Release order and story order rarely agree
Two columns of the same twelve numbers, wired together by crossing lines — because the order you got a story in and the order it happens in are seldom the same order.

Twelve numbered blocks on the left, top to bottom, one to twelve. Twelve numbered blocks on the right, the same twelve, in a different order. Long lines connect each pair across the gap.
Where the lines run diagonal instead of straight is where the two orders disagree.
What are the two columns actually counting?
One column is the order something was released, sold, or aired in. The other is the order its own story happens in.
Those two are the same thing surprisingly rarely. A side story gets published between two main chapters and belongs, chronologically, three chapters earlier. A box set gets reissued with a prologue moved to the front. A translated edition ships out of the order the original run did. It's the same gap that produces a flowchart with a diamond for every point somebody has to decide, except this chart already assumes you're starting at the beginning and only cares about what happens next. Whoever drew this cared enough to lay both orders side by side and connect them.
What does a long diagonal line actually mean, versus a short one?
Distance on the page is standing in for distance in the disagreement.
A short, near-straight connector means the two orders barely differ — item four is item four, more or less. A long diagonal crossing several other lines means somebody watched or read that piece far from where it chronologically belongs, and the chart is making you look at exactly how far. The crossings aren't decoration; each one is a specific instance of the two orders pulling apart.
Why do two orders exist for the same twelve things in the first place?
Because release and story serve different masters.
A publisher releases chapters in the order they're finished, which is driven by production, not plot. A story unfolds in the order its own internal clock runs. Those two schedules only line up by coincidence, and the gap widens further with every side story, every reprint, and every version translated years after the original. The timeline that gave up trying to keep one line is the same problem one step further along — this chart is what people draw before they get there.
Can I use a real series' actual chapter or episode numbers?
No — a specific numbering scheme is tied to a specific work, and reproducing it recognisably is reproducing that work's structure, which the publisher controls.
The two-column, crossed-line format is not anyone's invention; it's the standard way to show any reordering, used across scheduling, logistics and cataloguing long before fandom got hold of it. Plain numerals with no titles attached, like the twelve here, keep the print about the shape of the disagreement rather than about one publisher's list.
Does this only apply to episodes?
No. Anything issued in instalments and consumed as a whole earns this treatment — chapters, tracks on a reissued album, case numbers filed out of order, dispatches that arrive weeks apart from when they were written.
The chart doesn't care what the twelve things are. It only cares that they came out in one order and belong, by some other logic, in another — the same underlying fact that marks which of a run's instalments a newcomer can skip once the correct order has already been settled.
Isn't this a lot of diagram for a numbering quirk?
It looks like a lot until you've tried to explain the gap out loud to somebody and watched them lose the thread by item six.
A sentence can hold two or three exceptions before it collapses into a list nobody follows. A chart with twelve rows and visible crossings holds all of it at once, and a newcomer can see in one look roughly how tangled the two orders are before committing to either.
Does it print well?
Yes — flat numbered blocks and straight-ruled connectors are close to the most robust combination there is on cotton.
Keep the two column colours distinct and the connecting lines a single consistent weight; the crossings only read clearly if the lines themselves don't compete with the numerals for attention. A short, deliberate palette prints cleaner than a full-colour one on a chart like this, where the content is really the geometry.
How do I get one made?
Describe the two orders at JustOG — how many items, and roughly how tangled the crossings should be. Pick a direction, drag the crop frame, see it composited on the real garment, and it's made to order and shipped.
Designs other people have published are in the shop.
Twelve things went out one way and happened another. The lines are just where that gets counted.