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Reviews

Species Domain, Vol. 1

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By Shunsuke Noro. Released in Japan by Akita Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Bessatsu Shonen Champion. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Krista Shipley, Adapted by Karie Shipley.

Monster Girl titles are here to stay, and have tended to come in two varieties. Thankfully, this is the second variety, and so fanservice and borderline content is not on the menu. Instead, this is something that should appeal to fans of series like My Monster Secret or Interviews with Monster Girls, as it has much the same flavor. It can be a bit odd and off kilter, though not so much that it reaches the out there weirdness of A Centaur’s Life. Its strongest qualities is its dialogue, of which there is a lot – this is a series with a group of classmates who talk and talk and talk, and it’s a relief we find the talk funny. And there are the usual manga cliches present within – the elf girl is a misunderstood tsundere, the angel girl is overenthusiastic and puppydog-ish, the dwarf girl is low key and stoic, etc. It’s solid and unassuming.

This is not a “I must hide my secret from the world” sort of book – there are several fantasy types at the school, and it’s accepted as simply being part of how the world works. That said, Kazamori, the elf girl on the cover, is battling the fact that everyone assumes she’s an elf who can use cool wind magic and has powers – except she’s been raised by humans, so has nothing of the sort. What’s worse, she feels the need to act haughty and proud as an elf should, even though the turmoil of emotions that stir within her is a more accurate read of her character. It also leads to most of the humor in the book, particularly when she collides with Ohki, a normal boy who denies that magic exists – everything can be explained with science. Which is fine, except all of the ‘science’ he demonstrates is ludicrously impossible to anyone but him.

This is the start, but refreshingly we also do focus on the other characters. It’s hard not to look at Unli the dwarf and not think of Terry Pratchett’s Cheery, as she’s essentially a cute small schoolgirl with a full beard and a penchant for meat. I was very amused at the relationship between her and her human classmate Tanaka, which everyone interprets as romantic and then when they find out it’s really not all hell breaks loose in terms of their suppositions. The title really seems to enjoy making fun of audience expectations – there’s an omake chapter that has Kazamori dream of what would happen if she was the cool girl with elf powers she wants to be, and Ohki was the fired up “I will prove it is science” shonen lead, and it’s hilariously boring.

Like many recent licenses these days, this will not win any awards for originality or surprises, but it’s fun and likeable, the sort of manga that you read with a smile on your face, even if it sometimes turns into a bit of a smirk. The translation and adaptation are excellent as well, which is key for a series that depends so much on its conversations. A good debut, recommended for fans of the ‘monster girl’ genre or comedic school manga in general.

Flying Witch, Vol. 1

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By Chihiro Ishizuka. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Bessatsu Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Vertical Comics. Translated by Melissa Tanaka.

Relaxed and easygoing titles have always been a thing in Japanese manga to some extent, but over the last ten years or so it really seems to look like they’re coming into their own, or at least coming to North America more often. Whether it’s school life, village life, or workplace life, there is a growing need for watching a cast of mild to strong eccentrics go about life at their own pace, usually with at last one “straight man” to boggle at their antics. And as you may have gathered, Flying Witch continues in this genre, showing us a young witch who moves out into the sticks in order to train, and her laidback adventures with a group of (mostly) normal villagers.

Makoto is the witch, and she’s a bit of an airhead, although not to the extremes that some of these series try to go. She wants to do her best to be a better witch, but is easily distracted, has a Ryouga Hibiki-like sense of direction, and also has absolutely no idea how to hide her identity as a witch, which is supposed to be a secret, from anyone at all. She’s moved in with her cousins, and on the very first day she’s trying out a new broom in front of the youngest one, not particularly noticing that she isn’t supposed to be floating in the air. The cousin, Chinatsu, is probably my favorite character in the book; at first shy and a little reluctant to like this new girl, she gradually warms up once she realizes Makoto is a witch, and is a nicely realistic young girl.

Less successful is Kei, the main male lead, who unfortunately is not straight-laced enough to be the main “tsukkomi” that this series needs. (That falls to his classmate Nao, who holds up her end of the bargain admirably, and is the recipient of the manga’s funniest and also possibly creepiest moment.) Kei is simply too laid back and relaxed, and as a result has a tendency to have no personality. He seems to be a ‘minder’ sort, like Yotsuba’s dad, but these girls are too old to really need to take charge of, so mostly he exists so that the series isn’t made up entirely of girls. I was pleased to see that the witch aspect was not forgotten – this felt like one of those series that would settle into slice-of-life and forget its roots, but each chapter does have a small element of the supernatural in it, from the terrifying mandrake root to the Harbinger of Spring (whose matter-of-fact introduction reminded me of some of the better Zetsubou-sensei chapters) to Makoto’s older and more accomplished sister, who arrives, makes chaos, and then leaves.

There’s not much to grab a hold of here, and I doubt a “real” plot will form. But who wants a real plot to form anyway? Flying Witch is filled with cute, nice, slightly weird girls living their everyday life and doing witchcraft. If you enjoy slice-of-life eccentricity, it’s right in your strike zone.

