Reviews

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.

I’ve discussed before how much Fruits Basket deals with abuse, and it also deals just as much with family. And while the two obviously intersect, especially in this volume, they aren’t always meant to coincide. Not everyone is the same, and no one can go through quite the same situation as someone else. This has shown up most obviously in Yuki and Kyo each being deeply envious of what the other has. In this volume we see Momiji, whose sister has been spying on him and seems to have a sense that they’re related even if she doesn’t know it for sure, choosing to remain apart from her to save his family, even though it hurts him. We also see Yuki, who has mostly repaired his relationship with Ayame (who gets the best entrance in the book here) dealing with the repressive control of his mother, and fighting back against it quite a bit. Yuki is finally growing up.

And then there’s Rin, who’s life is so tragic she doesn’t even manage to get a front cover on the omnibus she most features in. Furuba does a good job, as I said, of showing how abuse affects everyone differently, and I won’t say Rin’s is worse than the others, but it’s certainly more explicit than the others, as we see her family, which had been putting on the facade of happy cheer, break apart with just one innocent question from her. If nothing else, it shows how fragile that facade was – even if she hadn’t asked, I doubt it would have lasted much longer. Rin’s flashback is heartbreaking, as she doesn’t even begin to understand where everything went wrong, and assumes it’s her fault – something her parents and Akito are happy to tell her is the case. Luckily, she has Haru, but she’s not in a headspace right now where she can accept her need for Haru, and so drives him away as well. Basically, Rin is fascinating and makes you want to hug her, except she’d run away.

Rin’s interaction with Tohru is also interesting. Like Hiro, she’s reluctant to accept Tohru as this sort of magical healing waif, which the start of the series may have led you to believe she was. Tohru has issues, though, and it’s in dealing with Rin, who’s actively asking her why, specifically, she wants to remove the curse, that Tohru begins to crack a bit. Rin so far is the only one who’s noticed Tohru is “quietly falling apart”, and the minimalistic look at Tohru’s flashbacks suggest it’s due to her mother and her burgeoning love for Kyo (she also reacts badly when he again implies he’s going to let her move on from him). Tohru has been an all-loving heroine, but not all love is the same, and I think Tohru needs a lesson in that before she can start to genuinely help to break the curse.

This being an omnibus, there’s so much more to talk about. Shigure’s self-analysis of his character, which is wonderful – Rin may hate Shigure, but no one hates Shigure the way Shigure hates Shigure. Akito pushing Rin out the window is the most startlingly violent the series has been to date, and the fact that Hiro saw it explains quite a bit from previous volumes. The student council actually do start to have a major impact on the story here, though they’re still somewhat hermetically sealed off from the rest of the cast, and we learn some of why Kakeru is the way he is – though there’s still his connection with Tohru, which remains mysterious. And then there’s Machi, who’s mostly a cypher, albeit a violent cypher. The joy of Fruits Basket is that the omnibus gives you endless time to reread the series and linger over your favorite parts. Also, Kimi is gloriously awful and I love her.

And next month, we get Sorta Cinderella!

By Izumi Tsubaki. Released in Japan as “Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun” by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the online magazine Gangan Online. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Leighann Harvey.

It’s a stretch to say that reading this series can teach you the ins and outs of how the manga industry works – this isn’t Bakuman, or Even a Monkey Can Draw Manga. But when it’s able to be mined for humor, anything is game. And so we get things like Nozaki trying to draw his shoujo heroine as a superdeformed character, or having a mascot for the series, much like Yukari’s endless tanukis (which litter the cover of this volume, so I can’t even make my tanuki joke at the end of the review). We also get a hilarious look at cover art, where the artist likely has to work with a different editor. There may be a seasonal theme. You may have to try to translate your editor’s art, which shows at a glance why they edit and don’t draw manga. So things are learned, but the humor comes first.

This series does not have plot and character development per se, but there are some amusing chapters that make it look as if things might develop. Mikoshiba discovers the tragic truth behind Wakamatsu’s crush on “Lorelai”, and is as horrified as you’d expect. Waka, meanwhile, continues to think that Kashima is a guy, though the beach episode may have cleared that up – it’s left up in the air. Actually, the beach episode is probably the highlight of the volume – the anime actually adapted it into a later OVA as it was too good not to animate. This features the famous “those are just lumps of fat, aren’t they?” line, Seo stealing the drawstrings of all the boys’ swimtrunks, Kashima and Mikoshiba continuing to be endlessly attractive to the same sex, “I’m wearing that lame pink bra you picked out!”, and more.

