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By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by (among others) Kodansha, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. Translated by Zack Davisson.

It is interesting reading these old late 1960s Kitaro manga, showing off the wonders and terrors of yokai to a Japanese audience, now that we are in something of a yokai glut here in North America. Oh, yokai are never going to pass vampires, or even monster girls. But you get things like Kamisama Kiss, which puts yokai in a supernatural shoujo romance. And Natsume’s Book of Friends, almost a spiritual successor to Kitaro, as he walks around solving problems and getting involved despite himself. And of course there’s the Shonen Jump series Nurarihyon no Mago, which wasn’t a huge hit, but got over 20 volumes, so could be said to be a mild hit in Japan. It did alright here as well.

The Nurarihyon seen here on the cover is of the same type as Nura from the Jump manga (or, to be more accurate, Nura’s grandfather, who fits the stereotype better), but of course this Nurarihyon is not remotely a hero. He’s closer to the actual legend, an old man who walks into your house, drinks your tea, acts as if he owns the place, and leaves. Compared to the other yokai we see in this volume, he doesn’t have that many superpowers, but that just makes it all the more chilling when he gets rid of Kitaro and Nezumi Otoko so easily. Of course, Kitaro *is* the hero, so he manages to escape and trap Nurarihyon in a place he’s not going to be coming back from anytime soon. In fact, I would argue Kitaro’s solution is equally chilling.

These stories sometimes do feel their age, and not just due to the technology of the times. Kitaro is very much a morally ambiguous hero, getting involved when it looks as if humans are directly threatened with yokai but otherwise mostly getting pulled into things by the morally corrupt Nezumi Otoko, who even this early in the series has made his transition from rapscallion to scallywag, so to speak. He’s such a lovable creature you want to forgive him for being a greedy gluttonous and occasionally murderous swine. Oh yes, and somewhat sexist as well – one story has an old yokai try to seduce Nezumi Otoko merely as she’s watched a TV show with a May-December romance and wanted more fun in her life. Kitaro’s response amounts to “you are an ugly old woman, back where you came from!”, which left a sour taste in my mouth. Kitaro, at this point in the series, does not really reach for sentiment.

It does have plenty of creepy scares, though. The Wanyudo has always freaked me out a bit, and so seeing it in a story involving supposed lost diamonds made me shiver. And did I mention vampires earlier? Well, there’s one here, who’s employing Nezumi Otoko to find him fresh victims, but he runs afoul of a hair-based yokai who’s actually succeeded in possessing Kitaro (is this going to happen once a volume?). In essence, though, what we have here is Kitaro as he was at the height of his powers – warts and all. If you appreciate manga history, or just want a good spooky book for your kids, this is a great title to pick up.

By Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Jump Aquare. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Stephen Paul.

The creator team of Ohba and Obata has brought Japan and North America some of the most iconic manga out there in Death Note and Bakuman. In addition, Obata’s art has also been seen in Hikaru no Go, All You Need Is Kill, and, erm, School Judgment. OK, possibly not that last one, but otherwise, they’re all acknowledged hits and big influences. So I always feel guilty that I’ve never really warmed to any of them. I found Hikaru no Go pretty dull, Death Note’s nihilism wasn’t my bag, and Bakuman’s casual sexism rubbed me the wrong way. Yet hope springs eternal, and here they are with a new series. Can they build on the strengths of past works, or will I be grinding my teeth again?

A little of both, really. I’m not as familiar with Death Note as most other readers are, mostly as I didn’t warm to its premise so never really read it, but it strikes me that a lot of the same themes I hear that it had are cropping up here. Our hero, Mirai, begins the story as, sadly, many manga protagonists do, by resolving to kill himself. He ends up being saved by an angelic being, Nasse, who explains he’s been chosen to participate in a war of sorts to see who gets to become the next God. He also has powers to a) fly, and b) make someone fall madly in love with him… for 33 days. Naturally, there are other participants as well, from the sleazy (a guy who decides to use the love arrows for orgies) to the so-called moralistic (the guy who becomes a vigilante superhero), to the girl Mirai has a crush on (who is the cliffhanger ending).