Altair: A Record of Battles, Vol. 1

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Altair: A Record of Battles seems tailor-made for fanfic: it’s got a cast of achingly pretty men, a labyrinthine plot, and an exotic setting that freely mixes elements of Turkish, Austrian, and Bedouin cultures. Like other series that inspire such fan-ish activity — Hetalia: Axis Powers comes to mind — Altair is more interesting to talk about than to read, thanks to an exposition-heavy script and an abundance of second- and third-string characters; you’ll need a flowchart to keep track of who’s who.

The first volume begins promisingly enough. While visiting the Türkiye capitol, a diplomat from the neighboring Balt-Rhein Empire is assassinated in the streets, an arrow lodged in his back. Though the murder weapon suggests that someone in the Balt-Rhein military engineered the hit, Emperor Goldbalt’s mustache-twirling subordinate Louis Virgilio points the finger at Türkiye, insisting they produce the killer or face the ultimate consequence: war. Mahmut, the youngest member of the Türkiye generals’ council, impulsively decides to visit Goldblat’s court in an effort to prevent bloodshed and reveal the true culprit in Minister Franz’s death.

No matter how intensely the characters ball their fists or glower at each other, however, their drawn-out arguments over troop mobilization, international diplomacy, and rules of order are only moderately more entertaining than an afternoon of watching C-SPAN. Author Kotono Kato further burdens the script with text boxes indicating characters’ rank and title, and diagrams showing the distribution of power under the Türkiye “stratocracy,” details that add little to the reader’s understanding of why Balt-Rhein and Türkiye are teetering on the brink of war. Only a nighttime ambush stands out for its dynamic execution; it’s one of the few scenes in which Kato allows the pictures to speak for themselves, effectively conveying the ruthlessness of Mahmut’s enemies without the intrusion of voice-overs or pointed dialogue.

The characters are just as flat as the storytelling. Kato’s flair for costume design is symptomatic of this problem: she’s confused surface detail — sumptuous fabrics, towering hats, sparkling jewels — with character development. With the exception of Mahmut, whose passionate intensity and youthful arrogance are evident from the very first scene, the other characters are walking, talking plot devices whose personalities can be summed up in a word or two: “brash,” “devious,” “enthusiastic,” “mean.” (Also “hot” and “well dressed,” for anyone who’s keeping score.) The shallowness of the characterizations robs the Türkiye/Balt-Rhein conflict of urgency, a problem compounded by Kato’s tendency to wrap things up with epilogues that are as baldly worded as a textbook study guide. At least you’ll be prepared for the quiz.

The bottom line: History buffs will enjoy drawing parallels between the Türkiye and Balt-Rhein Empires and their real-life inspirations, but most readers will find Altair too labored to be compelling — unless, of course, they’re looking for fresh opportunities to ‘ship some handsome characters.

ALTAIR: A RECORD OF BATTLES, VOL. 1 • BY KOTONO KATO • KODANSHA COMICS • RATED T, FOR TEENS • DIGITAL ONLY

Blood Lad, Vol. 8

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By Yuuki Kodama. Released in Japan by Kadokawa Shoten, serialized in the magazine Young Ace. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Melissa Tanaka.

It’s been over a year since we last looked at the world of Blood Lad. Such is life when you’ve caught up to a series’ Japanese releases, even more so when Yen puts this out as an omnibus. But the manga has now finished in Japan, so we shouldn’t have quite as long to wait for the final volume. In the meantime, we get this new omnibus, which does exactly what I suspected it would, which is get taken up by a huge fight between the villain and everyone else, showing off all the minor and secondary characters to a decent degree, but putting the emphasis squarely where it’s been (more or less) since Day One: on the odd relationship between vampire leader Staz and busty newly dead ghost Fuyumi. It even gives Fuyumi something to do!… though that’s somewhat problematic as well.

If you look at my past reviews of Blood Lad, you’ll see that Fuyumi’s lack of character development has been a bit of a bugaboo for me. She’s improved, but still tends to be reactive rather than proactive. That doesn’t change here, much as I’d like it to. The solution to how to defeat the bad guy involves Staz fusing with Fuyumi’s body, effectively making her the action heroine, but since it’s really Staz in the driver’s seat, the effect is lost, no matter how often we hear ‘Super Fuyumi Kick!’. Her best moment in this volume may come in a ‘dreamscape’, as she yells at him for being tactless and not understanding her feelings while literally dressed up as a giant 50-foot bride. Fuyumi is ‘the love interest’, and sadly Blood Lad’s biggest lost opportunity.

Thankfully, we’ve got something that makes up for that: humor. A good deal of this volume is hilarious, especially towards the end. Much as I disliked the Staz/Fuyumi fusion as character development, as an homage to giant robots it’s wonderful, especially as more and more people end up getting added and Staz’s Fuyumi Gundam rapidly turns into a Fuyumi Yamato. And, let’s be honest, the sight of Fuyumi with Staz’s teeth and attitude is also highly amusing. It helps to distract a bit from the brutality of the villain, who I think we abandon all hope of ever turning back to the other villain he used to be here. He’s a good villain, but also a bit one-note. Still, he provides tension.

Blood Lad in the end works best if you view it as one of those summer action blockbusters you see in the theater. While you’re watching it you’re captivated by the cool fight scenes and great quips, but it tends to fall apart when you go home and think about the plot afterwards. So don’t think about it too hard. Just sit back and enjoy a manga written by an artist who is clearly enjoying the hell out of himself, and grin along with Staz as you pilot a giant robot version of the girl you like in order to defeat a madman.

