Features & Reviews

By Satoko Kiyuduki. Released in Japan as “Hitsugi Katsugi no Kuro – Kaichu Tabi no Wa” by Houbunsha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Manga Time Kirara. Released in North America by Yen Press.

Sometimes, when I’m reading a series with as much ambiguity as this one, I find it difficult to discern which parts I should be picking apart as clues to what’s going on, and which parts I should just let wash over me as part of the overall mood. That’s slowly starting to go away – we get more information on Kuro, Sen and the witch here than in any previous volume – but there’s still large chunks of the story where I feel like I’m trying to connect the dots without a pencil. Luckily, the style and mood of the series are still superior, so it’s an excellent read even if I am sometimes baffled at what’s really going on.

The volume opens right away with a lot more info than previous ones, as we see a young, grumpy man meet a cute young girl who he reluctantly takes in as his apprentice. The girl is clearly meant to be a young, innocent(ish) Kuro, but the man eludes us at first, until the horrific cursing itself, which we finally see in a bit more detail, and which rebounds horribly on not just Kuro but her master as well. After this flashback, the story (seemingly) picks up where it left off in Volume 3, with Kuro still in a coma and Nijuku and Sanju patiently waiting for her while trying to deal with the fact that her face is starting to fade in their young memories the longer they wait.

Kuro has never been a bright and upbeat series (it’s a contrast with the overtly happy and content GA Art Design Class), but this volume really seem to go above and beyond by dwelling on Kuro’s search for the one who cursed her, which also ties into what is clearly Kuro’s deathwish. We see several stories with Kuro traveling by herself, meeting people who are going on a long train journey, and she plans to go with them but doesn’t seem optimistic. Sure enough, as the train is about to leave she realizes she suddenly left her hat and coffin – which she never lets leave her sight – outside on the platform. You don’t have to read Night of the Galactic Railroad to know what this is a metaphor for.

Once awake and recovered, Kuro’s journey continues, but even then it seems to be a bit more fatalistic. She meets a young girl waiting for her parents who have never come home, and helps convince her to move on with her life. We see a long forgotten kingdom that destroyed itself in search of a perfection that doesn’t actually exist. And Sanju gets a nasty lesson regarding the fragility of things that are not her when she rips the arm off another girl’s cat by “playing too hard”, and they have to deal with the consequences. Kuro makes it very clear in this book that the two young girls she travels with are her “baggage” keeping her tied to this world, far more so than finding the witch who cursed her, and one worries what will happen when they finally have to part.

Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro comes out so infrequently that it can be a hard series to connect with at times, but when you do it rewards the connection handsomely, being thoughtful, intelligent, moody, and somewhat depressing. Kuro’s heavy coffin is a metaphor, but it’s also real, and seeing her without it feels deeply wrong. I do wonder if the next volume might be the last – we seem like we’re near the end of our journey. There will likely be a long wait till we find out, though.

By Nagaru Tanigawa and Puyo. Released in Japan as “Nagato Yuki-chan no Shoushitsu” by Kadokawa Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Young Ace. Released in North America by Yen Press.

In my last review of this title, I seemed somewhat grumpy. The manga had gotten to a place that seemed ideal to wrap up, but trundled past and kept going anyway, with any love confessions quietly brushed under the carpet. I have no doubt that, with the main manga having ended in Japan, and no light novels or anime on the horizon, there is strong impetus to keep the remaining cash-cow spinoffs running. That said, I enjoyed this volume a lot more than the last, as Puyo settles in to do what he does best: take the Haruhi characters, soften them and give them alternate traits without quite turning them into another person, and write as many heartwarming, smile-inducing scenes as possible.

I had discussed Kyon’s confession (and Yuki not hearing it) last time, and while I’m annoyed he backed off, I’m pleased to see that his experience with the alternate Nagato has affected him. He can’t pretend to go out with Sasaki, even if it’s to help her deal with a guy that’s being too forward, because it wouldn’t be right to Nagato’s feelings. Not the Nagato he knows, but the alternate Nagato. This is very Kyon, and nice to see in a series which lacks his sarcastic inner monologue and thus sometimes has him be more of a cipher than necessary. As for Sasaki, like the rest of the female cast, she seems to be aware she loves Kyon but unwilling to admit it directly. You get the sense that the ‘date me to fend off my admirer’ plan was a bit of a ruse.

Possibly the funniest moment in the series involves Mikuru, another character who’s been reduced to a minor role in this spinoff due to the AU. Here she sees Nagato trying to decide what to do about Kyon seemingly having a better choice in Sasaki, and plays up the part of the wise older student, telling Yuki that jealousy is a perfectly valid feeling to have. That said, when Yuki asks how best to approach Kyon, Mikuru gradually falls apart, as it’s clear she has little to no experience in that area either. (Yuki and Mikuru in this series are somewhat defined by the friendship they have with more extroverted, pushy people who spur them on.) Mikuru being a “failure as a sempai” is hilarious, and Yuki’s response to this is sweet.

