Manga Critic

Short Takes: Black Bird, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, and Ludwig II

July 21, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

This week’s Short Takes column focuses on three very different comics. The first, Black Bird (VIZ), is a supernatural tale about a young girl whose flesh is as prized among demons as Kobe beef is among salarymen. The second, The Girl Who Leapt Through Time (Bandai Entertainment), is a one-volume adaptation of the 2006 film (which, in turn, is an “update” on the 1976 novel of the same name). And the third is Ludwig II (June Manga/DMP), an overripe costume drama about Wagner’s most famous sponsor, Mad King Ludwig of Bavaria.

BLACK BIRD, VOL. 1

BY KANOKO SAKURAKOJI • VIZ • 196 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

blackbird1 Since childhood, Misao has been cursed with an unlucky gift: the ability to see ghosts and demons. As her sixteenth birthday approaches, however, Misao’s luck begins to change. Isayama, the star of the tennis team, asks her out, and Kyo, a childhood friend, moves into the house next door, pledging to protect Misao from harm. Kyo’s promise is quickly put to the test when Isayama turns out to be a blood-thirsty demon who’s intent on killing — and eating — Misao. Just before Isayama attacks Misao, he tells her that she’s “the bride of prophecy”: drink her blood, and a demon will gain strength; eat her flesh, and he’ll enjoy eternal youth; marry her, and his whole clan will flourish. Kyo rescues Misao, revealing, in the process, that he himself is a tengu (winged demon) who’s also jonesing for her blood. Kyo then offers her a choice: marry him or die. Actually, Kyo is less tactful than that, telling Misao, “You can be eaten, or you can sleep with me and become my bride.”

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Cat Paradise, Vol. 1

July 16, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

When I was applying to college, my guidance counselor encouraged me to make a list of amenities that my dream school would have — say, a first-class orchestra or a bucolic New England setting. It never occurred to me to add “pet-friendly dormitories” to that list, but reading Yuji Iwahara’s Cat Paradise makes me wish I’d been a little more imaginative in my thinking. The students at Matabi Academy, you see, are allowed to have cats in the dorms, a nice perk that has a rather sinister rationale: cats play a vital role in defending the school against Kaen, a powerful demon who’s been sealed beneath its library for a century.

Yumi Hayakawa, the series’ plucky heroine, is blissfully unaware of Kaen’s existence when she and her beloved pet Kansuke enroll at Matabi Academy. Within hours of their arrival, however, they find themselves face-to-face with a blood-thirsty demon who describes himself as “the right knee” of Kaen. (N.B. He’s a lot more badass than “right knee” might suggest, and has a coat of human skulls to prove it.) The ensuing battle reveals that the school’s six-member student council is, in fact, comprised of magically-enhanced warriors who fight in concert with their pets. Each Guardian has a different ability; some possess super-strength, while others transform their cats into powerful weapons. Though prophecy foretold only six “fighting pairs,” Yumi and Kansuke quickly discover that they, too, have similar powers that obligate them to fight alongside the Guardians. Iwahara hasn’t explained why the prophecy proved wrong — a cloudy crystal ball, perhaps? — but it’s a safe bet that Yumi and Kansuke will have a special role to play in the impending showdown with Kaen, who has yet to materialize.

Though the plot sounds like an amalgam of manga cliches, Cat Paradise proves fun and fresh, thanks to Iwahara’s rich imagination and wicked sense of humor. The Guardians’ powers are handled in a particularly droll fashion: each student’s ability is based on his best talent, whether that be great physical speed or the ability to make a mean dumpling. The scenes in which Yumi and the other Guardians unleash their powers are both hilarious and horrifying, as Iwahara pokes fun at fighting-pair manga (e.g. Loveless) while punctuating the action with scary, visceral images (e.g. the demon’s coat). Iwahara also milks the talking animal concept for all its humorous potential, giving each Guardian’s cat a distinctive voice. The jokes are predictable but amusing; Kansuke speaks for many cats when he voices disdain for sweaters.

