Manga Bookshelf

Discussion, Resources, Roundtables, & Reviews

Blog

Water Dragon’s Bride, Vol. 8

by

The Water Dragon’s Bride Volume 8 by Rei Toma

One of the central questions I had as a reader of The Water Dragon’s Bride was what would happen if Asahi managed to find her way home? With her return to modern day Japan and her decision to rejoin her friends in the world of the Water Dragon God, I was curious to see where Toma would take the plot next in terms of a main conflict. She introduces a new antagonist for the Water Dragon God and Asahi, and I’m genuinely curious to see where the story goes next because I’m not sure what to expect.

Water Dragon God 8

The idea of other castaway people has been touched on a little bit before in this series, but this volume takes a turn when it thoroughly explores the backstory of Kurose, the companion to Tokoyami the God of Darkness, who rules an Underworld where it is impossible for the Water Dragon God to enter. The Water Dragon God enlists Subaru for help, but it ends up being Asahi’s unpredictable reactions to danger and the strength of her caring for others that opens up a possibility for her to escape.

Asahi and the Water Dragon God end up creating some deadly supernatural enemies, and one of the things that I appreciate about Toma is that her antagonists are fully drawn, with motivations and reasons for their actions that cause the reader to ponder the nature of humanity. Kurose is bullied in school, and when he’s rescued by Tokoyami and taken to a world of darkness, we see what happens when a less resilient human gets exposed to supernatural influences without the benefit of Asahi’s strong inner will. Kurose has his own traumatic adventures in the world of the Water Dragon God, where bad things happen to good people, and the gods seem indifferent to the suffering that they refuse to intervene in. As always, Toma’s capable illustrations serve to heighten the impact of the symbolic world that the gods inhabit, contrasted to the lives of ordinary villagers and teenagers in the modern world. There’s a confrontation between the two gods and their companions which will surely happen in the volumes ahead, and I’m very curious to see if Asahi’s unique outlook and faith manages to get herself and the Water Dragon God out of yet another complex situation.

Katanagatari: Sword Tale, Vol. 1

by

By Nisioisin and take. Released in Japan in three separate volumes by Kodansha BOX. Released in North America by Vertical, Inc. Translated by Sam Bett.

This is the third major series of Nisioisin’s to come out over here as a novel, after the popular Monogatari Series and the cult classic but poor selling Zaregoto Series. These books reunite Nisio with the artist for the Zaregoto books, and the art is sufficiently stylistically awesome. As for fans of Nisioisin’s wordplay, not only do they get tons of that in these volumes, but we get footnotes from the translator (which he indicates are totally optional) explaining many of the original lines and why they’re puns, as well as his own translation choices. It’s the sort of thing I wish that we could have seen with the Monogatari books, as it might have made several readers less dagnabbit mad. The book is also very metatextual, a common thread in Nisio’s work, with suggestions that certain elements will be followed up with in future books, or announcing the tragic backstory of one of the characters is coming. That said, it’s a very Nisio series, but how does it hold up as an actual book?

Our hero is Shichika, who lives on a little-known island with his older sister Nanami. He’s the heir to a school of swordsmanship, the Kyotoryu, that does not use swords – but aside from not using swords, it’s handled exactly like a classic sword school. As a result, Shichika is essentially a blade himself, which makes sense given that sometimes he tends to have the emotional depth of an inanimate object. Into this island steps Togame, who is there to hire Shichika to help her locate twelve Mutant Blades, katanas that rightfully should belong to the Shogun but are instead being used by twelve other people. After the events of the first book, which involve the first of those swords, Shichika agrees to accompany her, leaving the island and his sister and going to get each sword one by one – though that always means a battle.

As I hinted before, Shichika is almost a parody of the “simple country bumpkin’ type who isn’t so simple, and much is made of the fact that he has never really had to think before now, so isn’t used to it. This makes him a pleasing contrast at least to super-genius Ii-chan and overly florid Araragi. He’s fine with leaving the thinking to Togame, who is a self-titled “schemer” but whose schemes haven’t really been able to do much but postpone the inevitable fights so far, and whose fragility makes her easy to use as a hostage or a distraction. She’s also less clever than she thinks, as the best gag in the book, a misuse of a British greeting she has, attests to. Together they make each other more interesting, which is all one can ask. As for the sword wielders, by the end of the first omnibus three are dead, though you are only meant to feel sympathy for the last one – indeed, the ninja clan that start the book as the main antagonists have become, at the author’s own insistence, the comic foils of the story.

