Features & Reviews

By Yumi Unita. Released in Japan as “Usagi Drop” by Shodensha, serialized in the magazine Feel Young. Released in North America by Yen Press.

Please do not discuss Bunny Drop in the comments beyond Volume 7.

Everyone thinks a lot in Bunny Drop. I don’t just mean that we see their thoughts in addition to their dialogue, which we do, but that they think deeply all the time. Weighing decisions – and then wondering if they’re the correct ones – is something that Daikichi and Rin have done since this series began, and now that Rin is getting near graduating from school, she’s starting to think about her future. Which will involve having to resolve her past, and that means that she is finally going to have to meet Masako.

Yumi Unita knows that the best way to write a lovable, heartwarming manga is to make sure everything is as awkward as possible, so I was relieved to see that when Rin and Masako finally do meet, it wasn’t all hugs and tears and resolve to see each other every 2nd Saturday from now on. Rin still barely remembers Masako, even now – though we find out a reason for that here – and Masako may be moving on with her life and trying to be a better person, but she still acts like she regards Rin as a failed time in her life that makes her think lots of things she doesn’t want to. Masako’s childish qualities haven’t gone away, and it’s still very hard to sympathize with her. But we’re meant to be on Rin’s side here anyway.

Rin does a lot of soul searching here, spurred on partly by what happened with Kouki in Vol. 6 and partly through hearing about Reina getting a boyfriend (and then later watching it fall apart). She’s spent her last ten years growing up in an unconventional family, and realizes that she has a rather small pool of friends as well, mostly as she’s not doing clubs or sports, but going home to take care of Daikichi. I don’t think this is meant to be a dig on Daikichi himself – the general sense is that Rin really wants to do these things, and is likely better at cooking, etc., so has just stepped into this role at home.

Daikichi, meanwhile, is also growing older, and is having to deal with a serious injury for the first time – he puts his back out catching Rin when she falls off a stool. Given that he works in the shipping industry, this could be a big problem if it lingers. I was amused to see his co-workers coming over and reminiscing about their own back pains of the past, as well as Kouki’s mother telling Rin she had a back injury when she was in her twenties. But all this does is remind us how insular Daikichi’s own life has become as well. He doesn’t really hang out with co-workers anymore – his closest friend, in fact, may be Kouki.

So Rin is wondering about what it means to be a mother, and what it means to be a daughter. And realizing that the time may come when her life takes her away from Daikichi. And, unsurprisingly given how she’s grown up, she is not particularly fond of that day coming at all. That said, it’s not clear that day is coming soon in the manga either. The romantic drama we saw in Vol. 6 gets a brief mention here, but for the most part still appears to be over. So where does Rin go from here? Stay tuned for Vol. 8, coming out in April. Which may have a certain elephant that’s been lurking around the room. In the meantime, Vol. 7 gives us more of what we like about this series – thoughtful moments in the life of a kid who’s far too smart (but naive) for her own good.

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.

I never reviewed the first two volumes of Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro, the main reason being that I didn’t have a blog when they were both released. It’s been four long years (and 4 volumes of GA Art Design Class, the cute 4-koma series by the same author that many fans blame for Kuro’s hiatus) since we last saw the adventures of the stoic girl and her coffin. Indeed, the author apologizes profusely at the end of Vol. 3 for the delay, and hopes that we’ll keep reading regardless. Luckily, that should not be an issue. Not only is there a particularly vicious cliffhanger to keep us hungry for Vol. 4, but picking up this series again is like revisiting an old friend – after a few pages it’s like they never went away.

A lot of people note that this series often has a downbeat and melancholy tone, which is true and certainly doesn’t go away here. It’s just as important, though, that it manages to keep a light touch, mostly in its portrayal of Nijuku and Sanju. TV Tropes has a page called ‘Morality Chain’ which discusses characters whose basic existence is what keeps our heroes on the straight and narrow. While Kuro isn’t close to becoming a supervillain, there is a certain sense that the two mysterious children/scientific experiments function that way to this series as a whole. They have the childlike wonder of a Yotsuba, while also being able to sustain a level of creepy due to their supernatural origins. It makes for a good balance.

