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Reviews

Skip Beat!, Vol. 38

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By Yoshiki Nakamura. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Tomo Kimura.

This volume has been a long time coming. 38 volumes, to be precise. And I’ve sort of known in the back of my head that we would eventually have to deal with it, and I’ve been half dreading and and… well, no, all dreading it. Because Kyoko is a child of abuse. Not physical abuse – as this volume takes pains to point out, by the way – but mental and emotional abuse. Along with Sho’s casual cruelty, it’s what has shaped Kyoko’s actions to this day. Her mother was cold, always regarded her with scorn, and later on insisted she had no child. Kyoko has had nervous breakdowns just thinking about her. And now we’re finally getting the backstory and explanation for what happened with Saena in the past and how, presumably, she came to have Kyoko. And of course it’s very well written, because Nakamura is excellent at this sort of thing. But I will stay worried till the 39th volume comes out. Thinking “will this be another easily forgiven abusive parent?”.

As I mentioned earlier, the writing in this volume is top notch. 38 volumes in, we know these characters better than almost any other translated shoujo manga out there, and we’re still getting new depth and layers. (Watch for Maria here, who I don’t think we’ve even seen in over a dozen volumes, being mature enough to realize that now is not the time to talk to Ren.) Oddly, it’s Ren who provides most of the lighthearted comedy in this otherwise serious volume, as his reactions to Kyoko’s moodswing flipouts are brilliant, and his teasing of Yashiro is also wonderful. But the volume is subsumed by the confrontation between Kyoko and her mother. Again, we get to see Kyoko’s growth and maturity in action – in fact, Nakamura lampshades it, showing that Kyoko is now able to look at Saena’s seemingly cold face filled with hatred and see nuance and layers that she had missed as a child. This comes from her observational skills as an actress, and I feel proud of her.

It just so happens that it was Kyoko running off to be with Sho at the start of the series that really set Saena off, as it reminded her of her own manipulation by a man in the past. (Speaking of which, Misonoi is a top tier smiling villain, and I hope he gets the shit kicked out of him in the next volume, though am realistic enough to know he likely gets away with everything.) Saena is really well done here, much as my teeth were grinding at times. “I was terrified that I would hurt you” made me want to reach out and slap a “YOU TRIED” sticker on her forehead. But of course, the main issue with this otherwise excellent volume is that we end mid-flashback, and I don’t know how things will ultimately be between Kyoko and Saena. And since we’re caught up with Japan, I have till September to cool my heels. But either way, this volume is a must read for any shoujo fan.

Spirits & Cat Ears, Vol. 1

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By Miyuki Nakayama. Released in Japan “Kudamimi no Neko” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Leighann Harvey.

Sometimes, when you read a series, you are inevitably reminded of another earlier series, to the point where you can’t escape thinking about the similarities. Early volumes of Fairy Tail scream “this is One Piece, but at Kodansha”, for example. returning the favor, Black Clover’s early volumes have a very Fairy Tail quality to them. And this new series from Yen, Spirits & Cat Ears, has the same problem, as it’s hard to start reading it without thinking of another, recently completed series that Yen put out, Inu x Boku SS. In fact, given the really obvious similarities and the fate that the late Cocoa Fujiwara even has fanart at the end of the volume, I wonder if Nakayama-san is a former assistant of Fujiwara-san. That said, while there are obvious similarities, Spirits & Cat ears runs in Comic Alive, not Gangan Joker. And you know what that means: fanservice.

It’s actually rather surreal in many ways. Inu x Boku SS, like a lot of Gangan titles, had a large crossover female audience, and you can tell the series would not seem out of place in, say, Zero-Sum or Asuka. Spirits & Cat Ears has a similar premise – young people with powers paired up with attractive older men – but Comic Alive is decidedly a male-oriented magazine, and so… well, take a look at that cover. Neneko is also the “shy, constantly apologizing” sort of heroine, which unfortunately means she’s a pushover when she tries to stand up to her familiar, Shichikage. Ririchiyo could also be manipulated by her own lover/bodyguard, but at least she could not be described as a pushover. A lot of the plot to Spirits & Cat Ears revolves around “bring Neneko out of her shell”, which involves enforced socialization and annoying “punishment outfits”.

This is a ghosts and exorcism manga, and so you get the occasional tale of possession and the like, but the focus is firmly on Neneko rather than the situations she gets herself into. She’s joined by a seemingly sullen but really just shy fellow exorcist, and after the predictable misunderstanding the two become close fast. As for Shichikage, he too feels very much like the sort of guy you’d meet in a shoujo manga. Unfortunately, it’s more the Black Bird sort of shoujo manga hero. He’s right to think that Neneko firming her resolve and stating clearly what she needs him to do will increase her power (and his strength), but his sexualization and fetishization of her is just distasteful, especially as, thanks to the art style, she’s another girl who looks about nine but has a large bust and is really in high school.

