Reviews

By Katsuhisa Kigitsu. Released in Japan by Akita Shoten, serialized in the magazine Champion Red. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jocelyne Allen, Adapted by Shanti Whitesides.

More of everything. More outrageous humor, more appalling horror, more of the few sympathetic members of the cast having their lives destroyed in the worst way possible, more of the deeply horrible darkness that is humanity, and so many goddamn Sentinels that you’ll never want to watch sentai shows again. All of this is in the final omnibus of Franken Fran, where the author clearly knows things are wrapping up, and has therefore decided to make this Franken Fran’s Greatest hits. Which is fine, as that’s exactly what we read Franken Fran for. It’s over the top, it goes to far, it’s offensive but hilarious. And in the end you aren’t even sure if Fran is alive or dead.

Of course, sometimes things are moving a bit too fast. The author has a lot of stories to tell, and a limited number of pages in which to do so (he said in one afterword that he was forced to make one into a two-parter). The first story in the volume ends SO abruptly that I actually had to check to verify that we weren’t missing pages (and also gives us a bad end to another likable woman whose only crime is hanging around Fran too much, though like most of this ensemble cast she shows up right as rain again later). The art also seems a little messier than usual, as if it’s simply being drawn to too tight of a deadline. And sometimes the stories don’t really land – I admit that I’m sort of sick of the Sentinels, and didn’t need to see this much of their antics again.

The one story in here that stands out above all others – indeed, I suspect it to be the main reason fans clamored for this to be licensed in the first place – has Gavril hired to come to Fran and Veronica’s school and be a substitute teacher. We’ve seen teachers before who don’t act the part and dispense “real life” advice rather than platitudes, but Gavril takes this beyond eleven, telling guys the proper way to threaten rape on their fellow classmates, giving girls advice on how to get ahead in this world, and basically being the worst Great Teacher ever. Naturally, the kids all love her, mostly as, given that they’re in Franken Fran, the entire school is sort of deeply twisted to begin with. Other excellent chapters involve horror (Fran’s octopus specimen gets stolen, with amazingly dreadful results), humor (the continuing awfulness of every moment of Kuho’s life as a policewoman), or simply tragedy (the other best story in this volume, in which Veronica’s new friend at school takes agency against the adults who are gang-raping her in a particularly vengeful way).

The volume caps off with a dream sequence, after Fran is trapped on an ocean liner that sinks to the bottom of the sea. She dreams of the entire cast coming out to thank her for everything she’s done to them – sorry, I mean for them – over the years. Okita is in a human body, Kuho (and her clones) are happy, hell, even Veronica is briefly happy (so you can tell it’s a dream). And, like the first story in the volume, the ending is sort of ambiguous. Did Fran actually wake up and get rescued? Or is she just dreaming she’s back at the operating table? Franken Fran was a grand horror/comedy mess, and while I think it may have offended more people than it impressed, I always admired its moxie. I’ll miss it.

By Tsutomu Sato and Kana Ishida. Released in Japan as “Mahouka Koukou no Rettousei” by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Prowse.

I had mentioned in my Manga the Week of post that I was very amused at the coincidence that this third volume released only one month after the 9th volume of A Certain Magical Index, which is *also* the first of a two-book arc featuring a sports competition between various schools disrupted by a terrorist attack. (As it happens, they even have the same translator, who must have wondered what god he offended to get these assignments right in a row.) That said, thankfully the books take slightly different tacks. Index is fully concerned with the terrorist attack, and the competition games take something of a back seat. This first volume of Mahouka’s new arc is almost all about the games themselves, with the terrorist attacks only starting to come up near the end. And while Touma may be Index’s star, he rarely completely overpowers the storylines. The same can’t be said for Tatsuya, who is, as ever, the most awesome man to ever awesome.

I say this with affection, of course. I enjoy this series, and frankly if you’re still reading this series and don’t enjoy what they’re doing with Tatsuya after the first two volumes, what the heck is wrong with you? It’s actually helped by how ridiculous it gets – you can’t help but laugh at his discomfort as Azusa gushes about her love of the mysterious student engineer Taurus Silver, and Tatsuya does everything but rub the back of his head and laugh uncomfortably. Not that he would ever do that, as we do get a bit more backstory as to exactly what’s wrong with his basic personality. It’s apparently by family design, and he literally can’t feel emotional extremes. Which is handy if you want to keep your lead male from the standard harem series ‘whoops I walked in on the girls changing’ stuff, but can be a bit off-putting as well, because it’s hard to get a read on Tatsuya even when we are getting his inner thoughts.