As for the manga itself, much of it is the same as the previous two volumes – Kuro, Sen and the two kids roaming the countryside of ‘generic pre-industrial world’ and trying to find information about the witch who cursed Kuro. And while there are stand-alone plots throughout that have nothing whatsoever to do with Kuro’s past, we are starting to see events come together into a coherent whole. We meet a strange young woman who is called a witch, and who ‘is searching for the person searching for her’ – an obvious connection to Kuro. Kuro, meanwhile, not only deals with her mirror opposite, but also her possible evil twin… though given what we know of Kuro before her curse, there may be far less difference between them than we’d like.

And much as I enjoyed the fluffy slice-of-life chapters and the twins, they are outnumbered by the melancholy in the end. We meet wind-up dolls waiting forever for their long-dead owners, and fairy-tale legends built around not-so-great men. But most of all, we get Kuro, who walks on her journey with an air of stoic suffering that is absolutely necessary. She is not stoic by choice, but by pure force of will. And when that will is shattered – as it is at the end of this volume when she encounters a war veteran searching for his wife and daughter – we are reminded that Kuro is CURSED, and there’s a very good reason why she carries that coffin all the time.

As I said, Kiyuduki urges us all to forgive her hiatus and watch over Kuro for a little longer. And she couldn’t have chosen a better volume to get us to do it. I *need* to find out what happens next. Unfortunately, while Kuro may no longer be on hiatus, it’s still not the fastest series in the world, so I may have to stoically suffer until the next volume. Get this book at once, and go back and get 1 and 2 as well if you didn’t already.

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.

It can sometimes be very difficult to practice what I preach. It’s all very well and good for me to offer advice to others, but sometimes a situation comes up where I have to take it. And so it goes with this first volume of Haganai, where I can’t help but hear the voice in the back of my head reminding me of Teru Teru x Shonen, where I urged bloggers who read Vol. 1 and then stopped to not judge an ongoing character arc by its first volume. And so it goes with Haganai, where I feel obliged to note that the plot is likely meant to be ‘this characters grow better and learn to be nice as the series goes on’. Or at least I hope so, as Haganai has some of the most irritating leads you’ll ever meet.

As if you had not been able to guess by the title and cover, Haganai is based on a series of light novels. The basic premise seems like some odd fusion of Haruhi Suzumiya and Toradora: a young man who has trouble making friends due to his natural blond hair and his squinty eyes meets an antisocial young woman who has trouble making friends with anyone. After a brief discussion, she gets the idea to form a club, supposedly devoted to learning how to make friends but in reality most likely just an excuse to hang out. Of course, she doesn’t count on the club actually gaining new members, all of whom are just as socially maladjusted as she is.

One thing the manga does that I enjoyed was have a ‘Chapter 0’ which takes place several months after the events of the rest of the book, a flash-forward of sorts showing us what the club will eventually be like. It helps to introduce the major players (including several who then don’t show up again for the rest of the volume) and shows off the basic plot and how it leads to cringe-inducing humor. Seeing it, I felt a bit more prepared for the rest of the volume.

Unfortunately, Haganai is also part of a brand of ‘moe’ that I’ve never really come to love. The old ‘harem genre’ of shonen manga used to have the nebbish hero choosing between nice girls, tsundere girls and the occasional bottle fairy, but there was never any indication that the girls weren’t able to function in society as a whole. But manga lately, mostly due to the related boom in light novels, has seen a huge increase in socially maladjusted high schoolers who simply can’t interact properly with anyone (except of course our hero… and even then). And you’re left exhausted as you see them blackmailing people gleefully as it would be fun to abuse them (as Yozora does here) or getting offended that the male lead refuses to act as her slave/footstool (as Sena does). It’s a love triangle of two girls who re all tsun and no dere. And what that leaves is basically a somewhat nondescript hero listening to two loud and obnoxious women yell for 200 pages.

That said, as I noted, clearly the premise will be (besides which girl gets the guy) about seeing the nice and sweet side of these girls. But it’s getting harder to justify digging for it. Even Haruhi Suzumiya eventually mellows out. Can I expect the same for Yozora and Sena?