At first glance, Iwahara’s artwork looks a lot like other manga-ka’s. His cast is filled with familiar types, from the bishonen who’s so pretty people mistake him for a girl to the steely female fighter who looks older and more worldly than her peers. Yet a closer inspection of Iwahara’s drawing reveals a much higher level of craftsmanship that his generic character designs might suggest; he’s a consummate draftsman, favoring intricate linework over screentone to create volume and depth. (Even his character designs are more distinctive than they initially appear, as each human’s face contains a subtle echo of his cat’s.) The story’s good-vs-evil theme is neatly underscored by Iwahara’s use of white spaces and bold, black patches to create strong visual contrast and menacing shadows.

I’d be the first to admit that Cat Paradise defies easy classification. Is it a parody? A horror story? A plea for greater human-cat understanding? Or just a goof on Iwahara’s part, as his afterword suggests? No matter. Iwahara demonstrates that he can make almost any story work, no matter how ridiculous the premise may be. The proof is in the pudding: you don’t need to have a special fondness for cats, manga about cats, or manga about teen demon fighters to enjoy Cat Paradise, just a good sense of humor and a good imagination.

CAT PARADISE, VOL. 1 • BY YUJI IWAHARA • YEN PRESS • 192 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN

Cat Paradise, Vol. 1

July 16, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

catparadise_1 When I was applying to college, my guidance counselor encouraged me to compose a list of amenities that my dream school would have — say, a first-class orchestra or a bucolic New England setting. It never occurred to me to add “pet-friendly dormitories” to that list, but reading Yuji Iwahara’s Cat Paradise makes me wish I’d been a little more imaginative in my thinking. The students at Matabi Academy, you see, are allowed to have cats in the dorms, a nice perk that has a rather sinister rationale: cats play a vital role in defending the school against Kaen, a powerful demon who’s been sealed beneath its library for a century.

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Swallowing the Earth

July 9, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Nineteen sixty-eight was a critical year in Osamu Tezuka’s artistic development. Best known as the creator of Astro Boy, Jungle Emperor Leo, and Princess Knight, the public viewed Tezuka primarily as a children’s author. That assessment of Tezuka wasn’t entirely warranted; he had, in fact, made several forays into serious literature with adaptations of Manon Lescaut (1947), Faust (1950), and Crime and Punishment (1953). None of these works had made a lasting impression, however, so in 1968, as gekiga was gaining more traction with adult readers, Tezuka adopted a different tact, writing a dark, erotic story for Big Comic magazine: Swallowing the Earth.

Like MW (1976-78), which was also serialized in Big Comic, Swallowing the Earth is an overripe, overstuffed period piece that’s both entertaining and frustrating for modern readers. The basic plot is simple: seven beautiful young women seek to avenge the untimely death of their mother by wrecking havoc on the political, social, and economic systems that robbed Zephryus of her money and her home. The only thing standing in their way is Gohonmatsu, a perpetually drunken longshoreman who’s immune to their charms.

Tezuka’s presentation of the story, however, is anything but straightforward, as he employs flashbacks, subplots, and red herrings galore to sustain the reader’s interest. Some of these gambits are so ridiculous and nervy they work. Zephyrus’ daughters, for example, team up with a female scientist to produce Dermoid Z, a synthetic skin that can completely transform a person’s appearance. From a manga-ka’s standpoint, Dermoid Z is a brilliant device, as it allows him to plausibly conceal his characters’ identities from the reader and the other actors in the drama, giving him latitude to do just about anything.

Other gambits flat fall, as they rely on outdated notions of gender and race for their dramatic impact. When Dermoid Z arrives in the United States, for example, African-Americans begin buying white “skins” in vast quantities, donning them to commit crimes, enjoy privileges that had been denied them, and exact retribution on their oppressors. White retaliation is swift and brutal, plunging American cities into a race war that destroys the very fabric of society. Lacking a deep understanding of American history, or the underlying causes of the 1968 riots that erupted after Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, Tezuka’s subplot feels like a crude attempt to be topical. He’s grasped the basic injustice of segregation, yet he never humanizes his black characters; they remain a violent, faceless mob throughout this unfortunate episode.