We get a new member of his inner circle this volume as well. Mikihiko is a magician whose abilities are sort of being suppressed by a magic accident right now, and so he’s lumped in Course 2 with the rest of the “bad magic students”. Of course, like every other Course 2 student in Tatsuya’s inner circle, Mikihiko actually has brilliant magical control of spirits and will no doubt shine when the story call for it; his issue seems to be more self-doubt and angst. It’s not just him, either; many of the upperclassmen competing in the games feel a bit underpowered compared to our amazing lead, and those feelings don’t just go away. (The women, of course, have no such issues, and clean up in every event – or would, if not given a game-breaking injury by said terrorists.) Magic School is tough, and everyone is having difficulties working under the pressure.

This being the first of a two-book arc (though like the last arc, it seems to stop rather than come to a cliffhanger – did the author write one huge book that had to be cut in half AGAIN?), there’s lots of plot threads introduced that I’m sure will pay off in the second book, including Chinese mafia and a student from a rival school who seems to have fallen for Tatsuya’s sister Miyuki at first sight (boy, is he in for crushing disappointment) .So in the end, there are only two big flaws to this otherwise highly entertaining series. The first is the magical discussion, which goes on and on as if it’s trying to be a textbook as much as a novel. And the second is Tatsuya, who the reader needs to accept really is just that awesome, or they will hate this. I’ve accepted it. Viva Tatsuya!

By Jun Mochizuki. Released in Japan as “Vanitas no Shuki” by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the magazine Gangan Joker. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Taylor Engel.

Steampunk as a genre is usually a sign that fun is about to ensue, and it’s no different in Japanese manga. From Soul Eater to Sakura Taisen, the idea of Victorian fashion and technological advances has always intrigued the promising new creator. And here we have The Case Study of Vanitas, a new series from the creator of Pandora Hearts. (A very new series, in fact – We’re already caught up with Japan, so don’t expect this one to be every other month.) And the story begins with a giant dirigible, looking as ridiculous as you could possibly imagine. Yet all of this is perhaps distracting myself from the simple fact that at its core, The Case Study of Vanitas is a series about various types of vampires and how to deal with them. Yup. More vampires.

My weariness of the glut of licensed vampire titles is well known, but I will quash it when it’s in the service of a good title. And, for the most part, The Case Study of Vanitas is a good title. It’s light and frothy, despite the presence of dark creatures of the night and the occasional horrific death. There’s lots of action scenes in midair, and confrontations on well-lit backroads. Our hero really isn’t the guy on the cover but Noe, a vampire who has come to Paris searching for the mysterious Book of Vanitas, which is said to be able to interfere with the true name of a vampire. Imagine our surprise when he finds the owner of the book after only about 30 pages. This *is* the guy on the cover, who calls himself Vanitas and is seemingly going around trying to be a “doctor” for vampires by using the book.

To be honest, there is one big weakness with the first volume, and that’s Vanitas himself. Normally I’m quite find of the obnoxious guy who rubs everyone the wrong way, but this time he was starting to rub me the wrong way too. Vanitas is simply too unlikable for a series that’s designed to revolve around him. I suspect the author knows this – that’s why Noe fulfills the hero role a bit better – but something just sours me, especially when he forces himself on the Witch Jeanne who’s come to wipe them out at the behest of her young master. I just suspect that I’m supposed to find him funny and amusing in a horrible way, but the horrible is what sticks.

That said, other than its title character, this was a great deal of fun. Lots of vampire lore and blood for those who do love the genre, a few officious bureaucrats and stoic servants, and in the middle of it is Noe, who spends much of the volume staring at Vanitas with a “the fuck?” look on his face. There’s hints of a tragic past with him, which I suspect we’ll get in the second volume. In the meantime, steampunk vampires!

By Satoshi Wagahara and 029. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Kevin Gifford.

The Devil Is a Part-Timer! is one of the few light-novel series currently being released in North America that has not had a multi-volume arc of some kind. By the end of each volume, things are somehow resolved enough that everyone can go back to the apartment complex. And yet each successive volume builds on the last, layering on more backstory revelations, character dilemmas, and (for this particular series) religious imagery until we realize that really, it’s been one big arc all along. Which is just what you want for a series like this. Each new volume makes you want to read the next one immediately. This one in particular, as Maou finally starts to give some answers as to what he was doing back in Enta Isla. Not many, but a few.