Yona of the Dawn Vol. 5

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Yona of the Dawn Volume 5 by Mizuho Kusanagi

Yona of the Dawn continues to be an absolutely delightful manga. Every time I finish a volume I feel extremely satisfied as a reader, having gotten just the right amount of plot, character development, humor, and action. The fourth volume was much more somber in tone as the intrepid adventurers led by Yona find the Blue Dragon in his mountain village. Entirely isolated due to his special abilities from a young age, the Blue Dragon seems a bit intrigued by the visitors, but still lost and on his own. A cave-in prompts some dramatic action, and when Yona invites him to join her again, he agrees. The first chapter ends on a wistful note as the Blue Dragon’s internal thoughts turn to the previous Dragon who trained him, reflecting that he doesn’t remember the face of the man who used to be his only family.

Yona of the Dawn doesn’t stay moody for long, as Gija attempts to sense the location of the next dragon, only to collapse. This gives Hak an excuse to intone “Rest in Peace”, but Gija is temporarily indisposed. The group heads to a seaside village next, where the Green Dragon is a sardonic pirate, determined to maintain his independence despite his destiny. Hak and the Green Dragon keep running into each other randomly as they save villagers from being oppressed.

This volume had some of my favorite character-driven moments so far, as Yona permits all of her entourage to call her by her fist name except for Hak. He’s horrified that she’s allowing herself to be addressed so casually, and when they are talking together separately, she asks him to always be sure to call her “your highness”, because she can’t forget where she came from, to preserve the memory of her former family. The scene shows Hak’s unwavering devotion, the closeness between Hak and Yona, and at the same time the distance that rank puts between them. Yona has come a long way from the frightened princess n the first volume, and she’s still determined to keep improving herself. I’m enjoying the pace of this manga as well. With three of the dragon guardians identified, I’m looking forward to seeing the fourth one tracked down and then seeing how the story unfolds once Yona has her mini army all gathered together.

Twinkle Stars, Vol. 2

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

One of Takaya’s stronger points is her ability to depict a character hiding their own emotional pain and despair, usually because they don’t want to make others worry or because it’s simply not the done thing to admit your feelings. We see more of that in this new omnibus, as we get more details on Sakuya’s depression and what led to her living away from her family with Kanade. Now to be fair, we’ve covered a lot of these sorts of situations in Fruits Basket – I mean, if you guessed emotional abuse from a parental figure, give yourself a nickel – but it can be argued that this sort of thing needs to be brought into the open as much as Takaya does. Sakuya’s repressed feelings – which she isn’t suite sure about, possibly as her new stepmother is pushing at her to hate her – are one of the highlights of the volume.

Of course, what makes Sakuya such a strong character is that it really isn’t entirely a mask to hide her emotional pain. Sakuya’s joy at being with her friends and seeing the stars is very real too, and so are her budding feelings for Chihiro, even if she finds them a bit terrifying. Chihiro is slightly less interesting in this second volume, mostly as he’s far less mercurial – he seems to have accepted Sakuya as a new friend, and therefore there’s not as much pushing back, though I suspect we’ll get that from a different angle in future volumes. Yuuri and Hijiri get the cover art, and Yuuri also gets a bit more backstory, which develops the reasons he’s fallen for Sakuya while also showing that he absolutely is not going to be the winner.

And then there’s Hijiri, who is perfect. I would like to say it’s rare I fall for a character so fast, but that’s not true, this happens all the time. But it’s always a pleasure when it does. Hijiri has a sharp tongue, but is looking out for her friends, and I am pleased to see that the very first page of this omnibus shows that she and Yuuri will not be set up into a ‘pair the spares’ romance. Of course, this also seems to be because she has a crush on her teacher, which makes me wary. Better is the amusing relationship she has with her masochistic manservant Saki, who is 100% devoted to her and has no trouble showing this in front of others, much to her dismay. Takaya’s comedy can be forced at times, but when she’s on a roll you will laugh your head off.

The preview for the next omnibus seems to show that we’ll be getting Chihiro’s backstory next – I keep thinking things are movign a bit fast, but then I recall that this series was less than half the number of volumes that fruits Basket had. That doesn’t make it any less good, though, and I look forward to intense emotional pain as only Takaya can give to readers next time around.

Re: ZERO ~Starting Life in Another World~, Vol. 3

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By Tappei Nagatsuki and Shinichirou Otsuka. Released in Japan by Media Factory. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by ZephyrRz.

I was actually rather surprised to see that we don’t get another loop in the middle of this book. Subaru has managed to slowly figure out what’s going on, and is able to finally fix it, though not without great cost to life and limb. As I expected, this volume focused more on the fan-favorite maid Rem, and showed off her tremendous powers, her truly top-tier hatred and loathing of herself, and her realization that Subaru is not a bad guy – which he isn’t, though he can be rather frustrating, as always. Given that we know that Subaru snarks and makes comebacks in order to cover up his true feelings, I suppose I’d better get used to it, though I still say that he’s at his best when the mask comes off. His manic desperation, and subsequent sobbing breakdown, may be the highlight of the book.