This wasn’t completely terrible, but unfortunately the parts of it that were good are the sort of things I get in other, better manga series, and the parts that were bad seemed to stand out more. I’d recommend it to those who like nekomimis or series with a teasing sort-of boyfriend who likes dressing his girl in sexy outfits.

Kase-san and Morning Glories

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By Hiromi Takashima. Released in Japan “Asagao to Kase-san” by Shinshokan, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hirari. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jocelyne Allen, Adapted by Jenn Grunigen.

I’ve always said (perhaps a bit too often) that as long as something is well-written and enjoyable, it doesn’t matter that it’s a hoary old cliche. And likewise, with the yuri genre, just because something is as Story A as it gets does not mean its sweetness and cuteness are in any way diminished. This series is no exception, being light as air but ever so tasty. The girls are nice, their incipient romance is nice, and there is a shot of someone silhouetted against the setting sun, because if you’re going to throw in romantic tropes, you may as well use the kitchen sink as well. All of this adds up to a fun series that will make you smile.

As the author notes in the afterword, the magazine this series runs in is generally about yuri one-shots, and its very easy to tell this is a series of shorts about the same two people. (In fact, future volumes will be “Kase-san and _______” rather than a Vol. 2 or 3.) Kase-san is the tall sporty girl on the cover, a track star and school idol who also has some odd rumors hanging around her. The other girl is Yamada, who is shy and fretful and has a very low self-opinion of herself. You know the sort – there’s no way they could ever be interested in little old me. They bond over flowers, which Yamada is planting at the school, and then there are bike rides and shopping for shoes and blushing. So much blushing. Because, of course, these two girls are really into each other.

Most of the drama, such as it is, revolves around Yamada’s low self-esteem and how it leads her to almost sabotage her own friendship. Luckily, Kase-san is not as clueless as some of these archetypes can get, and so is able to, if not realize what is going on, at least rescue Yamada from being desperately sad. I liked the idea of the marathon, as it allows Yamada to work to improve herself, even though that gets torpedoed by a bunch of jerks running over first her flowers and then her. The volume is done from Yamada’s perspective, though I’m hoping a future volume may have a flasghback showing Kase’s own thoughts on their relationship. It all builts up to a confession and kiss in the nurse’s office, with Kase uncharacteristically unapologetic and Yamada crying in relief.

It’s safe to say that not much happens here – honestly, I’m having trouble filling out my word count. But I’m just so pleased to see Seven Seas putting out stories like these and Kindred Spirits on the Roof rather than “yuri for guys” like Netsuzou Trap. Cute girls meet and like each other. In the end, they kiss. Thankfully, this is not the end, as we’ll see Kase-san and Bento soon. for now, just revel in the adorable.

Anonymous Noise Vol. 1

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Anonymous Noise Volume 1 by Ryoko Fukuyama

I read Anonymous Noise a few days ago, and I’ve had a hard time writing about it, I think because I ended up feeling very conflicted about whether or not I actually enjoyed reading it. It was stylish looking, which I appreciated. The author deployed a great deal of typical shoujo manga plot elements, which I was less than enthusiastic about. Finally, there was a level of angst involved in the relationships between the characters that I actually found intriguing, and will likely keep me hanging on to reading this series in the hopes that it gets a bit better in the second volume.

Childhood friends who are separated and meet again only to fall in love is such a shoujo staple plot element, that I get weary of it if it isn’t executed well. Nino Arisugawa has a habit of developing close childhood friendships with boys only for them to utterly disappear, which will make it very handy for her to have a love triangle as a teenager. Her first friend is Momo, a next door neighbor boy with a habit of making terrible puns. They’re in the habit of singing together. Momo abruptly moves away with his family and while Nino is visiting the sea to scream her agony into it, she stumbles across Yuzu, a kid composer who likes to write musical compositions in the sand. Yuzu is also a very familiar character type seen in manga, the short kid who drinks a ton of milk in hopes of triggering a growth spurt. Nino finds a bit of peace when singing Yuzu’s compositions, but she still longs for her lost friend Momo.

Switching gears to the future, Nino starts attending a school where Yuzu is a student. He’s very busy, because he also has the time to be in a rock band called In No Hurry, which performs wearing face masks and eyepatches. Nino and Yuzu reconnect, but it is clear that she’s still nurturing her feelings for Momo. The part of this manga that I found most interesting, and I’m not sure if it was intentional on the part of the author, is that Yuzu’s obsession with Nino as a muse is so clearly unhealthy. He has a girl singer in his band called Alice who is designed with his memories of Nino in mind, and he likens his feelings for Nino as being trapped under the spell of a canary. Yuzu ends up being the most compelling character in this manga, just because he wears his emotional agony on his sleeve. No surprise, Momo is attending the same high school, and shows up around Yuzu to make a few bad puns and then disappear in an enigmatic fashion.