Of course, part of the reason that Maou is able to reveal to readers that yes, he was actually trying to conquer the world through war (something he regrets now) is because we now know that he did not in fact horribly murder Emi’s father. She’s still trying to deal with everything she found out in the last book, particularly the identity and status of her mother, and it’s left her a mixture of angry and devastated. Most of these books have been Emi discovering that literally everything she lived her entire life for has been a giant lie, and that a lot of people see her as a giant tool to point and shoot. We’re still nowhere near them being friends, but Emi is finally starting to get to the point where she’s not screaming at Maou every time she sees him, and can work with him against a common enemy, which is happening more and more frequently these days.

And then there’s Chiho’s development, as it turns out that when you fill a girl with divine mystical energies and use her body as a conduit, it can actually have lasting effects. Luckily, this is a still a relatively light-hearted series, and Chiho is so big-hearted, that it mostly means teaching her ways to psychically communicate with the others in case she’s ever kidnapped again – which turns out to be of great use when she is, in fact, kidnapped again. I like the fact that Chiho turns out to be surprisingly adept at magic, to the point where even Suzuno is startled at how fast she’s picking things up, and what she’s doing with it. I also really liked that psychic thought projection is likened to cell phone usage to make things easier to understand, and that imagery may be one reason she’s so good at it.

I’d mentioned in my last review that I loved the pointless daily life segments more than anything else, and while there aren’t as many of them this time, we do get some lovely discussion of how to be a barista. The McRonald’s has now become a McCafe, which means Maou and Chiho will now be serving coffee. This also serves to give us some much-longed for depth in regards to their manager Mayumi, and her discussion of her life’s dream (to be a bartender) leads neatly to Maou discussing his own goals and dreams. Much to his frustration, everyone seems to assume that he’s hiding out in Japan to give up. No, he’s hiding out in Japan to learn how to take over the world… ECONOMICALLY! Because that’s a much less blood-filled way of conquering than the old one. It was nice seeing Maou’s drive to rule the world pop up again, and I suspect the cast will be back in Enta Isla before long – though I assume not permanently.

This series continues to be top-tier. Great plot, the backstory hangs together, the characterization flows smoothly, and the narration can sometimes be quite witty even though it’s third person. I would say I can’t wait till the next volume, but Vol. 7 appears to be a short-story collection, so I’ll likely have to wait till Vol. 8. That’s OK. Like Maou, I’m patient.

By Kafka Asagiri and Sango Harukawa. Released in Japan by Kadokawa Shoten, serialization ongoing in the magazine Young Ace. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Kevin Gifford.

I often regret that I haven’t read as much classical Japanese literature as I should. To be fair, a great deal of it is not translated into English, but there’s a ton that is as well, and for all that I’ve wanted to read No Longer Human, it sits on my phone with about 80 million other books I tried to read and then got distracted by. But I suppose I’m going in with the wrong mindset, as I don’t really want to read these works for their literary value, but in order to understand what the hell is going on in all the manga that make references to them. And honestly, do I know any other Dazai than No Longer Human? Did I even know the classic film Rashomon was based on a short story? And if I knew the literary references that flit throughout the first volume of Bungo Stray Dogs, would I find it more interesting than I did?

Without the literary references, what we have here is a somewhat standard superhero team-up story. Our young hero is an abandoned orphan fleeing a monstrous tiger creature that’s been following him around and wreaking havoc; he sees a very eccentric young man supposedly trying to kill himself in the nearby river and rescues him, and their two lives become intertwined. It turns out that a) the supposedly suicidal young man (like Zetsubou-sensei, it’s played for laughs throughout) is part of a group with powers who form a detective agency, and b) our hero IS the tiger that follows him around – that’s his power, though he’s been sort of suppressing it. After a brief test to see if he has the skill and compassion to make it in their agency, he joins up with them and they battle a mafia kingpin who uses his powers not for niceness, but for evil.

The literary references come in because they’re all named after famous Japanese authors and poets, and their powers are based on their most famous work. Dazai is the eccentric man, and his power is No Longer Human. The villain, Akutagawa, has a power called Rashomon, from the short story of the same name. And so forth. Without this, unfortunately, you’re mostly left with something that we’ve seen a lot of before, and I’m not sure the gimmick is enough to keep me interested. It doesn’t help that we get brother/sister incest used for humor value, something that can be done with a light touch, but rarely is a light touch used. There’s no doubt this is popular – it spawned an anime, and the cast are attractive bishies who snark at each other much of the time. The action scenes are also pretty well done. But I’m not sure that’s enough to make me come back. It’s good, but lacks that certain something.