Beatrice is on the cover this time, and I like her the more I see of her, though I do sort of wish she’d yell “YOU ARE INCOMPETENT” to Subaru just once. She’s the classic reluctant mentor who acts grumpy but helps you far more than is necessary. Emilia does not get much to do here, but makes her scenes count, realizing that Subaru is losing his mind a bit at the beginning, and towards the end giving him an epic dressing down (the revelation of how Beatrice and Puck stopped her chasing after him is the best gag in the book). As for Ram and Rem, the Higurashi fan in me could not help but see similarities between their background and that of Mion and Shion Sonozaki, with one twin forced to take up the mantle of the other due to circumstances, and feeling horrible about it. Rem falls for Subaru hard here, and I look forward to seeing how this is handled in the next book, particularly as Subaru is still A. A. E. (All About Emilia).

Beneath his wisecracking, tendency to kill himself to solve things, and sheer bullheadedness, Subaru is actually rather clever, and uses the loops to find just the right questions to ask his loli Wikipedia. The revelation of the mastermind is not one I’ll spoil here, but it should make TV Tropes happy if nothing else. And then there’s Roswaal, who again seems to be secretly evil, particularly given the final scene. Ram is over the moon for him, and seems totally fine with being a pawn, which is never good. Here’s hoping Subaru can figure out what’s going on with him. In the meantime, there are a few teasers for what may happen next. Emilia is still one of the candidates for ruler, and Subaru actually looks back at the first volume and tries to figure out why on Earth she’d use the name Satella given he now knows who that is and the stigma it carries. I am hoping that we get Emilia’s tragic backstory (she must have one) soon.

Re: Zero continues to improve with each volume, though this one was helped along by the back half being one massive battle. That said, I’ve no doubt the next book will feature Subaru being an idiot, and probably dying. Definitely recommended for those who enjoy fantasy thrillers with wisecracking leads.

Clockwork Planet, Vol. 1

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By Yuu Kamiya, Tsubaki Himana, and Kuro. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Shonen Sirius. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Daniel Komen.

I came into this series knowing next to nothing about it, except that, judging by the cover, it seemed to be sci-fi of some sort. It’s based on a series of novels co-created by the guy who writes No Game No Life, but thankfully seems to mostly lack the overly perverse aspects of that series. The premise is that a young, bullied teenager who lives on his own in a decaying apartment is actually an engineer savant, able to fix anything provided he can “hear” where the problem is. This is made easier by the fact that things in this world run on gears and clockwork (hence the title), though the aesthetic seems to be more Blade Runner than steampunk. The story starts when a broken robot girl comes crashing into his apartment, and after he fixes her takes over much of his life. Oh yes, and everyone in the city is about to be destroyed by an evil conspiracy.

The manga adaptation of the series is mostly functional, but there are several very nice pictures of the city itself and its gears, showing that the artist is quite capable when she sets her mind to it. The male lead is OK, I guess, suffering at the moment from being a bullied kid who sort of assumes he’s a loser, as he has no idea how rare his engineering talent is. The main reason to get this series, though, is the robot girl, Ryuzu, who is amazingly rude in regards to humanity as a whole and says so frequently. Once she discovers what Naoto is capable of, she’s prepared to do anything for him, leading to the funniest scene in the book, as she tries to get him to have a wonderful school life without bothering to take into account the other students around her at all. Every time you turn the page you can expect her to say new horrible things, and it’s a major selling point.

I was less enthused by the other main characters, who are introduced halfway through. Marie is an engineering prodigy from a well-known family, already with a doctorate despite still being a teenager. She’s also rude, but in a typical “I am arrogant and don’t have time for you” way, so it’s not as amusing. Admittedly, it isn’t supposed to be – it quickly becomes apparent that Marie and her bodyguard are dealing with the evil conspiracy I mentioned above, which is the sort of evil conspiracy that deems 20 million lives as acceptable losses. I think this simply suffers from being less interesting than the first half rather than any major character faults, and I think I will like Marie better when she interacts with other people, but it does leave the book a bit unbalanced.

But overall, a very good start. I want to see more of the world itself, and flesh out Marie and her bodyguard, but I definitely want to keep reading more. And I definitely want to hear more of Ryuzu’s sharp-tongued dialogue, which is the main selling point of this series so far.

Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, Vol. 1

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Since its 1999 debut, Masashi Kishimoto’s Naruto has sold more than 220 million volumes in 35 countries and spawned a cottage industry of anime adaptations, costumes, trading cards, video games, figurines, and stage plays. VIZ published the final English-language volume in 2015, but the series’ popularity endures; walk through any American comic-con, and you’ll find small gangs of Narutos and Sasukes roaming the floor alongside Superman, Batman, and Sailor Moon.

In the post-Naruto era, VIZ has supplied hardcore fans with a steady stream of spin-off products, from light novels to coffee-table books. The company’s latest offering is Boruto: Naruto Next Generations, a manga written and illustrated by Ukyo Kodachi and Mikio Ikemoto under Kishimoto’s supervision. The story focuses on three new characters: Boruto (Naruto and Hinata’s son), Sarada (Sasuke and Sakura’s daughter), and Mitsuki (a young ninja of uncertain origins), all of whom enter the Chunin Exam, a tournament for aspiring ninjas. Running in tandem with the trio’s quest for victory are two subplots, the first centering on the return of the Otsutsuki clan and the second on a cloning scheme orchestrated by one of Naruto’s old nemeses.