The art is stylish, if a bit generic. I enjoyed the edgy costumes for Yuzu’s band. A couple moments in the manga that stood out to be as being particularly well-executed were a scene of Nino and Yuzu reconnecting through music in a practice room, and an encounter with Yuzu’s band mates that hints at a whole different story of unrequited love. I often feel like some manga series need at least two volumes before passing judgement on them, and I’m hoping that the second volume of Anonymous Noise has less shoujo cliches and more teen angst because the potential is there for an entertaining music infused teen soap opera, but I’m not quite seeing that yet.

Tokyo Tarareba Girls, Vol. 1

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By Akiko Higashimura | Published digitally by Kodansha Comics

I spent all my time wondering “what if,” then one day I woke up and I was 33.

Thirty-something Rinko Kamata and her two best friends from high school, Kaori and Koyuki, are still single. They’ve happily spent the last decade getting together regularly for girls’ nights out, during which they get sloshed and speculate on what might’ve happened with past romances or how they might meet Mr. Right in the future. When it’s announced that Tokyo will be hosting the Olympics in 2020 and it dawns on the trio that they might still be single amidst all the celebrating, they abruptly realize that they might have missed their chance to snag husbands.

Ten years ago, Rinko had a chance with Mr. Hayasaka, a dull but sweet coworker, but rejected him. Their work—she’s a scriptwriter and he’s a producer for a television production company—still brings them together, however, and when she seemingly has a second chance, she considers accepting this time, wondering if women must choose being loved over being in love once they’re over thirty. Of course, she’s drunk at the time, so her thoughts are whimsically presented in the form of conversation with her snacks! Specifically, tara (milt) and reba (liver), whose names combine to mean “what if” and thus supply the pun of the series title. They’re cute little creatures, and tara especially gives me some Little Fluffy Gigolo PELU flashbacks (in the best way).

Of course, we wouldn’t have a series if things worked out with Mr. Hayasaka, and losing out to younger women in romance, work, and at a courtship party, where the “tarareba girls” discover that even schlubby guys their age have pretty young things competing for them (because the younger guys are all under- or unemployed), sends her somewhat off the rails, hopping in a taxi to capture some blackmail evidence and winding up at a hot springs resort, drinking alone and feeling unwanted until Key, a snarky male model who’s observed the rowdy trio at their favorite pub and was critical of Rinko’s writing—essentially unrealistic wish-fulfillment fare for daydreaming middle-aged women—shows up to forestall disaster and ends up proving himself to be the ultimate “what if” scenario that Rinko hadn’t even considered. Plus, he encourages her to see her recent failures as a chance instead of a setback, and I hope this means we’ll see her write what she claims she really wants to write and achieve success after all.

This is quite a madcap volume, what with the talking food, and there are also several quick cuts to Rinko guzzling alcohol that make me think this would be extremely amusing in either animated or live-action format. I also really like the way we her conversations with friends via text are depicted. Ordinarily, I might be bothered that these ladies are so fixated on husbands, but Higashimura-sensei has some author’s notes at the back wherein she makes it absolutely clear that she does not think that marriage is the key to happiness or that it’s a requirement for women. It’s just that she had some friends who were beginning to experience some of these things, and she decided to write about them.

Before Kodansha’s announcement, this series hadn’t even been on my radar, so in addition to being grateful for more josei in any format, I’m especially glad to be introduced to this fun story. I’m looking forward to volume two!

Tokyo Tarareba Girls is ongoing in Japan where it is up to seven volumes.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Chihayafuru, Vol. 1

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By Yuki Suetsugi | Published digitally by Kodansha Comics

Chihayafuru is a long-running josei sports manga series about a girl who discovers a passion for the Japanese card game, karuta. The very factors that made me sure I’d love the series also made it an unlikely licensing prospect. Happily, Kodansha Comics has started releasing it digitally! I still can’t quite believe that it’s really happened.

In the opening pages, we get a glimpse of a teenage Chihaya Amase during an intense match, then promptly travel six years into the past. At twelve, Chihaya had no dream other than seeing her older pageant-entering sister, Chitose, become “number one in Japan.” When she befriends transfer student Arata Wataya, who’s been shunned by classmates for his poverty and regional dialect, he tells her that her dreams should be about herself. Fired up by Wataya’s speed and intensity at karuta, Chihaya can’t help but attempt to score at least one card off of him, and the delight on Wataya’s face as he finally makes a friend who shares his passion is poignant.

As Chihaya (and the audience) learns more about karuta, Wataya eventually gains the respect of his classmates for his skill, prompting Taichi Mashima, the ringleader of the bullies, to cheat against him in a school tournament. I quite liked that we see Mashima’s motivations—his horrid mother flat out tells him that if you don’t think you can win at something, you shouldn’t even try—and that, afterwards, he makes his own decisions about what is right and what is important to him. The three kids become friends and, after joining a karuta club in their neighborhood, conclude the first volume by entering an elementary tournament as a team.

In several ways, Chihayafuru reminds me of Hikaru no Go. You’ve got the sixth-grade protagonist discovering enthusiasm for a traditional game. She makes a small group of friends who share a deep love of the game, and they compete together as a team. And yet, there is the inescapable fact that they won’t be able to stay together forever. Mashima’s path will take him to a prestigious middle school while the ill health of Wataya’s grandfather compels him to return to his hometown. Will Chihaya continue on her own? Presumably, like Hikaru, she will make new friends at each stage of her journey, and potentially face Wataya again as a rival in future.