Haruhi spends most of the volume on the edges, as she’s pissed off at Kyon and Yuki for not letting her do a band with the literature club. Interesting, the ENOZ thing happened at last year’s cultural festival, where Haruhi was just a visitor, only with Tsuruya playing the brilliant guitarist. Even more interestingly, she gets Mikuru to willingly join the band on tambourine for this year (Mikuru is less shell-shocked by Haruhi here, even if she still has confidence issues). This all leads up to the last scene in the book, though, where Haruhi goes to get Ryoko to make sure she attends the concert. Ryouko snarks on her bunny outfit, but the important thing is Haruhi willingly thanking her for taking care of getting the band on the schedule, and Ryouko saying she did it as a friend, not as a class rep. (Also, ship tease out the wazoo, but that’s just me.)

I haven’t even gotten into all the tiny little Haruhi refs buried in here (I wonder if the Endless Eight joke was in the original Japanese…), or the fact that of COURSE Kuyou is at Haruhi and Sasaki’s school in this AU, and of COURSE she’s meek and shy just like Yuki is, and of COURSE she has an adorable meet cute with Taniguchi. This is not exactly a series to read if you want surprise, or, if I’m being honest, depth. But it’s got a good heart, which is pretty much its entire reason for being, and in that respect fulfills the reader’s needs. Haruhi fans should be pleased once more.

By Satoko Kiyuduki. Released in Japan by Houbunsha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Manga Time Kirara Carat. Released in North America by Yen Press.

As ever, one reason that GA is probably my favorite “4-koma about girls in a school setting and their daily lives’ manga is the art school setting. Art pervades the entire title, and we get explanations of art history each time by the cast, who are trying to understand it themselves. This volume it’s the periods of art history, ranging from the Ancient Greeks to the Renaissance to Baroque and Rococo periods, with each represented by a cast member in the appropriate pastiche. If a point needs to be made that falls outside the scope of modern life, we can have the cast members having a dream, which Kisaragi (typically) does at the start, and Namiko (far less typically) does later on. The characters’ eccentricities drive the comedy, but art drives the plot. (Such as it is – this is still a 4-koma at heart.)

Speaking of the characters’ eccentricities, this series usually has one chapter per volume that takes a closer look at quiet, reserved Miyabi, and this one is no exception. When asked to identify student’s artwork from a random selection, hers is the first they pick out, because it’s the best. As we discover, she’s been talented her entire life, but getting told that she’s good in everything she does has become somewhat meaningless to her, to the point where she seeks out advice from a teacher. Miyabi has a lot of other issues North American readers don’t have to deal with (her impending arranged marriage, for one), but I think many will feel for her here, and be intrigued by her obsession with the color black, which has mostly been used comedically in the past. Of course, it’s Kisaragi who ends up pulling her out of her funk – the two have the deepest bond among the cast.

The other chapter that really caught my eye was the one that traveled back in time to 1972, looking at a period when the school’s fashion department was separate from the art school. We see five students – who of course look amazingly like our own cast, but with different names and slight variations – dealing with their own issues, mostly revolving around current trends in fashion. They try to imagine what the school uniform will look like in 2014, and come quite close to Kisaragi’s own uniform. This odd time machine-like chapter is one reason why I never really get tired of GA despite its comedy antics – there’s always a new perspective on things.

There are also typical school plots here, though done with an art school touch. In the athletic competition, they have to create art to be used, and one boy overdoes it with a giant paper mache crane (which ends up, by various wacky events, becoming more of a riceball). The best gag here is probably the relay race and its resolution, which relies on family resemblance. Towards the end we have the school festival, where Awara and her art club members are pulling out all the stops in creating a 3D art exhibit, and rope in Kisaragi and her friends to help. It’s nice to see the groups, which rarely interact within the series, coming together like this – something lampshaded by Awara herself.

The usual caveats apply – if you don’t like 4-koma comedies with lots of one-liners and cute but eccentric girls, this will not change your mind. If you do but are a bit tired of the sameness, give GA a try. If nothing else, you’ll learn about art.

By Kazue Kato. Released in Japan by Shueisha, stories collected from various Jump one-shots. Released in North America by Viz Media.