While it’s obvious that Next Generations is aimed at ride-or-die fans, Kodachi deserves a medal for his efforts to make the story accessible to the uninitiated as well. Some of these expository passages are a little clumsy, but the pacing is brisk enough to smooth over the less graceful exchanges. The artwork, too, is competently executed; Ikemoto’s character designs create a strong visual continuity with the original series, making it easier for readers to grasp who’s related to whom.

On the minus side, Next Generations straddles the fence between remake and sequel, never fully settling on one approach. In an effort to show us that Boruto is just like his dad, for example, Kodachi portrays Boruto as impatient, brash, and… well, that’s about it. Reduced to a third-generation photocopy of his father, Boruto lacks a real identity or purpose of his own, despite Kodachi’s efforts to manufacture father-son drama. The decision to enter Boruto in the Chunin Exam is further evidence of the creators’ unwillingness to take risks. Boruto’s experiences may be a little different than his dad’s, but the tasks and outcomes tack so closely to the original that they, too, register as bad facsimiles, rather than an organic continuation of the Uzumakis’ saga.

The other problem with Next Generations is that the bad guys are cooler than the good guys. To be sure, this is a frequent issue in shonen manga; villains often get the snappiest lines and deadliest weapons while heroes are reduced to blustering about courage, teamwork, and loyalty. This problem nearly sinks the first volume of Next Generations, however, as Orochimaru — one of the most memorable villains in the original series — oozes sinister purpose in his cameo appearance, making a more immediate impression than any of Konoha’s do-gooder teens; he’s compulsively “watchable,” whether he’s browbeating one of his minions or playing at fatherhood.

Whether Orochimaru will be Next Generations’ principal baddie is unclear, as volume one introduces yet another flamboyant villain: Kawaki. If I had to hazard a guess about who Kawaki is, I’d say he was a refugee from JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, as his two-tone hairdo and dramatic tattoos are just a little too fabulous for the Naruto universe. I’m not sure if he’s a portent of what’s to come in volume two or a hint of what Kodachi and Ikemoto might have created if they’d been given more latitude by Kishimoto; either way, finding out who Kawaki is the only reason I’d continue reading Next Generations.

The bottom line: If you’re a self-professed Naruto fan, Next Generations will offer just enough fresh material to affirm your love of all things Kishimoto; if not, you may find Next Generations a tedious slog.

Review copy provided by VIZ Media.

BORUTO: NARUTO NEXT GENERATIONS, VOL. 1 • CREATED BY MASASHI KISHIMOTO, ILLUSTRATED BY MIKIO IKEMOTO, AND WRITTEN BY UKYO KODACHI • VIZ MEDIA • RATED T (FOR TEENS)

Log Horizon: The Gold of the Kunie

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By Mamare Touno and Kazuhiro Hara. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Taylor Engel.

Confession to make: I’m an extrovert. It’s actually been difficult for me to accept this, as most of my close friends are introverts, as are most of the people I interact with on Tumblr and the like. But much as I whine “but sometimes I don’t like interacting with others either”, there’s no getting around my extroverted nature. As such, I find Shiroe very frustrating and hard to take at times, and I empathized very much with Naotsugu in this book, who knows there’s not much he can do but be there for Shiroe and let him work things out at his own pace. Of course, Shirou is trying to pull off an even bigger scheme than usual – this is essentially the Log Horizon equivalent of a heist movie, only with the true objective not being piles and piles of money – well, not DIRECTLY. The true goal is freedom and security.

The majority of this book is a raid, and once again I am painfully reminded that I don’t game. More than any other light novel that details game-like aspects of a world, Log Horizon depends on its readers being gamers. This means there’s lots of discussions of balanced parties and of HP and MP and the like, to the point where we need extended appendixes just to discuss MORE of it. Thankfully, it’s not completely incomprehensible, and enough of it is written in standard action movie terms that I was never lost. But we’re not allowed to forget that the people trapped in this world are all hardcore gamers. This goes double for William Massachusetts (I will never get used to that name) and his guild Silver Sword, whose close bonds are a reflection of a group of people who found real-life interaction difficult but were able to find true bonds online – and also learn more about how to interact offline. His speech of anguished frustration is a highlight of the book.

There’s a new regular introduced here, and I’m not sure how I feel about them. Tetora is a self-proclaimed “idol” who also happens to be a Level 93 cleric, and for a while you suspect has been added to the book in order to replace Akatsuki as someone to bounce off Naotsugu properly. The gender reveal – that Tetora is actually a boy, though it’s not clear if they just dress as a girl or have a female game body – seems rather odd and last-minute, and I assume that we will get a bit more of this later beyond “I just like acting overly cutesy and annoying”. Interestingly, Taylor Engel uses female pronouns the entire book till the reveal, then has Shiroe switch to male ones. How does Tetora see her/his gender? To be honest, I found Tetora a bit grating, but that’s possibly as I’m a massive Naotsugu/Marielle shipper, and don’t want someone horning in on their slowly developing couplehood. Luckily, we see a bit of that relationship here as well.

There’s a bit more going on here that will impact future books – Krusty has vanished, and his lieutenant seems to have permanently lost her right arm. This likely ties into the “flavor text” from the previous volumes. But the majority of this volume had the same goal as the 6th did for Akatsuki – get Shiroe to open up, explain things, and stop trying to take the entire world on his shoulders. Whether that will stick is something we’ll have to see about in future books. In the meantime, next book we’ll focus on the younger members of Log Horizon again. This is a good, solid light novel series that may appeal to the reader who finds Sword Art Online a bit too outgoing.

