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By Mengo Yokoyari. Released in Japan as “Kuzu no Honkai” by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the magazine Big Gangan. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by David Rowe-Caplan and Megan Denton.

This story begins in a very cute, heartwarming way, but I suspect the reader is not going to fall for it. The ‘scum’ in the title is the clue, and there’s also the cover art, showing our heroine, Hanabi, with her shirt mostly off, winking and sticking her tongue out at the reader. So when you discover almost right away that they’re actually both in love with their teachers (hers at least is her childhood “big brother” figure that she grew up with, but as always teacher/student romance is accepted far more by Japanese readers than Western ones), you aren’t particularly surprised. Mugi, the guy, and Hanabi are pretending to date while they pine away from someone else. And, because they’re both giant pots full of teenage hormones, they also take care of each other’s physical needs – there’s explicitly no going all the way, but there’s lots of making out and physical contact to a disturbing degree. It’s fascinating yet sordid.

I mentioned on Twitter while reading this volume that it’s like an evil mirror image of another Yen Press title, Love at Fourteen. That one also deals with a first time student romance, and also features an awkward teacher student relationship. But while equally realistic, and occasionally has the odd crisis, it is for the most part cute and heartwarming. You like these kids and want them to be together. Scum’s Wish shows us a relationship of convenience that isn’t good for either one of the couple, but you still end up rooting for them, as while they’re not all that sympathetic, they’re both very likeable. Hanabi especially grew on me, especially when it became clear that she was not going to be a meek and passive victim here. She’s actually somewhat cynical and snarky, something she tries to hide from her teacher whenever possible, and can be quite possessive, not just of her real love, but even of her fake one.

Towards the end we also meet a new girl who seems completely out of place to the somber, bittersweet anti-love story going on here. I loved her to bits. Moka first appears in a flashback where we’re getting an otherwise depressing but well told backstory for Hanabi, and we see her as a spoiled brat princess sort. Come high school, that hasn’t changed. If anything, she’s got a bad case of Eighth Grader Syndrome, demanding to be called Moka instead of Noriko and describing Mugi as her Prince Charming come to take her away from all this. You’d think she would be horribly wrong for a series like this one, but she actually releases the tension that’s built up from the start, and I find her nuttiness soothing. I also loved Hanabi’s casual threat to her, not letting her even get a toehold in between the fake relationship he’s built up.

I’m not sure that I’m going to love where this goes, and I fear it will be one of those sorts of series I call ‘potboiler’. But some potboilers are fascinating for all the right reasons, and Scum’s Wish caught my eye from the start and didn’t let it go. Good art, too, capturing the sensuality and furtiveness that most teen romance writers tend to forget is the majority of what’s going on there. Definitely recommended, provided you don’t mind feeling you need to wash up afterwards.

By Tomo Takeuchi | Published by Kodansha Comics

In the immortal words of Sir Paul McCartney:

Ballroom dancing made a man of me
One, two, three, four
I just plain adore your
Ballroom dancing, seen it on TV
I got what I got from ballroom dancing
Big B.D.

Feckless Tatara Fujita isn’t especially good at anything, and doesn’t know what he wants to do after middle school. One day, as bullies are hitting him up for cash, he is saved by Kaname Sengoku, who mistakes Fujita’s perusal of a poster advertising a part-time job for interest in an adjacent dance studio ad. Fujita is summarily whisked away to the studio, where he learns that one of his classmates, seemingly studious Shizuku Hanaoka, is not only a student there but one of the top amateurs in the sport.

For, indeed, this is a sports manga. Once Fujita sees a recording of Sengoku in action, he vows to change. To him, dancing is (not yet anyway) about personal expression but about self-improvement. He wants to gain poise and self-confidence, and once he decides that’s what he’s going to do, he works very hard. This isn’t one of those manga where the protagonist has some great talent, for even after weeks of lessons, he’s still not great, but there’s a glimmer of something about him that intrigues Sengoku. When he and Fujita later attent a tournament that Hanaoka is competing in, Sengoku taps Fujita to fill in when her long-time partner mysteriously disappears.

Although I don’t often comment on the art in manga, I found Welcome to the Ballroom to be quite interesting in that department. It almost seems a bit shoujo at times, with the lovely way the dancing is depicted, but then it must remind you that it’s shounen by throwing in a panty shot. I also found it refreshing that the cute love interest doesn’t stay on the sidelines or manage the team—she’s very talented and focused, with dreams of her own. (Lamentably, her ambitious plans to study abroad are later revealed to be for the benefit of her partner.)

I’m excited by the prospect of the world championship qualifying tournament that’s coming soon, though I hope we see it in more detail than the introductory glimpses we’ve had thus far. Alas, there are not thirty-plus volumes of this to look forward to either, since the series is on hiatus after eight volumes in Japan. Nevertheless, I do recommend it and look forward to more!

Welcome to the Ballroom is up to eight volumes in Japan, where it is presently on hiatus. Kodansha will release the second volume later this month.

By Fujino Omori and Suzuhito Yasuda. Released in Japan as “Dungeon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatte Iru Darou ka? Gaiden – Sword Oratoria” by Softbank Creative. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Gaippe.