By Kaoru Shintani. Released in Japan as “Christie High Tension” by Media Factory, serialized in the magazine Comic Flapper. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

The second omnibus volume of Young Miss Holmes, I will admit, did not thrill me quite as much as the first. Shintani is starting to have more difficulty inserting Christie and company into the Holmes stories, and I suspect, given there’s 3 volumes (one omnibus) to go after this that he might veer off the canonical road soon. He also has that odd habit that most manga writers who started in the 70s and 80s do of inserting humor – usually quite low humor – at the oddest points, something he no doubt got from Tezuka (you can see traces of this in Adachi and Takahashi’s writing as well). That said, this is still a lot of fun, with Christie being incredibly precocious while avoiding cloying qualities, and some much needed backstory for her two maids.

The first half of the book is taken up with The Hound of the Baskervilles, quite possibly the most famous of the Holmes stories. There are no attempts to alter the outcome of the story such as we saw before, and it spins out (with much compression) as expected. As I noted above, we get lots of opportunities to see Christie be brilliant, making deductions and logical leaps. At the same time, though, she has the patience and drive of a 10-year-old girl, and her maids realize this – though they’re still not able to corral her very well. And, as Shintani knows what’s popular and what isn’t, we get some nice opportunities of seeing Nora using her whip, including a battle with the Hound (which doesn’t go well, but luckily she has an unseen rescuer.) And again, thankfully, Holmes arrives at the solution faster than anyone else, including Christie.

The second story adapted here is The Adventure Of The Six Napoleons, which has a solution that is obvious enough that Shintani can easily write Holmes out of the tale and have Christie solving everything. This also reintroduces Detective Dexter of Scotland Yard, who we briefly saw in Hound, and who pops up every now and then from now on. He has an immediate attraction to head maid Ann Marie, something Christie notes and is quick to take advantage of. Again, the case plays out much like the original, but makes for a nicely entertaining adaptation.

A brief short story, The Memories of Nora, follows, and is what it sounds like: an original story by Shintani showing Nora’s life to date and how she became a maid at the Hope Estate. It’s not a pleasant childhood to say the least (and has some annoying ‘evil gypsies’ stereotypes to boot), but lets us see that Nora has no regrets as to where she’s ended up.

The final Holmes story adapted for Christie is The Five Orange Pips. Wisely, Shintani leaves the main mystery to Holmes, if only so that Christie doesn’t have to feel responsible for the fallout. Christie’s plot rests with Ann Marie, who has a complete freakout when she hears about the pips. As with most modern North American readers, the solution is far more obvious these days – we know what KKK stands for – so the storyline concentrates on Ann Marie’s own tragic childhood, and her change from a sweet little child to an instrument of God’s vengeance (as Holmes rather awkwardly puts it).

I must note once again that Seven Seas’ All Ages rating for the book is entirely inappropriate, in my opinion. Leaving aside the brief non-sexual shots of underage nudity, there’s simply a giant pile of violence here, including lingering shots of corpses with their throats slit, as well as a young girl killing an entire mansion full of people. I get that ratings can sometimes drive sales, and that it’s very hard to sell books starring 10-year-old cuties to adults. But come on.

That said, I am very grateful to Seven Seas for bringing out this series, which is a fast-paced and fun mystery series with a cute and sharp as a whip protagonist, and can’t wait (though I will have to, as it’s not out till September 2013) for the conclusion. And note with amusement that even Christie herself has started to call her maids ‘Herculean’.

By Mitsuru Adachi. Released in Japan in 2 separate volumes by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz.

And so, at last, after two delays (this was supposed to be out in July), we have the final volume of Cross Game. And perhaps the final Adachi in North America or a while, though I hope I’m wrong. If it is the last, though, at least we got this, a terrific story which both encompasses exactly what Adachi does best and also plays with his own cliches. Plus it’s one hell of a final game.