It’s clear who this book is meant for: fans of the anime, as well as fans of Nisioisin’s eclectic narrative style. Both should find this series very entertaining, though even I found Shichika somewhat wearing by the end. I’ll definitely be getting the next set of three this spring.

The Irregular at Magic High School: Visitor Arc, Part II

by

By Tsutomu Sato and Kana Ishida. Released in Japan as “Mahouka Koukou no Rettousei” by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Prowse.

This is very much a book of two halves, and I must admit that I preferred the first half to the second, though they both had issues. The first half is a continuation of the plot from the first book in this arc, as Tatsuya and Lina separately and together try to figure out what’s “possessing” these people and how to stop them, but are almost undone by a traitor in Lina’s midst. The traitor is… a character we met once before in the last book, but I must admit “minor character X’ does not really make it very dramatic – I was expecting it to be Lina’s aide Sylvia, which would have been more tragic. There’s also a pretty nice fight with said minor character traitor at the climax of the first half of the book, which actually gives Mizuki something to do. And we get a great way to present boring exposition and still make me laugh – Shizuku calls from California to give intel to Tatsuya, but she’s shitfaced drunk when she does so, and he’s trying to explain things to her as she slurs her words more and more. It’s pretty funny.

I was less impressed with the second half of the book, as it’s Valentine’s Day at the school, and you know what that means: wacky hijinks. I’ve talked before about how I’m not fond of Honoka being defined just by her love of Tatsuya, and I realize that the author is trying to let her and Shizuku get developed by the Honor Student manga author in that regard, but man, here her love for Tatsuya is literally weaponized by the runaway parasite, who possessed a robot named Pixie that’s part of the school’s robotics experiment. As you can imagine, instead of being driven by self-preservation and killing witnesses like the other possessed folks, she’s driven by the intense and disturbingly submissive love for Honoka that Honoka accidentally activated her with. That said, most of the valentine stuff was merely okay, and not actually irritating. And Mayumi’s revenge chocolates made me smile.

The irritating, as so frequently happens in this series, was saved for our two leads. I realize that Miyuki gets jealous sometimes, but what she did with Tatsuya’s chocolates was so petty and immature my jaw dropped. This is not helped by Tatsuya basically saying “welp” and just going along with it. (Tatsuya is not at his most likeable throughout the book – there’s a sequence where he lets Miyuki answer a difficult conundrum they have as he wants her to be “more than a pretty doll” that made me want to punch him.) And, of course, Miyuki is also dealing with her incestuous feelings for her brother, which are sometimes used as the usual gag (Lina’s reaction to Miyuki saying she and Tatsuya are just siblings) but in Miyuki’s inner thoughts are very much taken seriously. She feels guilty about these feelings, but honestly the whole thing makes me feel deeply uncomfortable.

When you add in some “Japan is good, everyone else is less good” speeches, and Lina getting chewed out for daring to fall in love with Tatsuya (a fact that she denies, but no one believes her, least of all the reader), and you have a typically easy to read but frustrating volume of Mahouka. Next volume should wrap up this arc, at least.

An Invitation from a Crab

by

By panpanya. Released in Japan as “Kani ni Sasowarete” by Hakusensha, serialized in the magazine Rakuen Le Paradis. Released in North America by Denpa Books. Translated by Ko Ransom.

Iev always been a fan of those sketchy, semi-slice of life (except they’re too weird) manga that you see towards the back of a lot of seinen and josei manga magazines. It used to be that the chances of such works getting licensed over here was nil, but Denpa has quite a few eclectic titles coming out now, and An Invitation from a Crab is one of the first. It’s more of a collection of interconnected short stories, along with the occasional essay discussing the importance of paying attention to things. Our unnamed heroine is theoretically a high school student, and occasionally we do see her in class. But the world she’s in is not quite the same as ours, featuring normal humans but also animal-headed people, as well as the bizarre lemon with an eye that seems to be a ‘boss’ sort of type. Essentially, An Invitation from a Crab is a “what kind of stories will the author spin next?’ sort of book. And they’re good stories.