As usual, what I really loved most was Chihaya finding the place she belonged, and the outlet in which her specific skills—quick reaction time, acute vision, and an extremely keen sense of hearing—are recognized and appreciated. Her sister becomes positively odious as she realizes Chihaya now has something in her life to work towards besides Chitose’s fame—“All Chihaya needs to do is look at me and tell me how amazing I am”—and I wonder how far she’ll go to sabotage her little sister’s ambitions, but the opening pages show us a Chihaya still deeply dedicated to the game, so I’m sure she’ll remain undeterred.

I really, really loved this debut volume and eagerly look forward to more!

Chihayafuru is ongoing in Japan, where the 34th volume will be published next week.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Bakemonogatari: Monster Tale, Part 2

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By NISIOISIN. Released in Japan by Kodansha. Released in North America by Vertical, Inc. Translated by Ko Ransom.

One of the things I enjoy about the first few volumes of the Monogatari books is that each new story begins with the girl from the previous story having a long conversation with Araragi where they basically take on the role they’ll play in the books from this point forward. In the previous volume’s Mayoi Snail, Senjogahara showers Araragi with abuse and teasing affection. And here we have Suruga Money, in which Mayoi reappears and begins to function as Araragi’s sounding board and life advice coach, and Nadeko Snake, in which Kanbaru shows off that she was actually holding back in her own story, and becomes the only person in the cast who can be more perverse than he can. (This works in Japanese publication order, by the way, and continues at least through Nekomonogatari Black, which starts with a long scene with Araragi and his sister Tsukihi.) The first two books introduced Araragi and began to give him a “harem”, so to speak – this second book expands on that.

The stories in Bakemonogatari were originally written as short stories for a magazine, and it shows – each story has the introduction at some point of Araragi, Shinobu and Meme Oshino and explains his nature, for readers who had not read the previous stories. Not that Shinobu plays a part in this book – she’s still silent, apparently sulking as Oshino is stealing her Mister Donuts stash, and functions mostly as a maguffin to power up Araragi so he can battle oddities. For the most part, each story in this is devoted to showing us the new girl. This works quite well in Kanbaru’s case. Her overly solicitous politeness is perfectly translated, and you also see the frustration and rage she normally keeps well-hidden. She’s a good kid. She’s also a “pervert”, i.e. happy to talk about sexual matters with Araragi till she’s blue in the face. And she’s a lesbian, something she admits herself, though the text goes on to use the alternate term “sapphist”, which, as Araragi points out, is the same thing. (One could argue she flirts incessantly with Araragi in the following story, but I maintain that she mostly does this for appearance – much like many other characters in Monogatari, especially Araragi himself.) Her story is the strongest, flagging only when we have to read a very long battle scene from Araragi’s narrative POV – it gets tedious, and makes you realize why Nisioisin does so much dialogue – he’s better at it.

As for Nadeko… without spoiling anything about future volumes, we’re left with an okay story that works best when Nadeko isn’t in it. Araragi and Kanbaru’s banter at the start is probably the high point of the book. Nadeko herself is painted entirely as a shy, innocent victim, forever looking down or away from the two of them. Her “monster” problem is quite sexualized, which is uncomfortable given she’s only in junior high, but if that really makes you uncomfortable you’d better jump off now before we get to Nisemonogatari, as it will only get worse. In the context of future volumes, there’s lots of subtle clues and hints in here, a few of which I think are deliberate. But without that context, this story sometimes just lies there. It’s the weak link of the five.

The third volume will contain only one story, Tsubasa Cat, and you can probably guess who stars, though if you read these two volumes and think we’re finally getting a flashback to what happened during Golden Week, you’d be wrong. It also doesn’t have quite as much Kanbaru, which is a relief even though I love her. The translation is, on the whole, excellent throughout, but Vertical has decided not to have honorifics, and as such Kanbaru’s constant “Araragi-sempai” is turned into “My senior Araragi”, which is fine initially, but after the first hundred or so times you realize how OFTEN she uses his name, and it begins to wear. (Mayoi’s “Mister Araragi” works better.) I understand why they chose not to have the honorifics, but I suspect I might find it a bit more comfortable if Kanbaru’s use of -sempai was removed rather than adapted, even if that affected the politeness level. Other than that, though, this is good volume of Monogatari, if not quite as good as the other two.

Anonymous Noise, Vol. 1

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Anonymous Noise is to manga what “Talk Dirty to Me” is to contemporary hit radio: both have a killer hook — that plot! that sax! — and inane lyrics.