By Reki Kawahara and Hima. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Jocelyne Allen.

Much as I said last review that this one was probably going to be nothing more than a string of fights, that doesn’t appear to be the case. Bar the beginning, where despite everything Haru and Chiyuri do indeed succeed in punching hope into Takumu, this volume is a bit of breathing room in the midst of what has become a 4-volume arc. What this volume actually ends up being is a giant pile of good times for Haru, as if the author knew that too much bad stuff had rained down on him lately and so is trying to make up for it here. We get the renewed bonds of friendship, some cute ship tease, and finally succeed in busting out of the Accel World version of the Imperial Palace. We even get to see Haru bust some moves in a basketball game. No, really.

And look, another cover image that isn’t Kuroyukihime posing half-naked! (Don’t worry, it’ll be back for the 9th volume.) But yes, part of the plot of this book is to show how to move to the next level with the Incarnate system, and apparently it involved confronting what your worst trait is, and turning it into a positive. No prizes for guessing that Haru’s self-hatred and urge to escape his troubles is his big negative – this is what led to Silver Crow in the first place. But now we start to see him consciously apply what everyone else has always known are his good points – his ability to analyze a situation and come up with an appropriate response, combined with nearly infinite compassion. Let me tell you something, I realize that OT3s don’t actually happen in actual anime/manga, and also that the endgame of this series is clearly (and deservedly) Kuroyukihime. But after reading the first third of this book, you too will believe in the Childhood Friends Threesome of Pure Love.

Then there’s that basketball game. It’s not as if Haru magically becomes a good athlete, or even an average one – he literally works himself into unconsciousness. But this is the first time that we’ve really seen Haru take what he’s learned from fighting battles in the Accelerated World and apply it to real life – not in a cheating sense, but in terms of using his brain to analyze the best course of action. It’s telling that the one actual basketball player on the other team gives him respect – he’s earned it, simply by not giving up immediately and coming up with a solid plan. (They do still lose, I mean this isn’t Sword Art Online.)

Naturally, of course, it all crashes and burns in the end. After escaping from the Castle, we find that the ISS-infected users are busy torturing Ash Roller and his child – and likely doing so until they’re both forced from the game forever. Haru’s compassion is a big positive, but when he sees his friends cruelly tortured, it comes out in the worst possible way – revenge. And so the Chrome Disaster is back, and we have yet another volume to try to resolve this. Kawahara says it’s the last one, he promises. He’s said that before, of course. But I don’t mind. It’s a great arc in an underrated series.

By Yui Hara. Released in Japan by Houbunsha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Manga Time Kirara Max. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Amanda Haley.

For the most part, when we’ve seen ‘girls in a high school hang out and do things together’ titles in North America, they’ve tended to be attached to some sort of club or activity. K-On! had its band, Sunshine Sketch and GA Art Design Class both revolved around its specialized art classes, etc. To an extent, Kiniro Mosaic does that as well – this time the theme is “foreign exchange students”. We get one right at the start, and midway through another one pops up – both from England. Thus the theme of this series is supposed to be ‘see the amusing ways that Japanese and British culture can clash’. Of course, like many of these sorts of series, including both K-On! and Sunshine Sketch, the real question involved is “how much yuri tease are we going to get?”. So far, a goodly amount.

Our first exchange student is Alice, who’s actually pretty well-versed in Japanese, and mostly runs into issues with cultural variations and such. She’s staying with Shinobu, who stayed with her in England a year or two earlier. Shinobu is the standard ‘average Japanese girl’ for the most part, a bit dense, but she does have one defining character trait, which is her love of cute things, especially blonde girls. Naturally, she really loves Alice, sometimes a little too much. Adding to this we have the remaining three girls; Youko, who is active and somewhat oblivious; Aya, who is usually the straight man of the group, and seems to have a crush on Youko; and Karen, another exchange student who’s not nearly as good at Japanese as Alice is, and thus speaks somewhat brokenly; she seems to be the ‘baka’ of the group, though as always with these types of series I suspect that ball will be passed around as the plot warrants.