The stories here range from a few pages long to larger chunky narratives. The title comes from the first story, where our heroine follows a crab that is lying in the road and seems to know where it’s going. That said, the “punchline”, as it were, amounts to not much, and that’s also the case with most of the rest of these stories. You’re reading this for mood, not for jokes or characterization, and so frequently the stories feel like “shaggy dog” stories, where the ending does not justify the effort expended. Which is absolutely fine given much of this is about enjoying the journey. We see our heroine wearing a Chinese communist outfit in a factory breaking coconuts so they can be used to create electricity. That is a sentence I can’t believe I just typed, and it’s probably the weirdest of the stories in here, but there’s other dreamlike sequences as well, including one that literally is a dream, where our heroine’s spirit gets off a train but her body doesn’t.

There is quite a bit of humor here, despite my saying earlier that there weren’t punchlines per se. Sometimes simply seeing the situation makes me laugh, such as our heroine and her dog/roommate/whatever searching to try to find anyone who knows where pineapples come from, or the heroine gleefully preparing for her Sunday day off by doing piles of things (this reminded me of the Zetsubou-sensei chapter where the class had a “preview” of their field trip). And sometimes the mood can be disturbing – there’s a lot of dark shadows in this world, and while the coconut and lost body stories are not dark in any way, they’re unsettling and have a sense of unreality to them. Even some of the shorter stories in the volume, such as when our heroine is sold a giant salamander and tries to return him to the Amazon (a plot that lifts directly from an old Bugs Bunny cartoon), has an ominous feel to its humorous ending.

If you’re interested in a skewed look at life in a world that’s not quite this one, or wonder what it would be like if you did follow that crab into the side alley, you should definitely pick this up.

Manga the Week of 1/16/19

by Leave a Comment

SEAN: The third week of January has the most variety. What’s in it? Well…

Dark Horse gives us a 2nd volume of Wandering Island.

ASH: Oh, excellent! The first volume was lovely.

SEAN: Ghost Ship has more ecchi monsters with a 6th volume of Yokai Girls.

J-Novel Club revs it up after a brief winter break, with Amagi Brilliant Park 3, Demon King Daimaou 9, and Infinite Dendrogram 8.

Kodansha, in print news, has the 9th Clockwork Planet, the 5th Golosseum, the 11th Sweetness and Lightning, and a 2nd volume of Die Wergelder. There’s also Yamada-kun and the Seven Witches 17-18 – seems to be omnibuses now, after a long break.

MICHELLE: Hooray for more Sweetness & Lightning!

ASH: Yes, Sweetness & Lightning is a delight! I’ll also admit that I’m looking forward to the next volume of Die Wergelder in all its violent, pulpy glory.

MJ: I feel like I need to check out Sweetness & Lightning if both Ash and Michelle are such fans.

SEAN: Digitally we see Back Street Girls 7, Kira-kun Today 3, A Kiss For Real 6, Shojo FIGHT! 6, and Tokyo Revengers 3. I know which one of those Manga Bookshelf wants.

MICHELLE: Yep, though I also intend to read A Kiss for Real at some point.

ANNA: One of these days I will get caught up on Shojo FIGHT!.

SEAN: Seven Seas gives us, finally, the 2nd No Game No Life manga, which was delayed for years in Japan. There’s also a 5th Please Tell Me, Galko-chan!.

Udon has the 9th Persona 9… erm, Persona 4.

Vertical hits us with the 2nd APOSIMZ, and a 10th Mobile Suit Gundam Wing.

Lastly, Viz puts out its “cool person” titles, as we see Children of the Whales 8, Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction 4, Fire Punch 5, and Ultraman 11.

ANNA: Looking forward to Dead Dead Demon’s Dededede Destruction.

ASH: Same.

SEAN: I’m interested in quite a bit of that. How about you?

MICHELLE: A more modest amount, methinks.

Off the Shelf: Shoujoriffic!

by and 2 Comments

MICHELLE: Hey, MJ! You know what time it is. Time for my first really terrible joke of 2019. Are you ready?

MJ: Michelle, I was born ready.

MICHELLE: Okay, then. How do you find Will Smith in the snow?

MJ: Um. I don’t know, Michelle. How do you find Will Smith in the snow?

MICHELLE: You follow the fresh prints!

MJ: Okay, I know that was a terrible joke, but since I’m a pretty big fan of the Fresh Prince, I can’t help but appreciate it.

MICHELLE: It is exceedingly terrible but somehow it makes me happy! Anyways, we’ve once more dusted the cobwebs off the shelf because there’s some new manga we want to talk about. Would you like to go first?