The story begins with a vorspiel of sorts. Nino, a tot with a golden voice, bonds with her next-door neighbor Momo, who shares her enthusiasm for singing, if not her sense of pitch. The two are inseparable until Momo’s family abruptly moves away. While pining for her lost friend, Nino crosses paths with Yuzu, a short, feisty songwriter whose tunes help Nino discover her true potential as a vocalist. He, too, unexpectedly skips town, leaving Nino despondent once again — so despondent, in fact, that she begins wearing a surgical mask to prevent herself from screaming. (No, I’m not making that up.)

Flash forward to the present: Nino is now in middle school, roaming the halls in a mask and obsessing about Momo. A chance encounter reunites her with Yuzu, who’s penning tunes for the school’s struggling Popular Music Club. What Nino doesn’t realize is that Yuzu’s bandmates are, in fact, members of In No Hurry to Shout, a pop act as famous for their identity-concealing costumes as their chart-topping songs. (Apparently no one else has put two and two together, either, as the snotty school council president regularly threatens the club with termination.) Nino agrees to sit in for the club’s vocalist, unwittingly auditioning for In No Hurry to Shout in the process.

Despite its soap-opera plotting, Anonymous Noise never gels into a compelling story. One contributing factor is the characters, who are barely fleshed out. Nino, for example, is defined almost exclusively by her capacity for self-pity; she mopes incessantly, mooning over Momo as if he’d just moved away. (Six years have elapsed since Momo’s family skipped town.) Her romantic prospects are also one-note characters: Yuzu is a blustery jerk who yells, cajoles, and insults Nino, while Momo is sweetly chivalrous, the perfect boyfriend-in-training.

Another contributing factor is the lackluster artwork. Though other characters gush about Nino’s voice, Ryoko Fukuyama never *shows* us that Nino has the goods. We see close-ups of Nino’s gaping mouth and a smattering of musical notes whenever she warbles a tune, but we could just as easily infer that she was shouting, yodeling, or yawning from the lifeless, unimaginative way in which she’s drawn. A quick glance at Nodame Cantabile, Your Lie in April, Ludwig B., solanin, or Nana, demonstrates that it *is* possible to show how much physical effort it takes to produce a good sound, and what effect that sound is having on the audience. While such gestures don’t replicate the full experience of hearing a great band in person, they suggest what it might be like — something that Anonymous Noise fails to do on any level.

The bottom line: Anonymous Noise is too bland to be memorable, and too earnest to be fun. Not recommended.

ANONYMOUS NOISE, VOL. 1 • BY RYOKO FUKUYAMA • VIZ MEDIA • RATED T, FOR TEEN

Fate/Complete Material, Vol. 2: Character Material

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By Type Moon. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by Udon Entertainment. Translated by M. Kirie Hayashi.

I didn’t review the first of these artbooks when it came out three years ago for several good reasons. I wasn’t really into Fate then, I almost never buy artbooks in general, and I’m not sure exactly how I’d have reviewed it, except to point at it and say “Oooooh, pretty!”. The first volume is subtitled “Art Material”, and is what it says, showing off the big cutscenes and promotional materials for the visual novel. It’s gorgeous, and I recommend it, but you can’t talk about it for 500 words. That’s not a problem with the second artbook just released by Udon. This gets deeper into each of the characters in the original game, showing all their sprites, discussing their character with the writer and illustrator in great detail, talking about the weapons used in the VN, and also showing off the original character sketches and commenting on them. There’s a lot more text here.

For the most part, this book limits itself to the characters from the original Fate, though it does assume that the reader is at least aware of its sequel, Fate/Hollow Ataraxia, as Bazett comes up in the ‘character relationship’ charts and is mentioned once or twice. We get long sections devoted to each of the three heroines, reminding you just how many sprites there are of each of them. Shirou, obviously, gets far less page time, as being the player character his sprites were rarely seen. We discuss why everyone loves Saber and how on earth she does her hair up like that (they agree she uses magic to achieve it), how much the strength of Rin as a complete character took the creators by surprise, and also how difficult they found it to distinguish Sakura and not make her main design “too boring” (the dangers of being the good, sweet girl).

Other surprises that I found within were the fact that Taiga, one of the most comedic characters in the game, was originally going to be a mature “big sister” type – and also get killed off, potentially. Needless to say, when the Taiga we know came into being the death got deep-sixed, and instead we get things like the Tiger Dojo. If you look at the character sketch section, you can see Taiga’s original design, and in fact it’s Ayako – something the authors readily admit, the illustrator just repurposed the old Taiga sketches for Rin’s friend. I was also amused at the discussion of Rin’s other friends, who only appear in the opening prologue. You wonder why they bothered to have sprites at all, and the creators explain they were told to add some as it was felt there just weren’t enough characters.

There’s three more artbooks after this, though I don’t know if Udon has licensed them all. The third shows us backgrounds, Tiger Dojo stuff, and the new CG and sprites added for the PS2 version; the fourth goes into all the other Fate spinoffs that aren’t Ataraxia (at least, spinoffs at the time the book came out, which was six years ago), and the 5th is the Ataraxia-focused book. If they’re anything like the job Udon has done with this artbook, they’ll be a treat. Essential for Fate fans.