There’s nothing inherently wrong with this book – everyone’s likeable, cute, and amusing. I suspect it may be funnier for a Japanese speaker, who is more readily able to see the cultural differences a little better than I can. That said, there’s nothing yet that really draws me in like the series I mentioned above do. I suppose there’s the potential yuri tease, but unlike, say, Bloom Into You or similar series, I don’t think I expect too much from that front – after all, nothing canonically happened in K-On!, Sunshine Sketch or GA either (though Sunshine Sketch came reaaaaaal close). So it’s definitely worth a read if you enjoy seeing cute girls crushing on other cute girls. But if that’s not your thing, I suspect this really isn’t going to do much for you. It’s light as air. And of course, being the genre that it is, I don’t expect many dramatic moments to advance the plot – there’s only cute, and there is no plot. Even if someone has to move back to England, you get the feeling it will be resolved by the end of the chapter. Mildly recommended to fans of this genre.

By Kumo Kagyu and Noboru Kannatuki. Released in Japan by Softbank Creative. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Kevin Steinbach.

Let’s just get this out of the way right now: Goblin Slayer is filled to the brim with rape, rape threats, forced impregnation, and murder. Every single woman in the book is a target, and while we never see any explicit scenes, we see the aftermath. Combining that with the quite fanservicey artwork, emphasizing boobs and butts, and I feel confident in saying that this series’ entire audience is men, and I can probably narrow it down to young single men in their teens and early twenties. If this sort of thing bothers you, don’t even try purchasing this series. That said, I did actually manage to finish this book, and it is not without some merit, so let’s delve into it.

The series takes place in generic fantasy world X, and I’m not even being sarcastic this time. It’s so generic that no one in the book has a name. Goblin Slayer is the eponymous hero, but the girl on the cover is simply named Priestess, and we also have Guild Girl, Cow Girl, Knight, etcetera. The adventurers in this book take on fantastical creatures in order to protect the land, but also more importantly for money – these adventurers are not interested in the small, minor tasks. Tasks like goblin slaying, for example. Goblins are small and somewhat weak, so no one cares about them. But in groups they’re vicious, and many young adventurer teams have gone out to kill some goblins only to find themselves murdered (men) or raped, bred, then murdered (women). Priestess is the sole survivor of one of those newbie groups, having been saved by Goblin Slayer. Now she assists him in taking out more goblins, as they keep multiplying, and are no longer just the weak mi nor enemies everyone thinks.

The ‘titles instead of names’ thing is meant to be an aesthetic, and I get it, but it also serves to make everything that much more impersonal. I certainly hope they actually do have names and we just never learn them through narrative conceit, otherwise it would make finding your vocation quite easy, I imagine. (I also wish “Cow Girl” had been translated to “Farm Girl”, which would also be accurate and would be a bit less “lol look at her udders”.) That said, as the book goes on, and particularly once Goblin Slayer and Priestess team up with a party of an elf, a dwarf, and a lizardman (who sadly do not walk into a bar, thus ruining the joke potential), we do end up getting more involved in the storyline, and the fights, while excessively violent, are quite well written. There’s a terrific sequence at the end where Goblin Slayer asks the adventurers to help him protect Cowl Girl’s farm from a Goblin raid, and all the seemingly uncaring and selfish warriors gradually all agree because, well, they like Goblin Slayer and he’s asking nicely (and also offering a small reward). It’s a nice scene that shows we can all get along and work together after all.

All of these nice fights and good scenes can’t quite make me recommend the book, though. I think the modern fan term “edgelord” was invented for characters like Goblin Slayer, and the world he lives in is just as “edgy” in a teenage fanfic writer way. Basically, this series is too impersonal and there’s way too much raping. It makes an effort, but I don’t believe I’ll be reading more.

By Nakatani Nio. Released in Japan as “Yagate Kimi ni Naru” by ASCII Media Works, serialization ongoing in the magazine Dengeki Daioh. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jenny McKeon. Adapted by Jenn Grunigen.

One of the benefits of having been around in any fandom or genre for a while is the delight you find when someone takes what would appear to be another old, cliched take on an old, cliched premise and manages to breathe some life into it. I had already heard a lot of positive buzz about this title, but from what little I’d read about, I wasn’t sure what the fuss was about. The premise sounded like Maria-sama Ga Miteru clone #2,739, and the cover, featuring the cool black-haired sempai staring into the eyes of her no-doubt adoring kouhai. What I thought might be the reason it was catching on was the apparent lack of fanservice and “we need to lure in male readers”, which has been very common with the yuri genre lately. then I read the first volume, and I think I know why it’s so popular: Yuu, the main character.