Tezuka’s treatment of women is likewise muddled. He clearly recognizes that men have treated women as property throughout human history, a point he illustrates both through Zephryus’ story (which unfolds in Nazi-occupied France) and through an interlude in the South Seas, where a tribal chief barters with Gohonmatsu for a downed airplane, offering his two daughters in exchange for the machine. Yet Tezuka’s own notions of female sexuality frequently undermine his critique of male privilege. He depicts Gohonmatsu’s South Seas brides as sexual grotesques, with bodies as roundly deformed as the Venus of Willendorf’s and libidos that verge on nymphomania. Women from the developed world don’t fare much better, as Tezuka neatly divides them into two camps: man-hating hysterics (e.g. Zephyrus’ daughters) and tormented victims (e.g. a beautiful aphasiac who lost her ability to speak after she was raped).

However dated Swallowing the Earth‘s racial and sexual politics may be, it’s hard to deny the sheer exuberance of Tezuka’s artwork. His imagination yields some stunning — and stunningly weird — images. Zephyrus’ palace, in particular, is a marvelous creation, an Art Deco ziggeraut filled with enormous cat statues that look like they were swiped from Cleopatra’s tomb. Tezuka frequently experiments with the layout, varying the shape of the panels to suit the pace and intensity of the action, or to suggest the simultaneity of two events. One of the best examples occurs early in the story, when Gohonmatsu duels a handsome Spanish count on the deck of a tugboat:

Tezuka uses diagonal panels to mimic the rocking motion of a ship anchored in choppy water. The shape of the panels also demonstrate just how difficult it is for both characters to find their footing on the slippery deck — a small but tricky detail that isn’t easy to capture in a static image.

In an excellent companion essay to the English-language edition, manga scholar Frederick Schodt acknowledges Swallowing the Earth‘s myriad flaws — its surfeit of plotlines, its racial caricatures — while celebrating the almost anarchic way in which the story unfolds. He encourages readers to enjoy Earth as a “wild ride” and a window into a critical period in Tezuka’s development, showing us “how he began to make the transition from a children’s artist to someone who could push the manga medium in every genre, even for adult readers.” It’s in this spirit that I recommend Swallowing the Earth, as testament to Tezuka’s fertile imagination, and his ability to grow as an artist and a storyteller.

SWALLOWING THE EARTH • BY OSAMU TEZUKA • DMP • 516 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Swallowing the Earth

July 9, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

fightscene

SWALLOWING THE EARTH • BY OSAMU TEZUKA • DMP • 516 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Bamboo Blade, Vol. 1

July 6, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Dangerous Minds, Dead Poets Society, Stand and Deliver, and To Sir, With Love all depict teachers who are heroic in their self-sacrifice, renouncing money, family ties, and even their reputations in order to inspire students. Kojiro Ishido, the anti-hero of Bamboo Blade, won’t be mistaken for any of these noble educators. He’s bankrupt, morally and financially, and so eager to dig himself out of debt that he’d exploit his students in a heartbeat.

Kojiro’s troubles begin when he enters a bet with his old friend and sparring partner Toryah, an accomplished martial artist. If Kojiro can lead his school’s kendo club to victory over Toryah’s, Toryah will provide him with a year’s worth of free sushi from a top-notch restaurant. If Kojiro fails, he must surrender a personal treasure: the trophy he won for defeating Toryah at the 26th annual Shoryuki High School Kendo Meet. Making Kojiro’s job more challenging is the fact that Toryah coaches an all-girls’ squad; Kojiro’s co-ed team has but one female member, so he must recruit at least four more girls in order to scrimmage with Toryah’s crew. The few students who aren’t scared off by Kojiro’s acute desperation include Kirino, the club’s captain; Eiga, a plump boy who’d rather play ping pong; Nakata, Eiga’s best friend; Miya-Miya, a beautiful ditz; and Tamaki, an experienced swordswoman who initially rebuffs Kojiro’s entreaties to join the club.

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Bamboo Blade, Vol. 1

July 6, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Whether or not they’ll come together to form a proper team remains to be seen, but readers will be forgiven for bailing out before that point in the story, as Bamboo Blade quickly sinks under the weight of stale jokes and one-note characters. Kojiro, in particular, is a repellent creation: he’s mean, loud, and dumb, utterly lacking in the self-awareness or humility that would make him a sympathetic figure. A skillful writer might have found a way to make Kojiro’s nastiness funny — say, by making him more sardonic, or by drawing a sharper contrast between his pessimism and Kirino’s relentless optimism. Instead, Kojiro comes across as a crashing bore, a bully who’s incapable of speaking at conversational decibel levels or thinking of anything but his growling stomach. (He subsists on instant noodles and student handouts.)