Fruits Basket Collector’s Edition, Vol. 11

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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.

This is the penultimate omnibus of Fruits Basket, and has most of the things you’d expect to see. Kyo finishes telling Tohru about his past with her mother, and because he hates himself, is really upset that Tohru doesn’t get mad about it. Akito is also dealing with self-hatred, and it’s to Takaya’s credit that the resolution to Akito and Tohru’s talk is not being stabbed with a knife (though admittedly, the crumbling cliff feels VERY deus ex machina, and I could do without the ‘kissing the concussed girl’ too). And of course the curse breaks for everyone, which allows those in couples to hug their loved ones, or those who aren’t in couples to wander the streets alone in tears because I dunno, Takaya is just mean. In any case, it’s Fruits Basket. All the feels are contained within.

Ren has the cover but doesn’t feature in the book personally. Her presence is felt throughout Akito and Tohru’s confrontation, though. Tohru realizes what the reader has, which is that Akito is in many ways similar to the other Sohmas, i.e. she’s dealing with emotional trauma from parental abuse. This doesn’t excuse what she put everyone through, but it does help Tohru to understand why her declaration of “I’m going to break the curse” meant, to Akito, “I’m going to destroy your life”. Tohru is still reeling from Kyo’s “disillusionment”, but more power to her for talking Akito down, and helping her to understand that the paralyzing fear of being rejected is what love is all about. And then there’s that cliff fall, which is *so* ridiculous that Shigure has to ask Akito if Tohru was pushed.

The remainder of the volume has Tohru in the hospital, and Kyo undergoing a huge torrent of abuse because, thanks to Yuki, everyone knows what he said to Tohru right before the accident. This does allow Kyo to attempt to move on from his past, which means confronting his birth father, who is an amazingly awful monster, but who Kyo also now sees as sad and small. It’s one of the better scenes in the book, and shows off that, despite what the rest of the cast has been screaming at him, Kyo has matured. Of course, the best scenes in the book are those where the curse breaks, and we see the aftermath from everyone’s eyes. Kyo and Tohru reuniting and declaring their love for each other is wonderful, but it’s easily topped by realizing that Kyo, despite being hugged, isn’t transforming, and his ripping off his bracelet. Tohru’s face as he does this may be the best panel in all of Fruits Basket.

Things aren’t perfect. Aside from the deus cliff machina, Takaya’s side pairings aren’t always developed as they should be, and she relies on the audience connecting dots that she hasn’t actually put into the manga itself. Thus while I like the basic idea of Kureno and Uotani, there’s no real feeling or emotion behind their getting together. (I do agree with his thoughts that he needs to be far away from Akito). Yuki and Machi fares a little better, and certainly she tried to develop it in the later books, but it still feels rushed. I did like the idea of Yuki calling her out to explain the curse, only to have to break right as she arrives. And now we have only one volume left to go, and given there’s only one regular book left to put in it, I expect there should be some extra content included as well. What will it be? Find out next month. In the meantime, still one of the top shoujo manga, despite its faults.

Anonymous Noise Vol. 2

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I feel like Anonymous Noise is hobbled by its covers, because they are so consistently great the manga inside has a hard time living up to them. That being said, I found the contrived plot elements a little less annoying in the second volume, probably because the cliched character introductions are now out of the way.

The volume opens with Nino being challenged about her vocal ability. Miou, Yuzu’s former singer points out that while Nino’s voice has a compelling quality, her technique is a mess. Nino and Miou sing together and Miou is able to sustain her note much longer than Nino. Nino is determined to get better, and she starts reading tons of books on vocal technique. Nino spots Momo’s name on a flyer advertising music autions for a famous writer/producer, and she decides to try out in order to find out if the mysterious producer is her long-lost Momo. Of course the auditions are on the same day as the next TV appearance of In No Hurry to Shout, and Nino has to somehow pull off being at both at the same time.

The aspect of this manga that I found most interesting in the first volume was Nino as a destructive muse. She’s so single-minded, she is still utterly unaware that she’s hurting Yuzu’s feelings with her never-ending Momo obsession. Yuzu is inspired to compose by the idea of Nino as his Alice, but Momo is determined to avoid her because he’s turned away from his original childhood inspiration to compose pop hits. Yuzu even damaged his voice to sing with Nino when they were children, with the result that he’s no longer able to sing himself and Nino is now serving as his proxy. All this obsession in the service of creativity might not be a good thing, yet the joyful scenes of people lost in song carry the manga along.

I wish some of the plot elements were a little less contrived, because the coincidences piling on top of each other take me out of enjoying the story a little bit. I am still enjoying the stylish art, particularly a great panel where Yuzu hands Nino the wig of the lead singer for his band. I think this series might be one where I become a little better at engaging my suspension of disbelief with each volume. Anonymous Noise certainly delivers dramatic angst, so I’m still finding it interesting to read.

In Another World with My Smartphone, Vol. 1

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By Patora Fuyuhara and Eiji Usatsuka. Released in Japan as “Isekai wa Smartphone to Tomo ni” by Hobby Japan. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Andrew Hodgson.

