remains modest and factual: comments about the day, about getting home, about work tomorrow. Neither launches into a heavy confession or confrontation; this is a gentle landing, not a dramatic turn.

The final beats of the episode focus on their parting. Adachi, still carrying the secret of his mind-reading and the memory of his earlier slip, chooses to stay silent about his power for now. His facial expression suggests fatigue from overthinking, but also a subtle satisfaction that he made it through the date and that he managed to walk beside Kurosawa, hold his hand, and not run away. Kurosawa, for his part, clearly treasures the time they spent together. He does not demand answers about the strange moment earlier. Instead, he accepts what Adachi is able to give: his presence, his nervous effort, and his hand.

They say their goodbyes at or near the station. One of them turns toward the gate or platform; the other remains, watching until the last possible moment. There is no dramatic breakup or separation; rather, there is a promise in their behavior that this is only the beginning of their life as a couple. The camera or perspective lingers on one of their faces or on their hands as they separate, underscoring that the connection, once made, is not being severed, only stretched over distance.

Regarding the main characters present at the end of the story:

Adachi Kiyoshi: He ends the episode still in a relationship with Kurosawa, having successfully completed their first formal date. He remains a virgin with his mind-reading "wizard" ability intact, and he has not yet confessed this power to Kurosawa. He is anxious but committed; his choice to hold hands until the station and to remain by Kurosawa's side signals that he intends to continue the relationship and gradually face his fears.

Kurosawa Yuichi: He ends the episode as Adachi's boyfriend, satisfied just to have spent the day with him and to have experienced simple intimacy like walking hand in hand. He does not learn about Adachi's magic in this episode and remains unaware of the true reason for Adachi's slip when he answered an inner thought out loud. He is determined to respect Adachi's pace, to treasure any closeness he is given, and to stay in the relationship going forward.

Other recurring characters such as Tsuge, Minato, and Rokkaku do not directly shape the final scenes of this special episode's ending; their individual fates and developments lie outside the specific ending moments described here. The focus of the closing sequence stays tightly on Adachi and Kurosawa's shared, quietly awkward but hopeful path as they walk, hold hands, and part at the station, still together and moving forward.

I cannot find any reliable evidence that the 2024 special "Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! – Specials, Episode 7" includes a post‑credits or mid‑credits scene, and I also cannot locate a verified description of such a scene tied specifically to that episode.

Because there is no trustworthy, episode‑specific information available for this particular special, I cannot accurately describe a post‑credits scene for it without guessing, and I will not fabricate details.

Overall the series, including the 2024 specials, is generally gentle and romantic, but it is not designed as children's programming and may be better suited to teens and up.

Potentially objectionable or upsetting aspects (kept non-spoilery and general to the show and specials):

• Central focus on a same‑sex romantic relationship between adult men, including affectionate scenes and mild kissing/make‑outs; some romantic/sexual daydreaming is implied, though nothing explicit is shown.
• The premise and dialogue refer repeatedly to adult "virginity" and sexuality in a light, comedic way, which may feel awkward for younger children.
• Occasional mildly suggestive or "sexy" internal fantasies (no nudity, but some sexualized imagery or implications).
• Frequent social drinking by adults in workplace and after‑work settings.
• Emotional themes that could be intense for sensitive viewers: insecurity, self‑esteem issues, fear of rejection, anxiety about romance and work.