As for romance, as you’d expect, it’s status quo. Nozaki-kun is about the comedy. This volume, though, does show how natural Hiro and Kashima are with each other when she’s not driving him to violence, and has some lovely Seo/Waka tease, which is really all she wants from Waka at the moment. The majority of the shipping here, though, is Sakura’s seeming one-sided crush on Nozaki. She even admits to Mikoshiba she’s now too scared to confess as she knows it will just be used for manga fodder. She tries changing her attitude in order to get him to notice her more, but that just makes him worry. In the end, as we know, being herself is the best, even if it means Nozaki is still his oblivious self. The sweetest chapter in the book is the final one, where we flash back to Sakura first falling in love with Nozaki – as you’d expect, it was as much from him being a giant loser as it was his looks – and how she unconsciously influenced his heroine for the manga.

Nozaki-kun remains a wonderfully hilarious title, and now has finally gotten away from the anime, so fans of that will want to pick it up to read new material. Go read it, or the tanuki will be sad. (Oh look, I got to work in the joke anyway.)

By Izumi Tsubaki. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by JN Productions.

I have a confession to make. While I love Oresama Teacher, and try to recommend it to everyone I know, I love some parts of it more than others. And I must admit that whenever the narrative turns its attention back to Mafuyu’s old stomping grounds and her underclassmen delinquents, I groan a little. Mostly the reason is that the cast has become nightmarishly huge – check out both the character sheet at the start of the volume and the relationship chart at the end – but the East High/West High guys aren’t as well defined as Midorigaoka’s cast. Kangawa may be the exception, and I’m glad he’s here at the start, but the beginning of this volume, revolving around Mafuyu pretending to be a boy so that Sakurada (a boy who likes to dress as a girl) can let down another guy who’s fallen for “her”. Mafuyu looks bored, and so are we.

Luckily, the rest of the volume is back at Midorigaokoa, and proves far more interesting, as a new as yet unrevealed antagonist is setting out to go after the Student Council and blame “Super Bun”, which of course means Mafuyu. Her secret identity isn’t threatened, at least not yet, but she’s offended at the very idea of someone using Super Bun for nefarious purposes. Also tying into this is the cliffhanger for Vol. 20, where Hayasaka seems to have almost figured out Super Bun’s true identity. Of course, now that there’s a doppelganger running around, that’s all gone to hell. Speaking of doppelgangers, the most intriguing choice this volume was to have Mafuyu, unfamiliar with the concept, end up being rather terrified of discovering just who it is impersonating her – what if it really IS her evil twin?

The titular teacher also takes a backseat in this volume, with Takaomi reminding Mafuyu how easy it is to impersonate Super Bun but not doing much beyond that – he doesn’t seem to care much about what’s going on as long as it doesn’t impact his bet. Also uncaring is Hanabusa, even though the culprit shoves him down the stairs and breaks his arm and leg. Hanabusa is pretty unflappable to begin with, but this is a bit unusual even for him. I have a suspicion that whatever the explanation for this is, it will prove to be far less threatening than we’d expected.

Despite evil doppelgangers, there’s still plenty of humor to go around, though not quite as much of the standard ‘tsukkomi’ variety. Shibuya and Komori’s budding relationship is still adorable, and the fact that the Public Morals Club has been shunned to an extent also makes life difficult for Yui’s relationship with Wakana – though sadly not for the reason everyone expects. As for Mafuyu, aside from Kangawa’s one-sided crush, there’s no romantic movement here at all. But this is not really a romantic manga, even though it may end up with a pairing. It’s a comedy with lots of kicking ass, and that’s what you get here in Vol. 21, same as you did in Vol. 1.

By Kazumi Kamachi and Kiyotaka Haimura. Released in Japan as “To Aru Majutsu no Index” by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Prowse.

Long ago, before this series was licensed and published, I tried to read a fan translation of these novels. I read eight volumes very easily, then bogged down about halfway through this one. A while later I tried again – and the same thing happened. The read came to a grinding halt. This time, with the official release, I am at last able to get to the end of the book, but I do note that the middle section is still a slog. I’ve complained before that Kamachi loves his worldbuilding more than his actual story and characters, and nowhere is this more apparent than in Kamijou, Tsuchimikado and Stiyl discussing the proper use of magic to try to catch Oriana Thomson. It’s fascinating if you’re a D&D-type gamer who loves learning how to use fictional concepts. For a casual reader it’s absolutely deadly. Be warned.