Rabbits. There’s no helping it, that’s the one thing I take away most from this collection of short stories by the author of Blue Exorcist. There are romances, action adventures, tragic minimalist studies, and amusing comedies, but the rabbits seem to pervade the work. The author clearly likes her rabbits. Once you get past that, though, you’re left with a solid collection that nevertheless tells you what should be obvious: this is a hodgepodge of stories that together helped her write Blue Exorcist, which is better than all of them and her strongest work. This doesn’t denigrate Time Killers: in fact, you’d expect most collections of early works to be that way. Authors improve.

The first story is one of the darkest, with the rabbit suit (which in this story looks remarkably like Arthur’s moth costume from The Tick) being one of the few bits of humor. A teenage boy whose life to date has been a series of tragedies now makes his living assassinating for hire, and yet continues to try to eke out an existence as a high school student. Now he has to kill the father of one of his classmates, a raging idealist who wants to save the world. It’s a terrific debut (the first and last stories in the collection are the best), and you can easily see why it was picked up as her debut.

The middle of the collection is more patchy. One story seems to be a post-apocalyptic Western where half the cast are talking rabbits, but it never really gelled for me, possibly as the main human kept reminding me too much of Naruto. There are some excellent 5-6 page short stories that show off Kato’s art and sense of pacing, both with minimal to no dialogue. Redemption also features in a few of these, with a young man who has to care for his daughter realizing that he can’t keep running from life forever (and literally getting away with murder… the comedic tone of this story is deliberately jarring, which I quite liked). There are also a few stories that just didn’t work for me, such as the one with the “magic girl rice bowl”, and the romance among aline invasion, which needed more development and room to get the reader to care about what was going on.

As I said earlier, the highlight of the volume is the final story, The Miyama-Uguisu Mansion Incident. You can see the seeds of Blue Exorcist sprouting here, and not just because the two leads look like Rin and Shiemi. The art has come to the point where it can almost carry the story by itself, and the theme of gaining enough strength to be able to save someone important to you is one that resonates powerfully for a Jump viewer. The villain is nicely evil and over the top without quite descending into camp, and there’s an air of sweet melancholy that drapes over the whole affair. It’s a fine work.

Viz hasn’t skimped on the presentation – the paper quality is high, with many color pages throughout. Any Blue Exorcist fan should pick this up, and if casual readers get it and enjoy it, go track down Blue Exorcist. Also, it has lots of rabbits and rabbit costumes. Far more than your average Jump title.

By Shimoku Kio. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Afternoon. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

I’ve reviewed the last couple of volumes of this sequel to Genshiken in Bookshelf Briefs, and have remarked several times that it almost feels like they’re trying to aim for a new demographic with all of the new cast being of a more BL tilt, and the graduation of most of the previous players. That said, there are still characters dropping in and out throughout, and Madarame has been a constant, if smaller presence. Well, that changes here. The new volume starts with a definitive ending to the most talked about plotline of the old series, and helps to set up a new one that will also star Madarame, who has never been the viewpoint character but has always been the face of Genshiken, so to speak.

The old plotline is, of course, Madarame’s crush on Saki, and the fact that she’s been sort of aware but ignoring it. Last volume she admitted this, and the rest of the club set things up so that they could be alone and he could confess. No one – not even Madarame – seriously expects anything but a rejection. After all, Saki has been dating Kousaka since the series began, and while the majority of fans aren’t really thrilled with that, their love for each other has never been in question. (In fact, the scenes with Kousaka here are some of his best, as I finally begin to understand a character I’ve always had trouble with. As for the “confession” itself, it was very Genshiken, being both hilarious and heartwarming, and the aftermath slips to purely being the latter.

It feels like an ending, as Kio himself lampshades, but there’s still a lot of things to resolve. For one, as Saki notes, Madarame is busy obliviously gathering a harem of his own. Keiko gets a lot more face time here, and we see more of why she’s interested in someone with all the baggage that Madarame has – baggage that gets worse when he decides to quit his job, saying himself he wants to see how far he can fall. As for Hato, his crush on Madarame, if it is one, is still wrapped up in his own identity, which is in flux. This is painful for him, and it’s almost reminiscent of Wandering Son at times, except Hato is far less accepting of his own desires. Having Hato and Madarame intersect like this is a perfect plot – they’re the two most interesting characters of all of Genshiken.

Other than that, it seemed appropriate to devote a chapter to Ohno and Tanaka, who are almost the forgotten couple of the manga (partly die to Tanaka mostly being together about thin gs – even here he’s the adult.) This is also quite cute, and has a nice heartwarming scene that could be construed as a proposal – that’s certainly how the club takes it. And while there isn’t much Sue, the cliffhanger makes me think we may get more of her next time. Genshiken hasn’t forgotten about its old fans, but still has plenty for new readers. If you enjoyed the series before, this volume will not disappoint you.