First of all, boy is that title unwieldy. It’s certainly an accurate translation of the Japanese, though ‘Side Story’ might be more accurate. It’s a way to let the reader know this is not part of the main series dealing with adventurer Bell Cranel and his goddess Hestia. Instead, this series will focus on Bell’s idol and inspiration, Aiz Wallenstein, and the adventures of her Familia under Loki. Aiz has been something of a cipher throughout the series, so it’s great to see her get more focus, even if she gets a bit less development than I expected.

Most of that is simply due to the function of her personality – Aiz is not stoic, as she’s seemed in some of the main series novels, but she is very emotionally repressed. We get a bit of her backstory here, though it’s seen in a dream, so is very vague, and she admits to herself that one reason she takes such an interest in Bell (this novel takes place at the same time as the events in Book 1 of the main series) is that he reminds her of the way she was as a little girl. We also get some good examples of how she fights alongside her team in a much lower level than Bell has ever been to, and to no one’s surprise, she is miles above everyone else – even her own badass partners.

The other girl on the cover is Lefiya, a Level 3 elf who fills the role of the newbie in this book. Admittedly, being Level 3, she’s miles above where Bell and his companions are in the main series. However, when you’re a Level 3 surrounded by Level 5s, you tend to feel useless, especially when you only do magic and are easily distracted. As you’d expect, she gets a few failures at the start of the book, and a big success right at the end – she has a bit of a rulebreaking power, and isn’t afraid to use it to save her friends. She’s also possibly gay, though as ever in Japanese media, the line between lesbian and just akogare is deliberately obfuscated – honestly, I suspect it’s the latter.

As I noted earlier, the book takes place at the same time as the first in the main series, and gives us some extra insights – Bete, the drunken lout who insulted Bell in the first volume, showed that he was VERY drunk when he did this, and feels horrible about it. He is a jerk, but not THAT much of a jerk. And Loki and Freya have some very interesting conversations which read better now that we’ve seen future volumes, and show off just how capricious these gods are. And just as Freya is sort of kind of the main antagonist in the series to date, the side story gets Dionysus, who I’m pretty sure we’ll be seeing more machinations from in the future, as he sets a dangerous monster on the Loki team and almost kills everyone there.

This is not quite as good as the main series, as you can sort of hear the author working a bit too hard to connect the dots to fit this book in seamlessly with the main series. But it’s still a lot of fun, and Danmachi fans will absolutely enjoy it. I’m hoping we continue to learn more about Aiz and Loki Familia as we go along.

By Kazuhiro Fujita. Released in Japan as “Kuro Hakubutsukan” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Morning. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Zack Davisson.

Kazuhiro Fujita is one of the more famous Japanese manga artists that have never been published in North America till now. Part of the reason is that his two main series, Ushio and Tora and Karukiri Circus, both suffer from being over 30 volumes long and, even worse, being a Shonen Sunday series, a notoriously difficult sell over here for anyone not named Rumiko Takahashi. Fujita’s titles tend to have a supernatural bent, and this one is no different, an anthology series he wrote for the seinen magazine Morning about a museum of oddities and its beautiful but very eccentric curator. One night a ghost arrives to tell his story, which involves a young woman named Florence Nightingale who can see spirits, and is begging for death…

While there are a few creepy moments, at heart this is not really a horror series. This is about a young woman who is tormented by the strictures of society who is able to move past it and find new determination with the help of her new bodyguard, who just happens to be a ghost. the ghost, The Man in Grey (referred to as ‘Grey” by Florence), is a former duellist with a love of the theatre. Florence comes to him because she can see Eilodons, invisible creatures that lurk over everyone and seem to take in all their anger, hatred, fear, etc. Florence not only sees them but knows she has one of her own, which is tormenting her. She makes a deal with Grey to kill her – but he doesn’t want to do it yet, preferring to wait till she’s at her deepest moment of despair. Which will surely come along. Really soon. Any day now.

Those familiar with the story of Florence Nightingale may be laughing up their sleeve a bit by now, and indeed most of the humor in this series involves the ghost getting increasingly frustrated at Florence’s sheer spunk and determination – there are several moments when he could easily kill her, but she’d just die happily and at peace, and what’s the point of that? So instead he assists her to occasionally attack other eilodons that are in opposition to her (her parents, etc.), but mostly to act as a sounding board and snarky narrator of asides. Meanwhile, Florence manages to succeed at her true calling, nursing, and ends up in the middle of the Crimean War… where she runs into Le Chevalier D’Eon, who is not only also a ghost, but is surely delighted to be featuring in yet another Kodansha series released in North America. (No, it’s not a crossover, D’Eon is a real historical figure.)

I don’t have much to analyze here except that this is a solid, well-written book that had me turning the pages rapidly. The art is at its best with the expressions, be they Grey’s increasing frustration, Florence’s shift from hollow-eyed and suicidal to determined and powerful, or even the increasingly loopy and amusing reactions of the curator of the Black Museum, who I hope we see more of. (There is also a fair bit of nudity, be warned – it is a seinen series.) It’s also a handsome hardcover of about 300 pages long, and the translation is of course excellent. It’s just a great example of why this artist is so popular in Japan, and I am greatly looking forward to the second (and final?) volume.