Basically, while Yuu looks to be the main stereotype of the first-year yuri student, complete with handy uniform ribbon that will no doubt become crooked at some point, her personality is nothing like what you’d expect. She was confessed to by a guy who she’d been friends with in middle school, and takes a while to answer him as she’s trying to figure out the best way to do it. Seeing Nanami (the other main lead) forthrightly rejecting someone confessing to her, and getting further advice, gives her resolve, and she is able to say no. The interesting part comes when Nanami confesses that she’s fallen in love with Yuu… and Yuu spends most of the volume realizing she DOESN’T feel the same way. Her heart isn’t pounding. This is a nice reversal of the usual, where it’s the younger girl’s earnest, persistent efforts that eventually make the older girl fall for her (seemingly, usually the second girl will admit she was in love all along.)

Yuu isn’t exactly emotionless, but she’s very placid and calm much of the time, and it shows in her actions and her reactions. I really liked the scene where, after Nanami forces a kiss on Yuu to show that she’s not talking about the “admiration” kind of love, there’s an awkward silence and Nanami asks “what should I do?” Yuu, who knows her yuri cliches clearly, looks away as she asks “shouldn’t I be the one asking that?” As the book goes on, we learn more about Yuu (who has a very normal family who run a bookstore) and Nanami (who has a classmate and best friend who I’ll lay you two to one is secretly in love with her, though that seems difficult to say given how this title has caught me off guard so far), and deal with the Student Council Elections, which Nanami wins with the help of Yuu, who proves to be an excellent campaign manager. Throughout it all, Yuu continues to calmly and somewhat sadly realize that she ISN’T in love with Nanami, and she seems a bit puzzled by the fact that Nanami is seemingly OK with things being one-sided.

Basically, the story and characters here are excellent, and while it may seem like your typical high-school yuri romance, I was surprised several times throughout. Definitely recommended.

By Yuu Kamiya. Released in Japan by Media Factory. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Daniel Komen.

I was not quite as grumpy with this volume of No Game No Life as I was the previous one, despite the fact that it has many of the same problems. It could be that it had more interesting things happen – one fight takes up well over a third of the book – or that the denouement of the Siren thing was slightly amusing, which it was – emphasis on slightly. I suspect, however, that the main reason is that this volume was delayed and delayed and then delayed again, to the point where it now hits nine months after the last. Does absence make the heart grow fonder? More likely I was able to settle in after having forgotten literally everything about the last book, and it took a while to recall. The publisher may have figured this out as well – Vol. 6 has already been delayed a month or two as well.

I’ll start my mentioning what I didn’t care for, and then move on to what I enjoyed. As I observed in the previous volume, Sora and Shiro’s development continues to annoy me, mostly as the author has seemingly forgotten that the dichotomy between “invincible gamers” and “social incompetents” was what made them so fascinating. Here, as in Book 4, they almost never have a breakdown or completely lose it. Part of that is the nature of the game they’re playing in the first half – it requires them to be touching, basically, as they have to function as a pair of wings. But I suspect it’s more that the author just enjoys writing them as smug winners. We do get a little bit more time in their heads this volume, which is both good (Sora) and bad (Shiro’s incestuous feelings).

There’s also the resolution of the Dhampir/Siren plot, which was all right, but I wish more had been done to overcome the “Sirens are bimbos” stereotype. As it turns out the way to solve the riddle and wake the princess is simply not to do what she asks for – if you’re an unattainable love that she can never have, you win. Naturally, this is done with a lot of mental and emotional abuse, supposedly justified because she was so annoying, really. And then there’s Plum, whose surprise reveal wasn’t much of one, but whose other revelation – being a secret mastermind manipulating things – worked much better.

And then there’s Steph, who remains the main reason that I’m reading these books. I sympathize with her over the top suffering, of course, but more to the point, she’s developing more and more into a leader and keen observer every book, and people are starting to take notice – particularly Izuna, who is able to get past her verbal tic to realize that Stephanie is not as dumb as she thinks she is, or Sora and Shiro make her out to be. Of course, in the long run, I suspect this is shaping up for Stephanie to rule over everyone once Sora and Shiro win the game. I also liked the backstory with the Flugel race, and how imagination, curiosity, and the desire to create are what they desperately needed – but only Jibril had. There’s hints of some intriguing backstory, which I’d like to see more of.

