I was in Church Street’s The Garage Bar when I learned Akira Toriyama (“Sand Land”) had passed. A brief check on Instagram while the last of the Tito’s was working its way through my system left me struggling not to tear up while I was with friends. I occupied a middle place between sobriety and emotionality, the bright lights of the bar losing their color and the steps on my walk home feeling all too heavy.
The Peaceful World Saga was the final arc for Toriyama’s characters in the “Dragon Ball Z” series: one last story taking place 10 years after the last major antagonist’s defeat. After its release, there would be a sequel series with questionable canonicity without Toriyama’s leadership. Many additional series and movies with Toriyama’s involvement would also occur in between that 10-year gap — but the definitive ending for Toriyama’s Dragon Ball franchise was his Peaceful World.
Toriyama’s contribution to the world of anime and manga has been recognized as nothing short of legendary. Extending beyond this, it was his work that moved not only modern animation forward but also online fandom as the internet began to become more commonplace alongside its anime releases in Japan and abroad. His work in the Chrono Trigger and Dragon Quest video games was also heralded as some of the best in the industry, with his distinctive art style shining through in every property he was involved in and inspiring countless more.
Maybe the chief example of Toriyiama’s impact is the memetic legacy of his star character: Son Goku. From the character’s drip to his video game cameos to the omnipresent assertion, “He not beating Goku,” the orange-clad alien warrior sits atop his rightful throne of the internet as a veritable Nike — the goddess of victory, I mean — of the internet, bringing joy wherever he can. Joy, of course, was the epitome of Toriyama’s brand and what he wanted to infuse all his characters and audiences with — even if it was a mighty, tense struggle to get there.
That loss of joy is part of why it hurts to write this; it feels disrespectful to be sad toward a person who wanted nothing but joy for those he was connected with. I feel the weight with every keystroke I press, another admission, an unending realization that a man who gave so much to my life — to countless lives — is gone. The cycle of thinking that occurs when people like this pass on is to recognize how instrumental they were in shaping who you are today, to wonder who you would be if they were never around and what it means to be who you are today while they’re no longer around.
My joys from Akira Toriyama I can easily share: The most invested I’ve ever been watching Nicktoons on a CRT TV in the bedroom that would eventually become my sister’s, the characters that were part of the reason I ever got as far in martial arts as I did (let alone earning my black belt) and how the Dragon Ball franchise was one of my first connections with the digital landscape as a whole; there’s a possibility I wouldn’t be here as a Digital Culture writer, writing this article now, if not for Akira Toriyama. These are stories you’ve heard, these are stories you hear and these are stories you will continue to hear from his fans — especially on the internet, where we’ve found everyone united in grief.
I can tell you one last thing I learned, though. See, one defining aspect of Toriyama’s Dragon Ball franchise was using those eponymous items as tools for revival. Death was never the end; it was eventually a mere obstacle for the characters to return from what they would call the “Other World.” You’ll see phrases related to this phenomenon all over the internet’s expressions of grief, but the key thing is that it’s an extremely fitting franchise hallmark for a series that refuses to die. As I said, Dragon Ball would keep going well after Toriyama’s penned ending, in sequel series and movies and other franchise spin-offs that continue until this day — a new series led by Toriyama is going to premiere this fall.
Something is touching about leaving the last world in the Peaceful World Saga, though. Despite everything different creators might like to do with the sandbox that is now the Dragon Ball universe, it will always end as Toriyama wrote it decades ago. That’s the biggest thing I think we learn from him, that things end. Everything does, especially great stories — in fact, to be great stories, they have to end. However, creators like Akira Toriyama live on in everyone they’ve inspired, they find immortality in all the art that becomes a part of their legacy. Great stories end. Great storytellers never die.
Thank you for everything, Toriyama-san.
Daily Arts Writer Saarthak Johri can be reached at sjohri@umich.edu.