The swordplay isn’t much better. Artist Aguri Igarashi’s fight scenes are impressionistic at best, employing speedlines to such a degree that it’s almost impossible to tell what’s happening in many panels; if anything, these scenes look like a forgotten Giacomo Balla painting: Kendo Fighters No. 1. I wished Igarashi had been more meticulous in showing how, exactly, a fight unfolds, from where the opponents strike one another to how they move across the floor, as there’s very little information about kendo anywhere in the story or the translation notes.

Given how exciting it is to watch a real kendo match, I’m convinced there’s a great story lurking deep within Bamboo Blade; I’m just not sure that Masahiro Totsuka and Aguri Igarashi are the right folks for the job. Sports junkies and fans of the Bamboo Blade anime may find something to like here, but rookies should avoid this team of losers.

BAMBOO BLADE, VOL. 1 • STORY BY MASAHIRO TOTSUKA, ART BY AGURI IGARASHI • YEN PRESS • 228 pp. • RATING: OLDER TEEN (16+)

Short Takes: The Big Adventures of Majoko, The Magic Touch and The Manzai Comics

July 2, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

With the Fourth of July right around the corner, I decided to keep things light and sparkly here at The Manga Critic by reviewing three humorous shojo titles: The Big Adventures of Majoko (UDON Entertainment), an all-ages title about an inept witch; The Magic Touch (VIZ), a comedy about a group of high school students who aspire to be professional masseuses; and The Manzai Comics (Aurora Publishing), a dramedy about a shy young man who becomes half of an Abbott-and-Costello comedy team.

THE BIG ADVENTURES OF MAJOKO, VOL. 1

BY MACHIKO FUJI AND TOMOMI MIZUNA • UDON ENTERTAINMENT • 200 pp. • RATING: KIDS (7+)

Like Fairy Idol Kanon and Ninja Baseball Kyuma!, The Big Adventures of Majoko uses magic and humor to teach kids the importance of telling the truth, doing their best, and treating each other respectfully. The story focuses on Nana, an ordinary eight-year-old, and Majoko, a young witch who’s still learning the ropes when it comes to flying and casting spells. Thanks to a magic diary, Nana can summon Majoko whenever she wishes. The two embark on a variety of missions, from assisting a mermaid to finding a lost necklace, relying on pluck and smarts when Majoko’s magic fails — a frequent occurence. While a few of the stories are didactic, most employ a light touch, keeping the pious sentiments to a minimum and focusing instead on adventure, as the girls battle one-eyed monsters, pursue a rainbow thief, and journey to the bottom of the sea.

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The History of the West Wing

June 29, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

westwing Though its name evokes images of the White House — and maybe even the unctuous Josiah Bartlett — The History of the West Wing is, in fact, an adaptation of a twelfth-century play by the Moliere of China, Wang Shifu.

The story follows Chen Yuqing, a handsome young man who wanders aimlessly from town to town. While staying at a monastery, he hears rumors of a beautiful young girl living in the building’s west wing. Yuqing steals into the temple garden to catch a glimpse of her and is immediately smitten, sending Pianpian an impassioned letter asking her to meet him. The two begin a brief but clandestine courtship, then petition Pianpian’s mother for permission to marry — a request that Madame Ye initially refuses, as Pianpian has been promised to the scion of a prominent family. When bandits kidnap Pianpian, however, Madame Ye appeals to the townsfolk for Pianpian’s safe return, offering her daughter’s hand in marriage as a reward. Yuqing succeeds, only to have Madame Ye qualify her assent by making an additional demand of him: he must earn the highest score on the imperial civil service exam. (For a little historical context, Madame Ye’s demand is a bit like an overzealous parent making a score of 1600 on the SATs a pre-requisite for taking her daughter to the prom.)

