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By Arina Tanemura. Released in Japan as “Kamikaze Kaitou Jeanne” by Shueisha, serialized in the magazine Ribon. Released in North America by Viz.

There are spoilers here, FYI for those who want to avoid them.

I’d mentioned in previous reviews of this title that it’s a standard magical girl series with a core of darkness. Of course, that applies to most magical girl series, to a greater or lesser degree – Madoka Magica did not invent the genre, they only removed the optimism. Jeanne’s background as a parentless child has been a core of the series, and we’ve also seen how difficult it is for her and Chiaki to trust each other given they’re on opposite sides. This new volume takes us even further down the rabbit hole, giving us dead, sexual assault, and a shocking plot twist that pretty much alters everything we’ve seen to this point.

What seems to be the big event of this volume happens with the arrival of a new teacher, Hijiri. He’s the one who saw Maron at the end of the last volume, and he’s not afraid to take advantage of that. He also seems to know far more about what Maron is doing as Jeanne regardless of whether he saw her or not. This culminates in a fight over the next victim, an isolated dying boy whose demon is the only thing keeping him alive. The boy, Zen, naturally falls for Jeanne (we still have to obey the rules of the genre here) and Maron is desperate to find a way to keep him alive and still not have the evil consume him. This is not helped by Sinbad, who, having had something explained to him offscreen by his magical familiar (we conveniently don’t hear it) is more determined to stop Jeanne than ever.

The aftermath of what happens devastates Jeanne and she’s clearly unwilling to discuss it with Chiaki. This is exactly what Hijiri wanted, as he turns out to be a figure from her past… no, not Maron’s past, Jeanne’s past as Joan of Arc. This culminates in the most disturbing scene in the volume, even worse than the cliffhanger, where Hijiri attempts to rape Maron in order to seal off her powers (which are said to be only due to her virginity). This scene goes on for quite some time, and I’d actually put a trigger warning on the volume for those who want advance knowledge. Unfortunately, while Hijiri does get beaten up and stopped, he does not leave the plot or Maron’s life, which is rather annoying.

Finally, everything seems to be resolving. Chiaki doesn’t outright say he loves Maron, but he comes close. They go on what is clearly a date, even if it’s because he promises to “tell Maron everything” – in fact, it’s such a date that Miyako, who was spying on them, flees the scene, finding herself more devastated that she’s not the closest one to Maron right now than that Chiaki is in love with someone else. Unfortunately, Chiaki then tells Maron something that she absolutely does not believe – so much so that she returns to her apartment just to verify it’s not true. But it is true – Jeanne has not been collecting chess pieces for good, but for evil! The revelation comes out of nowhere to a certain degree – not that Maron is being deceived, but who’s doing the deceiving, as Finn has been mostly an annoying ditzy mascot to this point. But there was some signposting, and we still have 2/5 of the series to go, so I’m sure we’ll see what’s going on.

There’s a lot of Arina Tanemura out there thanks to Viz, and I’ve never really been grabbed by much of it. This is the exception. Phantom Thief Jeanne is shaping up to be her best work, though, with thrills, romance, humor (Maron’s obsession with getting swine flu here is highly amusing) and a very deep plot. It’s a fantastic license rescue, and I can’t wait for the next volume.

By Yomi Hirasaka and Itachi. Released in Japan as “Boku wa Tomodachi ga Sukunai” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

Much as I try to tell my readers whether or not they will enjoy a particular volume or series, in the end this is still my review blog where I mostly review to my tastes. I tend to like most of what I review. And my taste can be unpredictable from series to series. I do sometimes wonder about it. Why am I OK with fanservice in Cage of Eden or Negima when it drives me nuts in Food Wars or Monster Musume? Sometimes predicting what I like doesn’t really work. Usually a series I think I’ll dislike or drop early turns out to have some hidden depth or plotline or characterization that I latch on to, and suddenly it’s on my ‘surprisingly good’ list.

No series typifies this more than Haganai: I Don’t Have Many Friends. I decided to review this new volume, the 7th in the series, mostly as I saw that the ALA convention had a Best/Worst manga of the last three years panel. This is thankfully mostly dedicated to spectacular manga that the panelgoers may not have seen, but there is a section devoted to, shall we say, the bottom feeders. The results were both surprising and non. The surprising was Bakuman, which I knew had a healthy crowd that disliked its ongoing issues with sexism (including me – I dropped it early), but I wasn’t aware it was that healthy. The other two titles, Haganai and High School DxD, were firmly in the otaku harem grenre.

I get this. The harem genre is far more popular in Japan than it is in the US, and has large inherent sexism issues, just like Bakuman. It tends towards blatant fanservice, generic ‘nice’ heroes, and heroines who tend to fall into very obvious types. And no argument about High School DxD, whose first volume I was sort of lukewarm to but additional research has shown I’ll likely be dumping it pretty soon. That said… c’mon, voters, Haganai over Mayo Chiki? Over Triage X? Over I Don’t Like You At All, Big Brother!!? Is it just Haganai’s increased visibility?

I have perhaps chosen a non-typical volume with which I defend my enjoyment of Haganai. This particular volume does not have Kodaka’s gothloli younger sister in it at all, and the other resident loli, Maria, makes only a token appearance (though a cliffhanger implies Vol. 8 may be quite different). And Sena does not run through the pages naked with her breasts bouncing up and down in a grotesque parody. Instead, for the most part, this deals with the aftermath of Yozora cutting her hair, and subsequent jogging of Kodaka’s memories.

There’s still plenty of humor here, which is (more than the harem possibilities) the main reason to read Haganai. Yozora’s becoming a “pretty boy” to troll Maria is wonderful, Yozora and Rika trolling an oblivious Sena into a truly ridiculous hairstyle is magnificently over the top, and the entire parody of yaoi manga artwork is worth the price of the book alone. That said, the best parts of this volume are showing off how close the “not friends” have become, or seeing their vulnerability.

Yozora gets the bulk of the pages here, and it’s sweet yet also depressing seeing her inability to socialize, which is far more crippling than Kodaka and Sena’s simple mild personality quirks. A bonus chapter shows is the events of the start of the series from her POV, and her frustration is palpable. I also liked Sena’s immediate acceptance of Yozora’s new hair, and though she attempts to bully her about it it’s really a token attempt – these two are actually getting along quite well now. And Rika with her glasses off is actually briefly vulnerable, before the front comes slamming back up.

I get why folks would dislike Haganai, and admit it’s not for everyone. But there’s a lot of depth, humor and heart here, and compared to some of the other titles we’ve seen lately in the same genre, I can’t agree it’s among the worst. I’ve come to greatly enjoy this series. Now we’ll see if I can still say the same after what promises to be a loli-nun heavy Vol. 8.