MJ: I would! So, I just finished reading Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits, which was adapted from the light novel series of the same name and as such, comes with a slew of credits: art by Waco Ioka, original story by Midori Yuma, and character design by Laruha.

Aoi was adopted as a kid by a man named Shiro whom she describes as her grandfather. Shiro was a notorious philanderer, who wandered Japan fathering countless children with his many lovers, so he was hardly wanting for progeny of his own, but he raised Aoi faithfully, even providing for her college tuition after his death. Now alone, Aoi is prepared to make it on her own, but before she can even begin, she’s kidnapped by an ogre named Ōdanna, who whisks her away to the Ayakashi (spirit) world. As it turns out, Ōdanna is the proprietor of a well-respected inn, which Aoi’s grandfather once trashed on a bender. Unable to pay for the damage, Shiro promised Aoi’s hand in marriage as compensation, and Ōdanna’s come to collect. When Aoi refuses, she is offered the opportunity to work off the debt herself, but to do so, she has to find a job somewhere among the Ayakashi, most of whom hate humans, especially her grandfather.

Manga adaptations of light novels are not usually a big draw for me, but they’re also a bit of a rarity for Viz, so I figured it was worth a shot, especially since the supernatural setup is the type of thing I generally enjoy. My immediate reaction was regret. This adaptation begins with pages of narrated exposition that may work perfectly well in the novel but are clunky and awkward in manga form. The setup feels rushed, as though the artist knows that it’s awkward and wants to just push through it to get to the parts of the story that will be easier to tell, which unfortunately renders Aoi as a pretty generic protagonist with no personality in particular outside of a soft spot for Ayakashi and an interest in cooking.

Thankfully, the artist does seem to find their footing about halfway through the volume, and there are some fairly compelling mysteries set up, especially regarding a shape-changing nine-tailed fox named Ginji, who seems to be a friend. Or is he?

MICHELLE: My immediate reaction to your summary is that Shiro sounds like quite the asshole!

I’m sorry to hear that it gets off to a disappointing start. Are the mysteries sufficiently compelling that you think you’ll bother to pick up volume two?

MJ: Shiro indeed seems to have been quite the asshole, though certainly there is a lot of mystery surrounding him as well. For instance, he carefully taught Aoi how to avoid being kidnapped by an ogre, which would indicate that he never intended to surrender her as “payment” after all, and I get the sense that there’s more to the story than Aoi’s being told. And yes, I do think I’d give it at least one more volume. As lukewarm as this began, by the end I really did want to know what was going to happen next. Would Aoi find a job? Is Ginji as harmless as he appears? And what’s up with Akatsuki, the inn’s cranky general manager who really hated Shiro, and his adorably tousled hair?

Oh, and lest our shoujo-loving readers fear, despite being an ogre, Ōdanna is a total hottie with red eyes and cute little horns, which honestly is kind of a disappointment for me, but will probably sit well with the intended demographic.

MICHELLE: Probably. I should also note that a 26-episode anime version aired recently and is available on Crunchyroll last I heard.

MJ: I suspect that an anime adaptation might be more effective, especially for the exposition sections, so perhaps that’s the way to go. I will stick with the manga a bit longer, though!

So, would you like to share what you’ve been reading, Michelle?

MICHELLE: Continuing with the VIZ shoujo trend, I just finished the first two volumes of Shortcake Cake by a duo creating manga under the name suu Morishita. The series runs in Margaret, which is typically a very good indicator that I’m going to like it.

Ten Serizawa is from a very small town where local schools only go through junior high, so she’s had an extremely long commute for her first month of high school. Her long-time friend Ageha has been trying to persuade her to move into the boardinghouse where she lives and finally, after visiting the place, Ten agrees. Because this is shoujo manga, it turns out that the gorgeous, bookish boy that all the girls are obsessed with turns out to live there, too. His name is Chiaki Kasadera.

By the end of the second volume, it’s clear that Ten likes Chiaki, but how we get there is a pretty interesting and complicated route. One of the other boarders is a flirtatious boy named Riku Mizuhara, and he’s intrigued when Ten shuts down his attempts at flirtation. Soon, he’s developed a crush on her that she finds out about almost immediately. She rejects him and to his profound credit, Riku backs off. “I don’t want to pester her and make her hate me.” Chiaki, however, wants the two of them to be happy, so when Riku’s estranged little brother Rei—a wholly odious and imperious little shit who calls Ten by the name “Ugly”—commands Ten to be his girlfriend (just to make Riku miserable), Chiaki claims that he and Ten are actually dating, hoping that this pretend relationship will convince Rei that Riku is already suffering enough. Then, the kid will back off and maybe Riku and Ten can make it work.

