By NISIOISIN, illustrations by take. Released in Japan as “Kubikiri Cycle: Aoiro Savant to Zaregototsukai” by Kodansha. Released in North America by Vertical, Inc. Translated by Greg Moore.
I had thought that I had reviewed this volume when it first came out almost ten years ago from Del Rey books. But no, I hadn’t quite begun my blog yet, though I have reviewed the second (and sadly last) book in the series. But of course that was almost ten years ago. Since then I’ve gotten obsessed with Medaka Box, and I finally joined the herd in getting obsessed with the Monogatari series. So I was ready to revisit the first in Nisioisin’s Zaregoto series, which is finally getting an anime in Japan after so many years. (It also never had a manga, except for an original story spinoff.) If you’re familiar with Nisio’s later works, you’ll find much here that’s familiar, particularly the idea of what “geniuses” are. But those works lack the most important element of these books, and that’s the narrator, Ii-chan.
Nisio loves to take his main characters and have them disparaged, either by the narration himself or by other characters. But usually it’s the other characters that get all the attention. In Medaka Box Medaka is not remotely the most popular character with fans, and I doubt you’ll find many Monogatari fans saying Koyomi is “best girl” either. Zaregoto is all about Ii-chan, though. His seemingly deadpan narration, his seeming stoicism, his seeming need to not care about anything that happens to him or what anyone thinks of him. Seeming being the repeated word, because it’s pointed out repeatedly by the entire cast just how much nonsense his entire attitude is. Which is, of course, the point: he is the “nonsense user” of the subtitle, and at times he almost seems to utter it like a mantra, usually when it’s becoming too apparent that’s he’s slipping out of character.
Ii-chan (real name never given throughout the series, much like Kyon) is the friend and minder of a technological genius, Tomo Kunagisa, who’s been invited to a remote island by an eccentric ex-heiress who likes surrounding herself with these sorts of types. Of course, if the words “remote island” seem suspicious to you, you’ve probably guessed that someone is murdered while they’re there. Now Ii-chan, who is merely a normal boy among all these geniuses, must solve the crime. And that’s a lie as well, as we’re told that Ii-chan himself went to an exclusive school in America just for geniuses, though he maintains that it doesn’t count because he dropped out. Also, despite professing a bad memory and ignorance of many basic principles, he’s quoting obscure philosophy and literature throughout. He is a lying liar who lies, and by the end of the book you can see why many in the story are disgusted with him. He won’t try. He refuses to strive. He goes with the flow. Except of course that is not completely true either. He just wishes it was.
There is a lot of backstory given here, some of which comes up again later in the series and some of which does not. Ii-chan talks about a child who was not allowed to have any contact with the outside world for the first ten years of their life, but it’s unclear if he means Kunagisa or himself. Certainly Kunagisa seems to suffer from a case of arrested development – she’s supposedly the same age as Ii-chan, who’s about to start college, but looks and acts about eleven years old. She’s also the head of a former cyber-terrorist group that terrified the world while also advancing its tech beyond most people’s wildest dreams. And she and Ii-chan are clearly used to corpses and investigating – one of the funniest parts of the book is their blank disbelief at why Yayoi is so upset and edgy – after all, it’s just a murder.
Honestly, the murder mystery is possibly the least interesting part of the book – again, not uncommon with this author, where frequently you read things for the dialogue or narrative tone rather than what’s actually happening. I’d actually say it’s overly complex, with two too many twists and turns at the very end – I think Nisio agreed with me, as around the 3rd book in the series he simply stopped making the books mysteries at all. That said, I still love and highly recommend the book, if only for its fascinating and frustrating narrator. And I’m hoping it does well enough that Vertical might put out the second in the series, which is even better.
My name is Saitama. I am a hero. My hobby is heroic exploits. I got too strong. And that makes me sad. I can defeat any enemy with one blow. I lost my hair. And I lost all feeling. I want to feel the rush of battle. I would like to meet an incredibly strong enemy. And I would like to defeat it with one blow. That’s because I am One-Punch Man.
The balancing act ONE and Murata achieve here is impressive. On the one hand, One-Punch Man is gloriously silly. Heroes and foes alike are apt to be ludicrous, and some of the former have terrific names like Tank Top Vegetarian or Spring Mustachio (although I actually think he’s pretty cool). On the other hand, there is a lot of excellent shounen manga storytelling going on. The way Saitama lives his life without criticism for others makes me think he’d get along well with One Piece‘s Luffy, and the devotion his pupil Genos shows for him means they can always rely on each other. Too, after Saitama joins the Hero Association, we get regular updates on how his rank is improving, and this puts him in contact with even more heroes, some of whom are inept, some of whom are capable, and one of whom might actually be an enemy. He doesn’t seek glory, so many are unaware of his true strength, but I assume that eventually he will attain the rank he deserves (currently, due to poor performance on the written test, he’s far below Genos).
As of volume eleven, there are several plotlines in play. Monsters are appearing everywhere, and appear to be organizing. Is this tied in with the prediction of an extinction-level event within the next six months? What about that hint of a possible traitor that was dropped a few volumes back? While a rogue martial artist named Garo is hunting heroes, Saitama is off at a martial arts tournament to learn more how to defeat Garo (not knowing that he totally already did) and seems destined to face off against another strong fighter who is desperate for a challenge. I admire how this story has widened in scope in a natural way, without compromising the balance of narrative and humor. It could conceivably go on for a very long time, and I deeply hope it does.
and 
) by Rihito Takarai, published here by SuBLime. From what I understand, the series has reached five volumes (ongoing) in Japan. The third volume is due out from SuBLime next month. 
Shirotani is a lifelong germaphobe, resigned to his condition, though it keeps him isolated from others. Fortunately, with the help of his understanding employer, he is able to tolerate his job as secretary to a corporate CEO. It is in the corporate line of duty, then, that he first meets Kurose, a therapist at a local mental health clinic. Kurose notices Shirotani’s condition immediately, and suggests he seek help, but though Shirotani is able to make his way to the clinic, he can’t bring himself to go inside. Acknowledging this difficulty, Kurose offers to help him in a non-clinical capacity, as a friend, an arrangement to which Shirotani eventually agrees. As Kurose slowly helps him accomplish progressively difficult tasks (touching a doorknob with his bare hand, buying a book from a bookstore), the two become close in ways that complicates their relationship and threatens the fragile boundaries between them. 
MICHELLE: Another thing that strikes me about the questions Kurose poses is how detached and clinical they can seem, even after a sexual act. One example is, “Were you more concerned with the possibility that I found you unpleasant than whether or not you found the situation itself unpleasant?” Leaving aside the tacit admission that he knows Shirotani could’ve been finding the situation unpleasant, attempting to reassert the therapist/patient dynamic at such a moment is, well, kind of creepy.