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Short Takes: The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service and Oishinbo A la Carte: Japanese Cuisine

June 24, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

This week’s Short Takes examines two manga aimed at adult audiences. (Notice I didn’t say “adult manga,” which is a different kettle of fish altogether, and not the sort of thing I typically review. Just sayin’.) The first is The Kurosagi Corpse Delivery Service (Dark Horse), a macabre series about a five oddballs who work with the recently departed; the second is Oishinbo a la Carte: Japanese Cuisine (Viz), a mouth-watering look at Japanese cuisine, from sushi and sake to ramen.

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The Cat in the Coffin

June 22, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

catcoffincover The year is 1955. Twenty-year-old Masayo, an aspiring painter from Hakodate, apprentices herself to Goro Kawabuko, a handsome widower who teaches at a Tokyo art college. In exchange for a weekly lesson, Masayo agrees to keep house for Goro and tutor his daughter Momoko, a strange, withdrawn child whose only companion is a regal white cat named Lala.

Masayo, who comes from a humble background, finds the Kawabuko household enchanting. Or, more accurately, she finds Goro enchanting. Goro epitomizes urban chic, hosting lavish parties, listening to jazz, and wearing the latest Western fashions. Realizing that Goro is beyond her reach, Masayo instead focuses on Momoko; if she can gain the girl’s confidance, perhaps she’ll have a claim on Goro’s heart as well. Masayo must first demonstrate her affinity for Lala, however, as the cat exerts an almost maternal power over Momoko, responding to her mistress’ quicksilver moods with an emotional intelligence that borders on human.

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The Cat in the Coffin

June 22, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

The year is 1955. Twenty-year-old Masayo, an aspiring painter from Hakodate, apprentices herself to Goro Kawabuko, a handsome widower who teaches at a Tokyo art college. In exchange for a weekly lesson, Masayo agrees to keep house for Goro and tutor his daughter Momoko, a strange, withdrawn child whose only companion is a regal white cat named Lala.

Masayo’s tenure is threatened by the arrival of Chinatsu, a beautiful sophisticate who seems intent on marrying Goro. Chinatsu competes with Masayo for Momoko’s affections, touching off a battle royal between the two women. Watching their struggle unfold, we begin to see through Masayo’s guileless pose: she’s as masterful a manipulator as Chinatsu, using her relationship with Momoko to drive a wedge between Goro and his fiancee:

For a wicked moment, I savored the momentary discomfiture that flickered across the faces of Goro and Chinatsu. Momoko had shown precious little interest in Chintasu; indeed, she had all but ignored her. And then she came running to me. It occurred to me then that aside from Goro, nobody was closer to Momoko than I was. That thought made me feel even more elated.

Like Henry James’s “The Turn of the Screw,” The Cat in the Coffin draws its power from “the strange and sinister embroidered on the very type of the normal and easy,” presenting itself as a domestic drama about a naive young woman who falls for her worldly employer. Yet the book has an oppressive, eerie quality that lends itself to several tantalizing readings: that Lala may be possessed by Momoko’s dead mother, that Momoko herself is a bad seed. By the novel’s end, the reader may believe Masayo’s account of events — and even feel great compassion for her — while questioning her involvement in them.

It’s this level of narrative complexity that elevates The Cat in the Coffin from romantic pot boiler to literature: we’re seduced by Masayo’s modest, self-effacing comments before we recognize that she’s an unreliable witness. One can certainly read The Cat in the Coffin as an atmospheric mystery, but it works on many other levels as well: as a meditation on jealousy, as a young woman’s sexual awakening, as a portrait of life in occupied Japan, as a parody of the Victorian governess novel. I’d love to see Vertical translate more work by Mariko Koike, as she brings an uncommon level of wisdom and literary sophistication to a pulpy genre.

Review copy provided by Vertical, Inc.

THE CAT IN THE COFFIN • BY MARIKO KOIKE, TRANSLATED BY DEBORAH BOLIVER BOEHM • VERTICAL, INC. • 190 pp.

The Adventures of Johnny Bunko: The Last Career Guide You’ll Ever Need

June 16, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

johnny-bunko-cover Given the current economic climate, any book with the subtitle The Last Career Guide You’ll Ever Need sounds like a worthwhile investment. Job seekers should be warned, however, that The Adventures of Johnny Bunko isn’t about crafting the perfect resume, networking, or nailing the interview, but finding a career path that suits your strengths and personal values. Readers should also note that Johnny Bunko’s format defies easy categorization, straddling the fence between graphic novel and self-help book. Some readers may find Johnny Bunko’s mixture of slapstick humor and advice charming, while others may find the presentation too gimmicky for their tastes.