Still with me? I grant that all these boys have feelings for Ten incredibly quickly—well, only Riku has officially admitted that he likes her, but I imagine it’s only a matter of time before Chiaki and Rei are forced to examine their real motivations—but at least she’s not an annoying protagonist. What’s really neat, though, is that we actually see inside the boys’ heads! This is exceedingly rare in shoujo manga, so a little bit of narration from a potential love interest goes a long way. I’m sure that it’ll be Chiaki in the end, but Riku is so thoroughly charming that I really want it to be him.

MJ: Okay, so from your summary, I admit that, like you, I’m currently a fan of Riku. I always like the boy who isn’t going to end up with the girl. It’s a lifelong curse. Mostly, though, I’m thinking that this sounds so gloriously shoujo, I must read it right away. I mean, seriously. A boardinghouse. I’m so here for this.

Is there other stuff going on besides the romantic drama? Like, at school?

MICHELLE: Not even a little. Ten’s mother only puts in a brief appearance to consent to the arrangement (though it’s at least suggested that her parents did go have a look around the place and all before she moved in) and school pretty much only exists as a backdrop for Chiaki and Riku to both attempt to walk Ten home so that she doesn’t get menaced by Rei. On the one hand, the protagonist having a well-rounded life is nice, but on the other hand, maybe it means we’ll be spared some of the by now too-familiar shoujo story beats like sports and cultural festivals.

MJ: Fair enough. Sounds like a fun read, in any case. I’ll definitely be digging into these volumes myself.

MICHELLE: I look forward to hearing what you think!

So, to conclude our VIZtacular trio, our mutual read this week was the first two volumes of Ao Haru Ride by Io Sakisaka, who also brought us Strobe Edge. Would you like to do the summation honors?

MJ: Sure! Here we go.

Futaba Yoshioka was a shy junior high school student with no interest in boys, except for Kou Tanaka, whose quiet sweetness mirrored her own. She thought something might happen between them, but when she turned up to meet Kou for a summer festival at his invitation, he never showed, and then his family moved away. Now, she’s in her first year of high school, and when she discovers that Kou is at the same school, she imagines them starting over. But the truth is, they are both so changed, they might as well be different people. He’s become a prickly underachiever to cope with his broken family life, and she’s become a tomboy to stay on the good side of her catty group of friends.

Then everything goes wrong, and Futaba finds herself friendless and isolated in a new class. But when she makes the rash decision to volunteer as class representative, she begins to find new friendships among a collection of loners, one of whom is Kou.

MICHELLE: Nicely done! This series ran in Bessatsu Margaret so, of course, I like it. There are a number of things about the initial setup that are pretty neat. For one, the action doesn’t start on the first day of Futaba’s first year but rather in the last semester, meaning she’s been at the same school with Kou for a very long time without noticing him. He’s in the honors class, which convenes on a different floor, but has definitely noticed her. Secondly, instead of the heroine starting friendless and gradually acquiring them (like Kimi ni Todoke or Waiting for Spring, to name but two recent examples), she starts with some friends. They’re just not really friends because she’s been duping them about who she really is. It’s true that both of those girls are not very nice, but I also appreciated that the dissolution of their friendship was not accompanied by mean-girl antics. Futaba just has to start over, and we’re shown glimpses of two other isolated girls who seem destined to become her true friends.

MJ: I’m struck by the differences between this and my first read here. This series, too, starts off with a lot of narration, but it’s utilized so effectively in Ao Haru Ride. Because Futaba is so shy, most of her thoughts are kept to herself, especially in the beginning, but instead of delivering an exposition dump, this narration is guiding us through Futaba’s realization about her crush on Kou and her interactions with other kids at school. We’re experiencing her thoughts and feelings much the way we would if she were the POV character of a YA novel, but only exactly as much as we need to. We’re shown what’s happened and told how she feels about it. This isn’t something that’s unique about the series at all—it’s exactly what we want to see in shoujo manga, and when it’s done well, it’s kind of invisible. But after reading Kakuriyo, I’m struck by how skillfully Sakisaka utilizes Futaba’s inner monologue.