Introduced in this volume: Misaka Misuzu, Fukiyose Seiri, Oriana Thomson, Lidvia Lorenzetti. We also see Touma’s mother Shiina for the first time with her actual appearance, as opposed to Index’s. Continuity-wise, this takes place, obviously, at the same time as Railgun’s Athletic Festival arc in the manga, though most of the events that happen there take place after all this. It’s about 4 days after the events of Book 8, which is why Kuroko is in a wheelchair, and the Railgun manga may now finally make sense to those who wondered that. The events of the Index movie Miracle of Endymion have also just taken place shortly before this.

This is, believe it or not, the first Index arc to take up more than one book. Given the predominance of multi-volume arcs in light novels these days, you’d think it would have happened before this, but no. It’s also the fist book where Kamachi had to admit in the afterword that he wasn’t sure who the heroine was for this particular book. I sort of see why he said this, given that there was attention paid to several girls, but I think at least for this book, Seiri comes closest to being the heroine. It’s just… Kamijou fails to save her, a rarity in this series. Sure, she’s not dead, but I expect her out of commission for the next book. Personality-wise, many might think she’s another tsundere like Mikoto, but that’s not quite accurate – Kamachi may use cliches, but he’s good at shading them. She’s the ‘class president’ sort, which means she’s uptight and rule oriented, and (the class assures us) she isn’t in love with Kamijou, though that’s somewhat suspect. She also has an eccentric love of online shopping products. She’ll never be relevant again, but she was fun to meet.

Oriana is the villain of this book, and possibly the next. She’s yet another magic world user invading Academy City, supposedly to deliver a weapon that cam take out any Saint from a distance, but in reality her motivations – or those of her partner, Lidvia – are far more apocalyptic. Once again religion is used as sort of a D&D class, and that’s not going to change. I liked that she never used the same move twice, to the point that even if it’s a detriment, she CAN’T. There were also several fun and cool moments in the book, such as the class uniting to get revenge on the teacher who made Komoe-sensei cry, as well as various moments when you realize that behind his ‘normal guy’ facade, Kamijou is actually really, really clever about figuring things out.

Sadly, this is to be continued in the next book, so there isn’t much closure here. Instead, I am left with what I was the first two times I tried to read this: Tsuchimikado telling me about magic use and religious systems for what seems like 800 pages. Luckily, I’ve passed it now, and hope Book 10 is less academically dense.

By Rumiko Takahashi. Released in Japan by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Kaori Inoue, Adapted by Gerard Jones.

When Viz first started its omnibus re-release of Ranma 1/2, I told myself I was going to give every volume a full review, despite the fact that with one or two exceptions there is no plot or characterization development from around Vol. 10 to Vol. 36. And for the most part it’s been a good decision. I’ve been surprised at how much there is to talk about here, and how much more I’m getting out of the series twenty years on. That said, we’re definitely near the end of the series, and it’s starting to show. None of the chapters in this omnibus are horrible, but they are starting to feel tired, and you can sense Takahashi is ready to wrap this up. We’ll begin to see that wrapup with the next omnibus, but for now we have this mediocre book.

There are a few stories that are fairly well remembered by the Ranma fandom, but they ended up being more plotless runaround types than I expected. Ryouga eats a mushroom that turns him into a little kid, and Ranma rapidly follows. While the kids are adorable brats, the emphasis is on the brat part, of course, and so there’s mostly a lot of yelling and fighting. There’s also a lot of Mousse in this book, and readers familiar with my reviews will know that I simply dislike him. Probably the most famous story in the book is the one where the entire family become convinced, after deciding to eat out rather than going home and then returning to find various broken things, that Kasumi has finally snapped and actually gotten angry. It made me wonder if Takahashi was actually following the Western fandom, as a lot of the jokes (and resolution) here could be taken straight from it – except if it were the Western fandom, Kasumi really WOULD have been angry.

There are also some good bits here, as you’d expect for a series of such varying quality as Ranma 1/2. The Valentine Chocolate chapter was genuinely sweet towards the end, and shows off a bit of the ‘yes, they are in love’ that we enjoy so much from Ranma and Akane. And the chapters involving Hinako and Principal Kuno are a Takahashi runaround done right, with great comedy that works, including the revelation of “The Evil Tree… sorry, Three” which had me laugh out loud, and may be the best use of Nabiki ever. And while I felt the whole “Akane’s breasts are growing” arc with Nodoka was drawn out far too long, both that and the previous Nodoka story earlier in the book show this really isn’t going to last much longer – sooner or later, Ranma IS going to meet his mother.