It’s a bit difficult to know where to begin. I guess I’ll start by saying that by the end of this book, I was enjoying it immensely and had a big smile on my face. The second thing I should say is that this does not actually make the book “good” in any sense of the word. For a few years I’ve had to review the occasional awful manga, and people have sometimes asked me “do you mean that it’s bad in an MST3K way or bad in a bad way”. Sadly, I’ve always had to say that it’s actually the latter. Most terrible things are not remotely entertaining. In Another World with My Smartphone is an exception. Every ridiculous power the hero has, each new cliched heroine that appears, every time the plot rearranges itself so that everything is as “awesome” as possible, and most importantly the complete lack of any sense that things are about to get difficult for anyone makes this book bad in an absolutely wonderful, hilarious way. Everyone who says Kirito or Tatsuya are overpowered self-insert wannabes need to read this immediately.

I should lay out the plot here, though if you have read any isekai you’ll get the gist. Touya (no, not the Touya from Mixed Bathing in Another Dimension, though I now wonder if the name has significance for isekai works) is accidentally killed by a lightning bolt. He’s granted an audience with God, who offers to reincarnate him in a fantasy world where he can have adventures. Touya, a modern thinking sort, asks if he can keep his smartphone, and God obligingly allows it to remain working and gives it unlimited battery. He then arrives in a new world, where he quickly meets up with Kyou and Ryou Fujibayashi… (cough) sorry, with Elze and Linze, two beginning adventurers who he joins forces with. Joining an adventurer’s guild, he gradually adds incredible powers, more cute girls, and heroic feats that make everyone’s jaws drop. In fact, the author literally apologizes for not using the smartphone enough in the first volume – why would Touya need it, when he can fight like a champ, use every single kind of magic, and summon Heavenly Beasts that then become adorable tiger cub mascots?

This is taken from a webnovel, and it’s really, really obvious. Usually with most conversions to published works they at least try to get rid of the excited sense of “I’m going to put absolutely everything into this book!”, but not here. Touya has impossible magic powers. Touya can read the moves of other fighters so he’s able to dodge or counter them. Touya can heal the blind. Touya can solve crimes, provided the suspect is an obvious cliche of an evil Duke. Touya is so pure of heart that the Princess of the land immediately falls in love and declares that he will be her husband. (Touya’s complete panic at this idea is possibly the best he’s written the whole book, and I hope (probably in vain) that future volumes throw him off his game like this.) Touya can read ancient scripts (just like Bob Hope and Steve Allen!), and can make magical reading glasses to allow other to do so. Touya can even accidentally look as if he’s been to a brothel and get lectured by all his girls, because this is still a harem comedy. Is there anything Touya cannot do? Sadly, yes. Touya cannot stop his friends’ menstrual pain. Some things are simply beyond any power.

I mentioned Touya’s purity of heart, and I think the same thing applies to the book as a whole. The reason that this is fun bad and not bad bad is that it’s so innocent of the normal cynicism you tend to see in these works. I joked on Twitter that this was “Baby’s First Isekai”, and that’s not far off. I think authors are allowed to write this sort of thing to get it out of their system. Being mean to it would be like kicking a puppy. There’s apparently an anime of this coming in the summer, and I cannot WAIT to see how the typical male anime fan who hates Kirito is going to react to this. I think I’ll bring popcorn. I’ll also be reading more, because this proved to be insanely fun. Which makes it a big success after all.

Kiss & White Lily for My Dearest Girl, Vol. 1

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By Canno. Released in Japan as “Ano Ko ni Kiss to Shirayuri wo” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Jocelyn Allen.

Those who follow my reviews know that I have a certain penchant for mocking the monthly manga magazine Comic Alive, which has always seemed to cater to the audience who wants fanservice, tie-ins, and the latest trends, and they want them now. Sometimes that can be a disaster, but on occasion Comic Alive will throw me a curveball and give me a series I can truly enjoy. Kiss & White Lily for My Dearest Girl is one of those series. I came to it at the end of a glut of yuri manga volumes (and who’d ever imagine I’d be typing that phrase even two years ago?), and was worried that a lot of this review would be finding ways to say the exact same thing again. But this title is different enough from its predecessors that there’s some interesting things to discuss.

The cover is somewhat deceptive, leading me to believe that we’d be seeing one of the common default yuri pairings (or CDYP for short), the shy easily embarrassed girl and the overly genki enthusiastic girl. Luckily, that’s not the case. The premise is actually similar to the old shoujo manga Special A – Ayaka is a hard-working diligent student who always gets the best grades, but now in high school she’s up against Yurine, a lazy and apathetic girl who nonetheless always manages to get first place in everything. Ayaka’s competitive nature (instilled by her parents, it’s hinted) won’t allow her to accept this, and so she grows more and more frustrated with Yurine. As for Yurine herself, nothing challenges her anymore, and therefore nothing is interesting… except maybe Ayaka.

By itself this would probably be enough to sustain a series, likely about 2-3 volumes. But halfway through we shift to Ayaka’s roommate and cousin Mizuki, who’s athletic, handsome, and the male half of the Takarazuka pair she has with her friend Moe, who manages the track team and is angling to get Yurine on it. Yes, you guessed right, this is a School Full Of Gay (TM), and so the second half of the story focuses on another couple and their own travails. This one is more easily solved, while it appears that Ayaka and Yukine will be the developing pairing we keep coming back to after wandering away for a bit. There’s also a few one-page shorts detailing that yes, everyone in this school is indeed gay, and while it’s unrealistic, it’s also quite cute.