MICHELLE: And some of the things she thinks are so poignant, too. She spends much of these volumes looking for signs of the old Kou and there’s one moment when she’s looking at him and thinks, “The nape of his neck is familiar but he sounds like a stranger. It makes me feel like crying.” Physically, someone she used to know and love is standing in front of her, but the connection they had has been cut off. I have been there and I thought Sakisaka captured that kind of feeling very well.

And then Kou rightly tells her, “You’re acting like you want to move forward, but you’re holding on to the past,” which I liked, as well. Eventually she decides that only his words are harsh, but that his heart is kind. I was glad she came to that realization in the second volume, because I didn’t want to keep rehashing the contrast to his past self and also, it’ll be nice to see Kou grow, as well.

MJ: Things do seem to happen in this series exactly when we most need them to. Just when I was becoming impossibly frustrated about Futaba’s attachment to the friend group that forced her to hide her true self, she broke free of them. And as you say, just as I was done with her mooning over the boy Kou used to be, she finally let that go as well. The pacing in these volumes is somehow exactly right.

Just as I was typing this up, I saw Shōjo Beat mention on Twitter that the third volume will be out next month, and I felt a surge of glee, so Sakisaka is definitely doing something right.

A bit of an odd confession: I admit that I’ve come to a place as a reader where I’m a bit bored by stories that lack queer characters, so from the beginning I found myself personally casting Kou as trans to help me get into it a little better. Queer readers, If you haven’t tried this with Ao Haru Ride, I wholeheartedly recommend it!

MICHELLE: That’s interesting, especially when he comes back with a whole new name and she keeps using the one he doesn’t identify with anymore!

I had a surge of glee when I was researching Sakisaka and read a little about her current series. Now I really want that one to be licensed here, too!

MJ: Yeah, I really didn’t expect that, but it did capture something poignant and relatable there.

I’d very much like to see more of Sakisaka’s work make its way here, so I guess we’ll cross our fingers!

To celebrate the return of Off the Shelf, MJ’s running a Shortcake Cake giveaway on Twitter! Follow the link to enter!

Accel World: Snow White’s Slumber

by

By Reki Kawahara and Hima. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jocelyne Allen.

I was a little grumpy with the last volume of Accel World. After feeling that the Armor of Catastrophe arc went on far too long (a fact the author also agreed with me on), seeing it return as a Mark II made me slap my hand to my forehead. Fortunately, we were near the end of this arc when it appeared, and so it’s taken care of in one volume, though not without considerable sacrifice. More importantly, there’s a lot of really interesting discussion about the nature of Accel World in general, as well as its forbears. Striving for a meaning and purpose in life is something we see a lot of in the real world, but in the Accel World, the meaning and purpose of life may actually be a tangible thing, given that it was created. What’s more, the nature of Metatron reminds me very much of the nature of Kizmel in Sword Art Online; a sense of “these supposed NPCs have gone way beyond what everyone thought they would do’.

A lot of this volume, given that Haruyuki is separated from Kuroyukihime, focuses on the relationship between him and Metatron, who would likely have risen up fairly high on the list of ‘harem candidates’ were it not for the events later in the book, and even so the epilogue shows there may be hope. I admit I could have done without the “I speak like a tsundere princess” thing, but I really did like the discussion they had, which also shows how clever Haruyuki is, piecing together stuff that’s been bubbling around inside his head for the last 15 volumes or so. She also gives him the strength to finish off the bad guys before they get even more powerful, and (hopefully) get ris of the ISS kits making everyone lose it in the real world as well, though that last part remains to be seen. Everyone else got a lot of good stuff to do as well, and there was some nice development of Nico, who gets her armor back… mostly. There’s even a heartwarming festival to end things!

Except that what most everyone will be talking about is the arrival of White Cosmos, the White King who we’d never seen before, the power behind the Accelerated Research Society, and Kuroyukihime’s real-life sister. Given this is a Kawahara villain, it’s no real surprise that her goal appears to be to drive everyone in the game to total despair. Subtlety is not why you read this author. I suspect that she’s mostly going to be used to drive character development for Kuroyukihime, who wisely (and with Haruyuki’s help) chooses not to fight her just now. And of course to contrast the ‘girl shrouded in black who’s really kind vs. girl who looks white and kind but is secretly manipulative and awful’. Again, subtlety is not on display here. But it makes for a nice, dramatic scene, and would look pretty cool animated.