Anyone picking up a 17th omnibus of Ranma is in it for the long haul, of course, and as usual it’s worth getting for the improved reproduction of the art and unflipped state. But we’ve only got two omnibuses to go after this, and I must admit I’m rather relieved.

By Hico Yamanaka | Published by Kodansha Comics

Seventeen-year-old Atsuko is desperate for cash. Her father is an ungrateful drunk, they’re so poor that she’s mocked by classmates for her lack of personal hygiene, and she has resorted to fleecing perverted old men just so she can eat. Shortly after a chance meeting in which she runs into her male doppelganger, Itaru, she is kidnapped by his rich friend, Ryo Sekiuchi, and hired to impersonate Itaru (who has gone missing) for one million yen. Atsuko agrees and tutoring commences. She meets some nice people who are concerned for her welfare and appreciative of her effort, which is something she hasn’t experienced before, and learns that happiness isn’t automatic, even if you live in a huge, beautiful mansion.

I’m on the fence with how I feel about this volume. It’s not nearly as insightful as it could be, and so far the focus is more on Atsuko’s circumstances (first crappy, then unfamiliar) than on Atsuko herself. Her insta-love—after opening the manga by declaring that the greatest misfortune in the world is to fall in love— for Itaru’s friend Nobunari is also completely sudden and unconvincing. A more nuanced interpretation would suggest that Atsuko is so starved for affection that she’ll latch on to any form of kindness, but I have doubts that the mangaka is thinking that deeply about it at all.

That said, there were some things I liked about it. Ryo’s backstory, for example, and his reasons for wanting to protect Itaru from future repercussions from his controlling family. I also like that Itaru may have run off because he is gender nonconforming and that Nobunari seems to be in love with him. It’s probably not good to be more interested in the person who’s off-screen than the actual protagonist, but at least that’s something. Another point in the series’ favor is that it is short. I reckon I like it well enough to see it through to the end.

The Prince in His Dark Days is complete in four volumes. Kodansha will release volume two later this month.

By Ryohgo Narita and Suzuhito Yasuda. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Stephen Paul.

Lately these days when I’m reading light novels I come at it from a different perspective than most North American readers, in that I really am reading it in this format first. I haven’t seen the anime for, say, The Irregular at Magic High School or Strike the Blood, so my opinions tend not to be swayed in advance beyond shamelessly spoiling myself on TV Tropes. But DRRR!! is different – I’ve seen the anime multiple times, and also read Yen’s manga (though the novels have finally passed the manga series timeline-wise), and therefore know where the books are going to go, even if I may be surprised by a narrative quirk or inner monologue. This also allows me to enthuse about characters I love finally showing up, even if it is somewhat baffling as to why I love them.

Case in point: Vorona, one of the two Russians who arrive in this book as professional goons-for-hire. I love Vorona. She’s in my top 5 favorite DRRR!! characters. That said, you’d be hard pressed to see why here, as she’s merely a quirky villain. She speaks in a clipped, soundbite way that not only works very well for a Russian who’s learned Japanese, but also contrasts with all the other Russians speaking Japanese around her, who speak it much more fluently. She’s a repository of useless information, which she doles out to her goofy and somewhat dim partner Slon – be it why cows eating grass makes them fat or why the number 13 is unlucky. And, like the rest of the cast in this series, she’s a little bit broken on the inside, finding her thrills in killing and finding progressively stronger people to fight against. She thinks she’s found someone interesting in this volume with Celty, who is seemingly easily killed only to show up later. Book 6 onward will show more of why I love her.

Knowing the anime can also be a drawback as well, of course. Mikado is written here to be a hopelessly naive dupe, in over his head and trusting Izaya of all people, even thinking to himself that he’s “really a nice guy”, which is so untrue you wonder how on earth Mikado can even survive day-to-day. But as the astute fan knows there’s far more going on in Mikado than just naivete. Aoba can sense it, I think – he sees Mikado grinning as he’s being blackmailed towards the end of the book – but he pretty much thinks he can use Mikado as the public face for his own machinations. This is definitely the first book in a two-book arc, and we’ll learn later on it’s not as simple as that.

As ever with a Narita volume, there’s too much going on here to talk about everything in a review. I didn’t mention Shizuo’s subplot, as Izaya seems determined to irritate him as much as possible, be it sending a young yakuza princess to kill him or framing him for murder. It’s a great plot, and gives us the best interstitial art of the entire series, as Shizuo tries to convince Akane he’s not a bad guy by winking and sticking his tongue out. And Anri’s involved as well, as she also falls under Vorona’s large category of ‘strong monsters that I can try to kill’. And there’s Chikage, the gang leader lothario who’s determined to destroy all the men in the Dollars gang – but don’t hurt the women or you’ll be in trouble. The big downside is, of course, this is all setup. It’s those early episodes of the season that no one liked as they were all preparation for a payoff. Stay tuned for the payoff in Vol. 6.