So overall a mixed bag, and I think those who have been grumpy about this release won’t stop being so. But it’s still worth a read if you can tolerate twinked-out protagonists and their slangey dialogue.

Given my general tendency of loving fantasy shoujo series, it is no surprise that I’m thoroughly enjoying Yona of the Dawn. In the last volume Yona and her trusty guard Hak have a narrow escape from her pursuers and end up being cared for by a long-lost priest. I think pacing can be so essential for a good fantasy series. A more rushed storyline doesn’t fit in all the world building that is needed to make a series seem believable for the reader. Yona gets to know her rescuers, the priest Ik-Su, and his snarky companion Yun.

I appreciated that there was some time for flashbacks as Yun tells Yona the story of how he became Ik-Su’s helper. The unlikely combination of a street-smart orphan boy and a priest with an inability to focus on worldly concerns like the necessity of shoes is the foundation for a lifelong friendship. As Yun gets to know Yona, he begins to see that she isn’t the pampered princess he was assuming she was. Hak continues to make random flirtatious comments that don’t seem to register with Yona at all, so I’m assuming that any romance will be developing at an excruciatingly slow pace.

Yona has a new direction and quest, as she learns about the descendants of legendary dragon guardians who protected the Crimson Dragon King in the past. She sets out with Hak and Yun to search for these mystical warriors, and along the way she demands lessons in swordsmanship or archery so she can be of more use in a battle. Hak hands her a bow and she dedicates herself to practicing even though she isn’t very good at the start.

There’s something very cozy and reassuring about reading a volume of a shoujo fantasy series like this, being able to settle in and look forward to a long adventure with many volumes ahead to read. This is one of my favorite manga series of the past year.

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 volume sees the completion of the ‘Yuki and Kyo are mirrors of each other’ arc, as we finally get long flashbacks to Yuki’s childhood. We’d seen bits and pieces before, but now we truly see how wretched it was for him, and also how his own life interacted with Tohru’s as a child, and not just Kyo’s. One interesting thing is that we see, not a kinder gentler Akito per se, but an Akito who is at least less mercurial and violent. Sadly, it doesn’t last. Of course, there’s also another purpose to all of this, as the Yuki/Tohru ship is sunk here. I never shipped it, but if I had I’m not sure I would buy Yuki’s reasoning either. That said, we also start to get the setup of Yuki paying more attention to Machi, and also begin to see into her own tragic past.

In between tragic flashbacks we have what is no doubt the funniest arc in the entire series, as it’s the cultural festival and Tohru’s class is doing Cinderella. Of course, the casting is a bit… off, and so after attempting to get everyone to act against their better natures, the script is rewritten (and, my guess is, relies heavily on improvised dialogue). As a result, we have Cinderella-ish, in which Hanajima’s gloriously uncaring Cinderella goes up against her adorable and caring older stepsister Tohru and the grumpy Prince Kyo. Interestingly, this actually ties into Kyo and Tohru’s main story as well, as Cinderella accuses the Prince of being content to “lock himself away forever”, and this clearly strikes a chord with Kyo, who replies seriously, and Tohru, who breaks character to try to stop it.

The second half of the omnibus is mostly taken up with the backstory of Kyoko, Tohru’s mother. This serves several important purposes. First, it fleshes her out, shows us what Katsuya, Tohru’s father, is like (he’s sort of a kinder, gentler Shigure – don’t hurt me, Furuba fans) and how much his death devastates her, to the point where she’s considering killing herself. But more importantly, it serves to show us that Tohru has totally put her mother on a pedestal, and that Kyoko was not remotely the perfect all-loving mother she seemed – in fact, even after her recovery and desire to be a good mother to Tohru, she still seems to have the wild mood swings which have dogged her most of her life. And, once again, we see how the lack of love in a family can lead to things like this – as Katsuya tells Kyoko’s parents, parenting isn’t something that can just be abandoned when you find it too difficult. Something that most of the parents of the cast also need to hear.

There’s still a lot to resolve – the curse, Haru and Rin’s relationship, and whether or not Kureno will watch that DVD all come up in the last chapter – but I’m especially grateful that this is the last review I will have to play “hide the gender pronoun” for. Stay tuned for omnibus 9, containing the volume that broke Furuba fandom more than any other.