Given that we’ve wrapped up a long arc here, I would not be surprised if the next volume is lighter in tone. In the meantime, fans of the series shold enjoy this new volume, especially the talk between Haruyuki and Metatron.

Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits, Vol. 1

by

One occupational hazard of reviewing manga is the powerful sense of déjà vu that a middle-of-the-road series can induce. I experienced just such a flash while reading Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits, a pleasant, decently executed shojo series that hit so many familiar beats I was tempted to pull out a bingo card and tick off the stock characters and situations as I plowed through volume one.

As in other supernatural romances — think InuYasha and The Water Dragon’s Bride — the plot is set in motion by the heroine’s abduction to the kakuriyo, or spirit realm. There, Aoi learns that her late grandfather was capable of traveling between the kakuriyo and utsushiyo (human world), a skill that gramps exploited to run up a tab at a supernatural B&B. Gramps pledged Aoi as collateral, promising her hand in marriage to Odanna, the inn’s proprietor. Odanna is — wait for it — a handsome jerk with an attitude so condescending that Aoi can barely stand to be in the same room with him. He’s also an ogre. (A real ogre, not a metaphorical one.)

Indignant at the prospect of marrying a monster, Aoi instead vows to settle her grandfather’s accounts by working at the inn, a vow made more complicated by the other demons’ refusal to hire human staff for even the most menial tasks. The creators have used Aoi’s predicament as an opportunity to graft elements of a cooking manga onto the main plot by furnishing Aoi with culinary skills so impressive that even denizens of the kakuriyo are wowed by her omelet rice and chicken stew. The inclusion of these scenes feels perfunctory, however, as they add little to our understanding of who Aoi is; if anything, these interludes serve mostly to foreshadow the inevitable moment in volume two or five when Aoi finally persuades the inn’s chef to update his menu with Japanese comfort food.

The real pleasure in reading Kakuriyo: Bed & Breakfast for Spirits is the parade of ayakashi (spirits). The supporting cast seem to have stepped out of a Hyakki Yagyō scroll: there are kappas and tengus and oni, no-faced women and nine-tailed foxes, all drawn in a style that explicitly references the work of Utagawa Yoshiiku and Kawanabe Kyosai. When interacting with Aoi, these spirits morph into preternaturally elegant humans swathed in Edo-era couture. It’s an effective gambit, allowing illustrator Waco Ioka to emphasize her strengths — fabrics, textures, masks — while offering a plausible explanation for the demons’ uncanny appearance. (Looking through one of gramps’ photo albums, Aoi notes that the ayakashi‘s “faces look fake, like they’re pasted on.”)

Yet for all the joys of seeing the Night Parade of 100 Demons come to life in such a stylish fashion, I was so aware of the plot mechanics that I could never fully embrace Kakuriyo as a story. Someone less steeped in the conventions and cliches of shojo manga, however, might well find Kakuriyo a charming introduction to one of the medium’s most ubiquitous and appealing genres: the supernatural romance.

The verdict: Librarians working with middle school readers might find Kakuriyo a good addition to their graphic novel collection, as it’s largely free of provocative content (e.g. strong language, sexuality) but will feel more “adult” to readers in grades 6-8 than other T-rated romances.

A review copy was supplied by VIZ Media.

KAKURIYO: BED & BREAKFAST FOR SPIRITS, VOL. 1 • ART BY WACO IOKA, ORIGINAL STORY BY MIDORI YUMA, CHARACTER DESIGN BY LARUHA • TRANSLATED BY TOMO KIMURA • RATED T, FOR TEENS (FANTASY VIOLENCE) • 196 pp.

After the Rain, Vol. 2

by

By Jun Mayuzuki. Released in Japan as “Koi wa Ameagari no You ni” in two separate volumes by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Big Comic Spirits. Released in North America by Vertical Comics. Translated by Jocelyne Allen.

As you might imagine given the title of the series is After the Rain, it rains an awful lot in this manga. This not only creates an appropriate atmosphere, but allows both of its protagonists to come down with bad colds. This causes both Akira and Kondo to lose control of their emotions a bit, allowing suppressed feelings to boil over – nothing going beyond hugging, mind you. No one is quite ready for this relationship to advance that far yet. (Well, Akira may want it to – her fantasies when she’s in bed with a cold verge close to a masturbatory scene.) Plus both Akira and Kondo have things in their life they need to work out first. Akira is still trying to untie herself from her previous track team life, despite her friend Haruka insisting they can still be friends. And Kondo has a hidden side – he writes. But doesn’t want anyone to find out about it.