Ohta and Obata love grey, morally ambiguous works, and this is no exception. The star of the volume is without a doubt Nasse, who would love it if Mirai simply used his newfound powers a lot more indiscriminately. She’s supposedly an angel, but is 100% fine with murder and other morally reprehensible acts. Luckily, Mirai isn’t, and after his first horrific but accidental use of his powers, tries to think seriously about what to do and how to use them carefully – especially as he realizes that the God War involves killing off every other candidate. Nasse, though, is fine with absolutely anything as long as it gives him “normal happiness”, whatever that is, because that’s what he wished for from the start. It’s really creepy, to be honest.

Where the manga succeeds is where all Obata manga succeed – the art is fantastic, with dynamic poses, violence and fanservice when it’s appropriate, and a nice ability to read the character’s emotions from their expressions rather than just the dialogue, something many other artists have issues with. And the premise looks like it could go to interesting places… or nasty ones. The odd morality of the angels, though, reminds me more of Franken Fran than anything else, and likely will determine if I continue this series or not.

By Natsuki Takaya. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialized in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Sheldon Drzka.

Fruits Basket is, in large part, about a family and its cycles of abuse, and how it makes everyone suffer and endure. That’s why it’s so nice to see, in this omnibus, that there are at least one or two of the main characters whose families are not torn apart by physical abuse, hatred, neglect, suicide, or death. Hanajima during her childhood is, unlike what I talked about with Hiro last time, going through something that the reader is not going to understand, and she really needs to have someone that’s in her corner besides her little brother. I love the fact that immediately after Hana decides to be friends with Tohru and Uo, despite the fact that she may hurt them, she gains control over her powers, as if a switch is flipped. And then there’s Hiro’s mother, who is not only the one Sohma who unreservedly loves her child, but is also pregnant again, which makes everyone happy because the kid can’t be cursed, as all the Zodiac exist already. (More on this later.)

There’s actually quite a lot of setup for future plots and pairings here, as clearly Takaya has been told that this is a big enough hit that she can take as much time as she wants. (Ironically, this is also where she hurt her hand, so a long hiatus came between the last volume and this one. The art style will eventually be greatly affected by this, but not just yet.) We meet another Sohma, but not via Tohru and her all-loving heart – this time it’s Uotani, who runs into a handsome yet absentminded young man in her part-time job and seems to fall for him immediately. (The fact that she says he reminds her of Tohru does not help Furuba’s yuri fans at all.) But Kureno seems to be more attached to Akito than the other Sohmas are, and therefore nothing really happens with it.

And then there’s Mayu, who we’ve met as the teacher of Tohru’s class, and were also told was close friends with Kana, Hatori’s lost love. Here we learn that she was in love with Hatori herself, but was so determined not to get in the way that she ended up dating Shigure, even though they’re clearly toxic for each other. (I suspect Shigure enjoyed this more… he seems to love toxic relationships.) Hatori is the stoic type who’s unable to grieve, and so Mayu is the one that grieves for him, for the life that he was never able to live. And Shigure is the manipulator who enjoys both messing with people for the lulz and also giving hem a push whether they want it or not. It’s quite interesting that this arc ends with a flashforward that shows Hatori and Mayu, many years later, together – things will change soon.

There is, of course, drama here as well, most of it stemming from the trip to the beachhouse the Sohmas take during their vacation. (We do meet Kyo’s father, and it is important to Kyo’s character, but he’s so unpleasant and awful I’d rather just not talk about him.) Hiro continues to lash out at things he finds annoying, and Tohru, who is effortlessly close to Kisa in a way he can’t seem to manage, is the biggest thing. It’s quite telling that Hiro is upset at Tohru’s obsession with her late mother – he’s the only one in the entire group who’s always had a warm and loving mother, and so he can’t possibly understand why she would be like this. Kyo, whose mother, it is heavily hinted, killed herself, gets Tohru far better, and immediately figures out that a) Tohru isn’t her usual self, and b) it’s probably because Hiro was rude. He’s maturing rapidly.

The book ends on an ominous note: Akito has followed the Sohmas and is at a neighboring beachhouse, and they all have to go visit – bar Tohru, who is thankfully not invited, and Kyo, who’s always excluded. Kisa being thankful Tohru won’t be there as she worries that Akito will abuse her is one of the saddest moments in the entire book, and will carry over directly into the next omnibus, where Akito decides to pay Tohru a visit after all. Again, if you haven’t read Furuba before, do so, and if you have, these omnibuses are a good opportunity for a reread.