The story follows Johnny, a recent college graduate toiling in anonymity at a large company. Thanks to a set of magical chopsticks, he acquires an unorthodox career counselor who talks like a drill sargeant but dresses like a genie. Johnny hopes that Diana will give him insider tips for getting ahead, but instead she offers six, Yoda-esque rules that run the gamut from “There is no plan” (meaning that it’s impossible to map out your entire career) to “Persistence trumps talent” (meaning that a strong work ethic is a better predictor of success than intelligence or talent). Each chapter addresses one of these six rules, showing us how Johnny’s mistakes prevent him from being successful in the workplace by playing it safe, working a job that taxes his weaker skills, and bypassing his supervisor to pitch an idea to the head honcho.

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The Adventures of Johnny Bunko: The Last Career Guide You’ll Ever Need

June 16, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Given the current economic climate, any book with the subtitle The Last Career Guide You’ll Ever Need sounds like a worthwhile investment. Job seekers should be warned, however, that The Adventures of Johnny Bunko isn’t about crafting the perfect resume, networking, or nailing the interview, but finding a career path that suits your strengths and personal values. Readers should also note that Johnny Bunko’s format defies easy categorization, straddling the fence between graphic novel and self-help book. Some readers may find Johnny Bunko’s mixture of slapstick humor and advice charming, while others may find the presentation too gimmicky for their tastes.

Daniel Pink’s advice may seem glib to recent college graduates without jobs. After all, Johnny is employed; he just doesn’t like what he’s doing. Folks in their mid-to-late twenties are a better audience for Johnny Bunko, as they’re more likely to be questioning their career path—should I go back to school for a graduate degree? why didn’t I get the promotion I deserve?—than those struggling to find an entry-level position.

page_layout

Whether twenty-something readers will warm to the presentation, however, is another question. Artist Robert Ten Pas, winner of Tokyopop’s Rising Stars of Manga contest, employs a style that blends Eastern and Western influences. This synthetic approach doesn’t quite work, producing a jumbled, dark layout that’s overly toned, a flaw compounded by the thin, greyish paperstock. Pas’ character designs are also problematic: though he draws realistic, animated faces, his characters’ bodies often look stiff, like dolls whose limbs have been bent into slightly unnatural positions.

If The Adventures of Johnny Bunko carried a lower price tag—say, $7.99—I wouldn’t hesitate to recommend it, as Daniel Pink offers the kind of sensible advice that most of us never got from parents, college career counselors, or co-workers. At $15.00, however, Johnny Bunko seems overpriced, both for the paucity of content and the poor production values. Self-help books don’t need to be long to be useful, of course, but when the book’s main talking points could be reduced to a good blog post, budget-conscious readers may prefer to obtain their copy through a used bookstore or library, as I did.

THE ADVENTURES OF JOHNNY BUNKO: THE LAST CAREER GUIDE YOU’LL EVER NEED • BY DANIEL PINK, ART BY ROB TEN PAS • RIVERHEAD BOOKS • 160 pp. • NO RATING

Night of the Beasts, Vols. 1-6

June 8, 2009 by Katherine Dacey

Night of the Beasts may not be Chika Shiomi’s best work, but it’s certainly her most ambitious, a sweeping horror-fantasy with detailed artwork and nakedly emotional dialogue reminiscent of CLAMP’s Tokyo Babylon and X/1999 .

When we first meet Aria, Night’s tough-talking, high-kicking heroine, she’s engaged in her favorite activity: beating up boys. Nasty boys, to be precise—Aria has a reputation for defending other girls from perverts, bullies, and overzealous flirts, both at school and on the streets of Tokyo. A self-professed man-hater, Aria blames her mother’s untimely death on her ne’er-do-well father—who abandoned the family shortly after Aria’s birth—and on her mother’s lecherous co-workers—who hassled the poor woman into an early grave. (What, exactly, Aria’s mom did for a living is never spelled out, and by volume two, Shiomi seems to have forgotten about the character altogether.)

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