As I said above, the thing I enjoyed best about this series is the way that Canno’s characters don’t quite go the way I expect them to. They’re still types to a degree, but this first volume gave them a bit more depth than I’d expect for a series like this, particularly Yurine, who also gets a chapter near the end where she hangs out all day with the exceedingly hyperactive Ai, partly in an effort to try to be more open and sociable. (She’s lucky she tried it first with Ai, who plows through social cues like a train.) I have a sneaking suspicion I’ll see more of ai and her own romantic travails in a future volume. In the meantime, Kiss & White Lily for My Dearest Girl may walk on some well-worn paths, but there’s surprising depth here. A must have for fans of yuri.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Vol. 1

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The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Volume 1Creator: Akira Himekawa
Translator: John Werry
U.S. publisher: Viz Media
ISBN: 9781421593470
Released: March 2017
Original run: 2016

Akira Himekawa is the joint pen name of A. Honda and S. Nagano, two women who have been collaborators for over thirty years. The two-person creative team is probably best known for their work on the manga adaptations of The Legend of Zelda series of video games, although some North American readers may associate Himekawa with the Avatar: The Last Airbender comics as well. Despite being a fan of both franchises, I actually hadn’t made a point to read any of Himekawa’s work until after meeting the two women briefly at the Toronto Comic Arts Festival in 2014. Twilight Princess is the most recent entry in Himekawa’s series of The Legend of Zelda adaptations. Initially Twilight Princess was intended to be a children’s series, but when the original 2006 video game it was to be based on became the first in the franchise to be rated for teens, plans for that manga were cancelled. It wasn’t until 2016 that Himekawa would begin serializing Twilight Princess digitally, the first volume subsequently being released in Japan in print later that year. Viz Media’s English-language edition of Twilight Princess debuted in print in 2017.

Link is a young man trying to outrun his past. A year and a half ago he wandered into the border village of Ordon, hiding his personal history in hopes of establishing a new life for himself. Ordon is idyllic, seemingly a perfect place for Link to retreat. The land is said to have been blessed by the spirits and the village is well-known for its bountiful harvests. Although Link arrived as a stranger, he was warmly welcomed by the villagers and has since become an integral part of the community. Link loves Ordon and its people, but there’s always a small part of him that feels like he doesn’t quite belong. He is still plagued by guilt over the tragedies of his past, dealing with a weighty feeling of responsibility which is impossible to ignore. Having experienced disaster before, Link may be one of the few who can prevent it from happening again. Most of the other people in the sacred kingdom of Hyrule are unaware of the looming threat that the long-forgotten Twilight Realm poses. It’s a danger that grows even greater when the ambitions of one man to rule both the light and the dark begin to come to fruition. As the shadows of darkness gather around Ordon, Link will have to face his past and his fears, confronting the possibility that he will once again lose everything that he holds most dear.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Volume 1, page 122Although I’ve played some of the original Twilight Princess, familiarity with the video game is not at all necessary to enjoy Himekawa’s adaptation. At least so far, the series can stand on its own as a work–the manga largely comes across as a freely-developed fantasy rather than a strict reimagining of a video game. Himekawa’s narrative in Twilight Princess is streamlined and quickly paced, incorporating elements of the original game in clever ways. Some of the wonder of having a world to leisurely explore and discover is lost as Twilight Princess is adapted into a different medium, but in exchange the manga emphasizes depth of characterization. As the protagonist, Link is generally the most fully-realized character. I really like Himkeawa’s multi-faceted interpretation of Link in Twilight Princess. While at heart Link is a troubled and brooding hero, he also exhibits happiness and joy and there are moments in the manga when his good-natured goofiness shines through. The Twilight Princess manga, much like the video game itself, is intended for a more mature audience than many of the previous incarnations of The Legend of Zelda. The story tends to be fairly dark and can be strikingly violent at times.

One of the things that I appreciate the most about Himekawa’s work on The Legend of Zelda manga is the creators’ ability to adjust their tone and style to fit the requirements of a given series. Himekawa’s skill and flexibility as artists can be seen as they move from one adaptation to the next, but can also be exhibited within a single manga. In Twilight Princess specifically there is a wonderful contrast between the serene, pastoral setting of Ordon and the ominous darkness and shadowy creatures encroaching upon it. The artwork in Twilight Princess is beautifully executed, ranging from the gorgeous to the grotesque as demanded by the story. In comparison, the storytelling itself isn’t nearly as strong. The first chapter of Twilight Princess in particular suffers from some awkward exposition and Link has a tendency to ask questions that he should already know the answers to having lived in Ordon for so long. Still, I do like the story, characters, and settings of Twilight Princess. In the past, Himekawa’s The Legend of Zelda manga have only been one or two volumes long. I would be surprised if Twilight Princess could end satisfactorily in such a short span, so I hope that the series will be longer to allow the story to unfold more naturally; I enjoyed the first volume of Twilight Princess a great deal and look forward to reading more.

Thank you to Viz Media for providing a copy of The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess, Volume 1 for review.