How a Realist Hero Rebuilt the Kingdom, Vol. 1

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By Dojyomaru and Fuyuyuki. Released in Japan by Overlap, Inc. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Sean McCann.

There is a certain variety of story that has been seen more and more often lately. It usually is fanfiction, but as we’ll see, doesn’t always have to be. It usually involves the author (almost always a young male in their late teens or early 20s) reading a work and liking the general idea, but feeling the execution just wasn’t… badass enough. Or the main character was friends with the wrong people. Or the world was run in a nonsensical way, and things would be far better if everyone just had more common sense and thought things through. (These stories also usually involves a large number of heroines deciding they’re OK with sharing the love of the hero in happy polyamory, possibly as they were mostly written by late teen-early 20s boys.) The most famous example is probably Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, but if you’re looking for something along those lines but in an original work, Realist Hero may be right up your alley.

“But wait,” you say, “I thought you said this wasn’t fanfiction!” Indeed, it’s an original story in the isekai genre, of a young man summoned to another world to defeat a demon king, but who instead puts his college learning to good use teaching modern politics, economic theory, and the essentials of running a city to good use, becoming the king and ending up engaged to the crown princess seen in the cover. “But… that’s Saber, right? Saber Red, to be precise.” Don’t be silly, that is not Saber Red. It merely looks just like her. Not a surprise, as the illustrator’s pixiv page basically contains the cover for Realist Hero 1 and a ton of Fate/GO art. That is Princess Liscia, who warms to our hero over the course of the book, acts as a student for all the modern ways he’s teaching them, and in return teaches him about the little known facts of their fantasy kingdom, like the polyamory. Which is probably fortunate as he also gets a hot elf bodyguard and singer/temptress/big sister figure to fall for him (I’m ignoring the loli for the moment), and seems to be adding a feisty young dragonet noble, manipulative princess of the country next door, and tsundere thief to the mix in future books.

I’ve been fairly glib in this review, but I will happily admit the book is something of a hoot to read. It wears its heart on its sleeve, and while I wish it would tone down the Machiavelli (using The Prince as a guidebook on how to run a country is never, IMO, a good idea, especially as some scholars think The Prince was meant to be satire), the lead is actually likeable and not the massive jerk you sometimes see in these sorts of stories. His suggestions are sensible, but don’t always work out perfectly, and I like the fact that we move forward over several months as the book progresses. (There’s also a narrative device where sometimes we hear “little did they know that in thirty years time, this would become etcetcetc.”, which I also liked.) If you’re looking for an isekai that’s light, breezy fun (though the second volume implies there may be war on the horizon), this should fit the bill nicely.

Erased, Vol. 1

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By Kei Sanbe. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Boku Dake ga Inai Machi” by Kadokawa Shoten, serialized in the magazine Young Ace. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Sheldon Drzka.

I didn’t really know much about this going into it at all. The author is known for dark psychological stuff, and this title certainly qualifies. It also had an anime, which I also haven’t seen. I was thus unprepared for what a good, solid mystery series this would be, with several surprising fake-outs, both plot and character based, and a likeable but very flawed lead hero. It also seems to be examining child abuse, something I’m always pleased to see in Japanese manga, though sometimes I feel it only glosses over the root issues. That doesn’t seem to be the case here, though, and Erased is not only well-written but emotionally raw – it took me a while to finish the volume as it was hard to read in one sitting.

Our hero is Satoru, a wannabe manga artist who unfortunately is somewhat withdrawn and reserved – his manga fails because he doesn’t put enough of himself into his work. We gradually discover this is partly due to a tragedy that happened to him as a child, which he has been repressing memories of. His non-manga job is pizza delivery boy, where he has somewhat stilted conversations with his cute co-worker, who he feels is too young for him and in any case isn’t interested in him anyway. He also has a strange ability to “fix” things that are about to happen, which may or may not be tied into the past tragedy he had. When a tragedy is about to occur, he times loops for a few minutes till he can identify and fix what’s going to happen. Of course, sometimes he’s not there to fix things. And when his mother is murdered, partly as a result of something he thought he’d fixed, he collapses and finds himself back in elementary school, reliving his childhood to try to erase the original tragedy.

Satoru is not all that likeable a hero, but in a character development sort of way rather than an aggravating way. He’s our POV character, so for a time we tend to agree with him – in the early pages, his mother comes across as rather pushy and annoying, and it’s only as the series goes on that we see how smart and together she really is. As a kid he still has the memories of his 29-year-old self, but manages to act like a child most of the time anyway – I particularly liked his thinking something blunt and saying it aloud without realizing it at the same time. We also meet the truculent and reserved Kayo, who was the girl whose murder was the start of the tragedy he’s now trying to prevent. His attempts to stop the murder, save her from an abusive household and bring her out of her shell are awkward yet heartfelt, and seem true to life – or at least as true to life as a Peggy Sue time travel mystery can be.

