It spends five episodes convincing you it's a warm, dusty summer about a press club kid chasing base rumors, then it takes the floor out from under you. Asaba's whole arc is small and mortifying in the best way: getting dragged around by Suizenji, fumbling a vending machine with a girl who doesn't know how to be a girl, noticing the bandages and the nosebleeds and choosing not to ask. Iriya Kana is the reason this thing gets shelved next to Saikano, a child handed a cockpit and a countdown, and Enomoto standing there as the adult who knows exactly what's being spent. The last stretch, the running-away days, is engineered to wreck you, and it does. Yes, six episodes means the war and the machine are never really explained, and yes, the front half is a mess. You will not care by the final minutes.
Naoyuki spends his summer staking out the military base near his town, convinced that UFOs are real and hidden somewhere within its fences. He's obsessed with proof, with evidence, with breaking through the veil of secrecy that surrounds the installation. When school starts again, a new transfer student named Iriya appears in his class, and something about her feels wrong in ways he can't articulate. She's too perfect, too composed, too aware of things she shouldn't know about. As Naoyuki gets closer to Iriya, drawn by curiosity and something deeper, the gap between the world he thought he understood and the truth begins to crack open. Every interaction peels back another layer. What starts as a summer of UFO hunting becomes something far more personal and devastating: a collision between an ordinary teenage life and mysteries that were never meant to be uncovered. The series balances quiet romance against existential dread, asking whether some knowledge comes at too high a cost to bear.