There’s a lot of flashbacks and flashforwards throughout the entire volume, as despite this being the big winner goes to the Koshien game, there’s a lot on everyone’s mind. Wakaba, her dream for Ko and Akaichi, and Akane’s surgery, all of which we are aware of. And Ko and Aoba’s conversation before the game, which we only get half of. Though I think we might be able to guess, especially given that Ko prefaces it by asking if he can lie. The flashbacks are all revelatory even as we reach the final volume. The old man who remembers Ko throwing baseballs against his wall with tears in his eyes is touching and sad, then we get Aoba’s own memories, as she catches him doing it. The manga has made it seem at times as if Ko coasts and doesn’t put in the work – this shows that he’s been doing it all along, but it’s a secret. Or a lie. Take your pick.

Some folks have noted they felt that the Akane plot was superfluous, but as I’ve stated before, I think that Adachi did that deliberately to contrast Aoba, so unlike his usual heroines, with Akane, who’s a carbon copy of the type he normally writes. Akane’s quite never-give-up attitude towards her surgery, her waking up to the satisfaction of seeing Akaishi hit an RBI for the first run of the game, and just generally being sweet. This is probably another reason why Cross Game was the perfect license for North America – we are a land which favors the Aobas of the world.

The game itself is a pitcher’s duel, of course, and Ko gets to show off both his batting and pitching chops. It’s the perfect game for a manga narrative (despite Aoba literally walking over to Adachi to suggest a plot at one point – it’s nice to see the 4th wall being broken right to the end), and the outcome is satisfying on both sides, even if one finds it bittersweet. And all that’s left is the realizations – not just Junpei and his marriage proposal/bet, but also Aoba, who understands as Ko walks towards her that Ko and Aoba were able to satisfy Wakaba’s dream. It’s a very emotional moment, and played as one.

But life goes on, and the final chapter is a scene of everyone getting ready for another trip – even if things have changed between the leads. Ko has always described himself as a liar, but it’s Aoba who gets the last word, with the biggest lie she’s ever told Even after she wonders to herself why she and Ko have to be so alike. A fitting end to a terrific series.

By Eiichiro Oda. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz.

I warn you in advance, this is another One Piece volume consisting primarily of one big fight, with many tiny little fights interspersed therein. Luckily, One Piece is dense enough that there’s still stuff to talk about even if the plot is mostly ‘Luffy hits the villain until he wins’.

One reason that the non-Luffy battles are so inconsequential is this is the big opportunity for Oda to show off how far his cast had improved in the two-year gap before the Fishman Island arc. There are some supposedly impressive mimi-bosses, but it’s notable that the only one who makes a really strong impression is the silliest, Zeo. It’s no coincidence that Zeo faces off against Brook, one of the silliest Straw Hat Pirates. He really is fantastically funny, and helps to liven up what might otherwise simply be a long stretch of battle. Usopp, too, has leveled up, and being who he is, gets to lampshade it. He doesn’t have to use fake balloon hammers or Sogeking anymore, he’s not tough enough to take on these bad guys with ease. Even Chopper has leveled up, coming to terms with his monster form and thus becoming able to control it.

The ongoing Fishman Island plot has been about racism, and this volume is no exception. It notes that Hody’s Fishman Uber Alles attitude may be stronger and angrier, but it’s also more hollow – he has no actual experience with what the Fishmen went through, but has merely grown up surrounded by a culture of hate. That’s not something easily changed, not even with a petition or really good thoughts. It has become, as the translation explicitly states, a holy war, and Neptune’s sons finally ask Luffy to do something that they cannot – wreck the entire island, reduce their past culture, with all its hatred, to smithereens.

This, of course, would fit the prophecy while not immediately spelling doom for everyone. Which is good, as this is also a good volume for seeing the good side of Fishman Island, and of One Piece heroes in general. You can always tell a character that Oda likes (even if they may be a villain) by their tendency not to give up even under the face of the worst adversity. Even the children watching the battle refuse to evacuate. And there’s a difference between this sort of strength and obsession, which is what we see from Hody and Vander Decken, who are perfectly happy with taking out countless innocents as long as they achieve their goals.

That said, I will admit to being a bit exhausted by this arc. It looks like it’s going to wrap up soon, for which I am thankful. I also wish we could have seen Nami and Robin do a bit more, but I can’t have everything. At least Sanji wasn’t too big an idiot this time. Next volume we wrap things up here and set off on a new adventure in the New World. Will we add a new crewman as well? I doubt it, but you never know with Luffy…