This is being released here, I believe, in four omnibuses, and I’ll definitely be picking up the second one. It makes for unnerving and difficult reading at times, but it does what you want a new series to do – it makes me want to read on to find out what’s happening next.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, Parts One and Two by J. K. Rowling, John Tiffany, and Jack Thorne

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Note: This is the rehearsal script edition. A definitive collectors’ edition will be released at a later date.

hp8Harry Potter and the Cursed Child joins Buffy the Vampire Slayer Season Eight in the category of “ostensibly canon series continuations that I shall henceforth pretend do not exist.”

The play begins with an abbreviated version of the Deathly Hallows epilogue. Albus Potter, Rose Granger-Weasley, and Scorpius Malfoy head off for their first year at Hogwarts, where Albus and Scorpius are soon sorted into Slytherin. That’s an interesting development and I was still rather optimistic at this point, but sadly there’s hardly any exploration of this event before Albus is in his second year. Then third. Along the way there are brief episodes of scorn and failure and glimpses of his strong friendship with Scorpius—along with lines like “he’s all I need” that make me want to see them fall in love—but it’s all very cursory.

On the eve of his fourth year, Albus happens to overhear Cedric Diggory’s family asking Harry (now head of Magical Law Enforcement) to use a recently confiscated time-turner to go back and save Cedric. Harry declines, and Albus—who has become a surly teen full of angst and bitterness—decides that he and Scorpius are going to show up his uncaring father by saving the day themselves. Of course, they end up screwing up the timeline (though not before successfully accomplishing some things that really ought to have been made more difficult) and the adult characters must help them set things right. Meanwhile, Harry’s scar has started hurting again and he’s hearing whispers of parseltongue.

I would’ve liked this a lot more if it was a book about the boys and their time at school. As it is now, the plot’s too accelerated and simplistic, and there are some scenes with the adult characters that I really could have done without (though I did like seeing Harry and Draco work together to save their sons). That said, probably the best thing about Harry Potter and the Cursed Child is its treatment of Slytherins. Not only does Draco show himself to be a decent, wounded person, but he’s raised a truly adorable, geeky son who has his share of heroic moments. Too, one of the timeline variants allows us another glimpse at Snape, still honoring Lily by fighting for the cause she believed in even when all seems lost.

Ultimately, I’m glad I read it, because I do really, truly love Scorpius. I’d love a whole book about Scorpius, in fact, provided it was a proper book written by Rowling and not more of this.

Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash, Vol. 2

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By Ao Jyumonji and Eiri Shirai. Released in Japan by Overlap, Inc. Released in North America digitally by J-Novel Club. Translated by Sean McCann.

As I have observed many times in the past in my reviews, I am not all that much of a gamer. Sometimes this makes it hard to follow various aspects of Japanese light novels, many of which depend on knowledge of how RPG systems work. But it also means that I may not have the patience for the sort of level-raising behavior that these games, and subsequently these light novels, involve. This second volume does a lot of character building work, and by “a lot” I mean that Haruhiro, Ranta, and to a lesser extent Merry get more development. It’s good development too, as this series has a lot of reflection on the best way to act like a leader or a team player. This does not obscure the fact, however, that the plot of this second volume involves “kill things” for the entire length of the book.

For all that I complain about Ranta, sometimes Haruhiro can also be annoying fro different reasons. He’s never really had to lead before, and has no idea how the mindset of a leader works, and so is constantly doubting himself and criticizing his decisions when things go wrong. He seems to think that this is just him rather than the norm, but I think the problem may simply be that “leader” types never get the inner monologue that we get from him here, and in fact also think about these things all the time. Stepping back and looking at things from an outside perspective, we see he is getting better at making decisions, takes responsibility, and his battle skills are also improving. I think Merry can see this best (I don’t see this series as having much romance, but if it did, they’re the obvious pair).

Speaking of Merry, she’s able to put a few of her own demons to rest in this book, though she notably does not get an inner monologue. Ranta does, though, which confirms a lot of what we already know about him. He’s hotheaded and stubborn, but also tends to act this way as a pose half the time, and is frustrated that the rest of the group doesn’t understand him better – especially as Haruhiro seems to understand the other party members fine. But Haruhiro and Ranta have a complex relationship, more than just boke and tsukkomi, and only time is going to fix that. Luckily, the near loss of Ranta at the climax of the book seems to have united them a bit more closely (if he gets paired with anyone, it’ll be Yume, who’s already sparring with him in best Ranma and Akane tradition).

So good characterization, and the fights are pretty good. That said, if we don’t get something actually happening in the third book besides “kill things, level up”, I may let this series go. It’s a good examination of how “trapped in an RPG world” would go if it were realistic, but it’s sometimes simply too realistic, i.e. it’s a slog.

The Full-Time Wife Escapist, Vol. 1

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By Tsunami Umino. Released in Japan as “Nigeru wa Haji da ga Yaku ni Tatsu” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Kiss. Released in North America digitally by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Rose Padgett.