It’s no coincidence that both of these plotlines resemble each other – our leads are very much alike despite the age difference. Akira is determined to move on from her injury, but feels like the only way she can do that is by completely cutting out that part of her life. This naturally upsets Haruka, who is reduced to tears hearing Akira essentially deny everything they had. As for Kondo, seeing Akira recommend a book by his college friend Chihiro brings up old memories, and causes him to reunite with said friend and discuss their old literature club, which also apparently had his ex-wife in it. The reunion allows him to give advice to Akira on her fight, which is, essentially, “even if you do never speak again, this will not change the precious moments you once had with each other”. Which is good, if non-confrontational, advice – I’m sort of rooting for Haruka here.

We also meet Akira’s father in this volume (complete with a great “stop telling people I’m dead!” joke), which is good, because it shows us that her dad really isn’t much like Kondo at all. (So he’s not a replacement father figure, which I was fearing.) She’s also a lot more outgoing with her dad, sort of like the flashbacks of her and Haruka that we see before the accident. Like most high school kids, she’s ready to grow up and be taken seriously as an adult, and is frustrated by people who still want to treat her as a kid – not realizing that the reason they’re doing it so much is they know they don’t have much time left to pamper her. She’s almost an adult, but you want to stop time just so that you can still have her need you in the same way. It amounted to my favorite chapter in the book.

This story continues to be a sweet, slow burn, and my misgivings about the May-December romance have faded a bit. More to the point, I just like the writing of the characters. Even if the romance doesn’t happen, I want to see what happens next in their life anyway.

Reborn as a Vending Machine, I Now Wander the Dungeon, Vol. 3

by

By Hirukuma and Ituwa Kato. Released in Japan as “Jidou Hanbaiki ni Umare Kawatta Ore wa Meikyuu wo Samayou” by Kadokawa Shoten. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Prowse.

This third volume of Reborn as a Vending Machine tries to expand the world that we’re in and give our hero a bit more insight into goals for the future. As we’ve seen, a lot of his “what should I do next” thoughts involve collecting points to level up, get new products, etc. Here, after a very amusing eating contest, Shui from the mercenary group wins the right to have Boxxo for the entire day, and takes him to the first floor of the dungeon, home to (try to contain your surprise) a group of poor yet plucky orphan children. The dungeon, it turns out, needs to have someone reach a certain level in order to get to the second floor. So for the unwanted kids, or whose whose parents have died, they have this. It reminds Boxxo to, if you’ll pardon me, think outside the box and realize this is a real life world he’s now in, not just a game RPG.

There’s also his relationship with Lammis, which continues to be chaste (he’s a vending machine) but still have that “I am a harem manga protagonist” feel to it. Lammis is clearly deeply in love with Boxxo, and as such will try to overcome her limits in order to stay by his side (she’s terrified of the supernatural, and the last half of the book involves nothing but that) and also gets easily embarrassed around him (she tries to hide her heavy period, which doesn’t work but does allow Boxxo to show off that he can also dispense sanitary pads). As for Boxxo, his emotions are still a bit flat, but it’s pretty clear he likes Lammis quite a bit. I’m not entirely sure where the series’ endgame is here, but am content with it simply being cute and chaste – it really does get pretty adorable.

Less adorable is the climax to the third book, where our heroes defeat a skeleton lord and then discover the demon behind the skeleton lord, who is vastly more powerful. For a moment I wondered if the book was actually going to kill off a few regulars – the villain actually stops Hulemy and Shui’s hearts, and you briefly think the book might be going in a dark direction. But no, it’s just an excuse for Boxxo to recall that AED stations can also be part of a vending machine, and that he can use that to save their lives. Also, he has telekinesis now, though we don’t get too much of a sense of how he’ll use that. Honestly, you don’t want this series getting too dark – it’s about a guy reincarnated as a vending machine – so I’m fine with his breaking out vaguely deus ex vending machina powers so that everyone is fine again.

While the series has a number of volumes after this in its webnovel version, Kadokawa hasn’t published a new volume in about two years, so this may be all the vending machine we see. (The author has been writing KonoSuba side story volumes, which may explain it.) Which is a shame, as despite its truly ridiculous premise I found myself drawn into each book, trying to see what would be happening next. I’ll miss you, Boxxo.