It is a rare series that can immediately win me over within the first five pages. In fact, I’ve long been an advocate of giving series a chance beyond one volume, especially if they are of the “horrible person is changed by the plotline of the manga” type stories. But sometimes I start a manga and I know immediately I’m going to fall in love with it. This is that sort of manga – when I saw Mikuri being “interviewed” about the difficulties she’s having with her life, and realized that she was imagining this in her head, I grinned. And when I saw this would actually be a recurring thing, I cheered. Not only are these segments some of the funniest in the volume, but they also serve to help deepen the characterization of the main heroine, who is otherwise very matter-of-fact and calm. It’s a great device.

The premise is laid out right at the start. Mikuri kept doing college because it was hard to find a job, but now she’s post-grad and still can’t find work, and even temp agencies aren’t working out. She’s living with her parents as well, which proves to be problematic when they decide to retire to the country, meaning she needs work and a place to stay NOW. Luckily, she’s been doing a part-time job cleaning house and basically functioning as a wife-figure for Tsuzaki, an introverted guy who tends to say what he thinks and has minimal social skills. They get on fairly well (it helps that Mikuri’s degree is in psychology, so she’s much better at reading people than the average manga protagonist), and suddenly it becomes apparent that this is a solution to her problems. They could marry on paper, and she could function as a full-time wife (minus wifely duties, so to speak) and get health benefits and the like.

In case you hadn’t already guessed, this is a josei series. It is, in fact, the sort of josei we don’t usually see brought over here – a lot of the josei we’ve seen in the past few years I’ve defined as “shoujo with adults”, as you find the same love misunderstandings, fretting, and breakups that you would in a high school shoujo magazine. This seems more grounded in the real world – indeed, a big surprise for me is how little romance there is in this first volume. Clearly the endgame will be getting these two quirky kids together for real, but I like how it’s a slow burn, and that we’re starting to see it on his end but not on hers. In fact, it’s even bluntly laid out in their agreement that they can see other people as long as they’re discreet. That may be tested soon, as it appears that Tsuzaki’s co-worker may be starting to fall for Mikuri, and his other co-worker seems to have realized their marriage is not a genuine one.

The supporting cast is also good – I particularly liked Mikuri’s aunt, who shows that you can regret not having a romance when you’re in your fifties but still have a happy and fulfilling life. Tsuzaki’s friend Numata is also gay, and occasionally acts the stereotype, but even this is subtler than I was expecting. What I’m left with is a good story with great characters and an interesting style, one that I really want to see play out in future volumes. It also has a live-action series under its belt, so apparently did pretty well in Japan as well. Read this, you’ll love it.

Wave, Listen to Me!, Vols. 1-2

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By Hiroaki Samura | Published digitally by Kodansha Comics

In the opening scene of Wave, Listen to Me! we meet Minare Koda, an attractive twenty-something drinking too much and pouring her heart out to a guy she just met forty minutes prior. She’s ranting about her ex, Mitsuo, and after a certain point, she has no recollection of events. To her surprise, when she’s at work the next day (as a waitress in a curry shop), she hears her own voice being played over the radio. Turns out, the guy she met was Kanetsugu Mato, who works for a radio station and recorded their conversation. (One of the things she’d forgotten was drunkenly giving her consent.) Minare is temperamental and feisty, so when she marches down to the station to give him a piece of her mind, she ends up going live on the air and impressing Mato with her facility for impromptu eloquence.

Bored with doling out radio spots to local idols and placating sponsors, Mato decides that he’s going to mentor Minare and turn her into a radio personality. Of course, the only shift on offer is in the wee hours of the morning once a week, so she can’t quit her waitressing job yet. (She’s always on the verge of being fired as it is.) Still, she begins to truly contemplate her future for the first time. Coworker Nakahara is interested in her, but more in the “one day I’ll have my own shop and I want you there beside me” kind of way. But after she witnesses him offering a new (female) hire a place to stay, her gaze turns ever more resolutely to her new gig.

Volume two is where things really get great. Mato has inventive ideas for Minare’s show, and I think I will let readers discover those for themselves. What I really loved, though, was the continued exploration of Minare’s personality. For example, when she has the jitters and receives reassurance, she cries, “I can feel it rushing back! My usual baseless, overflowing confidence!” She might have come off as an unsympathetic and abrasive character, but that line shows that she’s fully aware of her flaws. Later, after a brief (and awesome) reunion with Mitsuo, she displays a knack for more self-analysis, reflecting that while she usually doesn’t take shit from anyone, she has a certain weakness for pathetic guys who need someone to dote over them. I expect that this capacity for reflection will allow her to make the most of the opportunity she’s been given.

Her path toward achieving success and truly making a name for herself doesn’t proceed in a straight trajectory, especially with financial realities keeping her tethered to the restaurant, but it’s very satisfying to see a formerly unambitious character discover a goal to strive for. The second volume ends in the middle of a show designed to put thoughts of Mitsuo firmly behind her. I am very much looking forward to seeing what lies ahead!

Wave, Listen to Me! is ongoing in Japan, where it is currently up to three volumes.

Review copies provided by the publisher.