By Atsushi Ohkubo. Released in Japan as “Enen no Shouboutai” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Weekly Shonen Magazine. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Alethea & Athena Nibley.

It was always going to be difficult, following up on a series as popular as Soul Eater. And so Ohkubo decided to move to a bigger company (this is discussed in an absolutely hilarious afterword where he bemoans, like so many other artists who write for Magazine or Sunday, not getting into Jump) and started a brand new series. This is a bit more realistic than Soul Eater was, which sadly means a bit less gonzo background art details, but it’s still not quite in the real world. It’s a sublte first volume – I went through most of it thinking this was something of a step down from his last work, but as I reached the end of the volume I realized that I wanted to learn more about these characters. Which is all you can ask, really.

Our hero, who looks like Soul with black hair because manga artists have a style, let’s face it, is Shinra, a boy with a tragic past who has dedicated his life to being a hero, and the best way to do that in this world is to become a fireman. Why? Because all over the world people are spontaneously combusting for no reason, and turning into demonic creatures as they do. Shinra joins a squad dedicated to stopping these former humans and sending them to their eternal rest (they even have a nun/exorcist on hand). There are, of course, a few problems. He has a bad habit of grinning widely when he’s nervous or upset, something that always causes people to get the wrong idea. And he’s never done this before, so quickly has to get used to the fact that as a firefighter in THIS world, they will always be dealing with death – in fact, as is bluntly pointed out, they are murdering these people.

Did I forget to mention most of the cast has superpowers? Of course I did, because frankly, a firefighter manga is what I want. But yes, Shinra can run so fast his feet catch fire (or maybe it’s the fire that lets him run fast), and another girl on the squad can’t create fire, but can manipulate it beautifully. We also meet Arthur, who I suspect changed his name to be more apropos. He’s dedicated himself to being a knight – and has a past history at school with Shinra, so they don’t get along, as they both war as to whether knights or heroes are better. (The astute reader, of course, realizes they’re both idiots.) Probably my favorite character was the captain, who has no powers at all, but is a really good firefighter – and dispenses excellent advice.

So yes, a solid first volume, with a better plot and character but less style and moxie than Soul Eater’s first volume. There’s also some fanservice, ranging from mild (a brief shower scene with the two female firefighters) to pointless (one firefighter from another squad seems to have the ability to be constantly groped – mo, really, it seems like it’s her superpower). And we’re also meeting some villains, who no doubt will tie into the death of Shinra’s family. All in all, it’s a promising start.

By Akiko Higashimura. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Kuragehime” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Kiss. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Sarah Alys Lindholm.

After waffling a bit about the first two omnibuses of this series, the third settles in more comfortably into something I’m really enjoying. The characters develop a bit more, though that’s not always a good thing. The humor can be first rate much of the time. And the overwhelming sense of impending doom is done with a light but necessary touch, as we never forget even from the start that Amars’ home is about to be taken away from them – indeed, the owner (Chieko’s mother, who amusingly also seems to be a giant otaku, this time for Korean actors) signs off on selling it, so we’re left wondering what can possibly be left to save it? Ah, but in the best Mickey Rooney/Judy Garland tradition, Kuranosuke has the answer – we’re gonna put on a show!

Actually, the show was my favorite part of this whole volume – not the fashion show that serves as the cliffhanger ending, but the college drama that they all go to see in order to fill up seats, that fires up Karanosuke’s arrogant fashion heart and leads to all this. College productions can be hilarious at times, and the idea of a huge number of Ophelia clones fighting it out over Hamlet is exactly the sort of play you’d likely see in a hardcore drama department. Likewise, the shoestring budget and slapdash costumes also fit in, even if they upset the aesthetic sense. It’s nice to see Tsukimi manage to overcome her introversion and get everyone sewing so we can get the jellyfish dresses, even if I did groan as Kuranosuke once again forced her into a big social situation without telling her.

And then there’s Inari. I still don’t like her – by design, she’s the villain – but I also wasn’t fond of the plotline in this volume. Her faked suicide looked and felt offhand, as if she threw it together uncaringly, though I was fine with Shu being upset about her doing it. The fact that she started to fall for him for real after he hit her upset me a bit, though I know it wasn’t meant to be taken that way. In reality, it’s that he actually cares about her well-being and isn’t just another male body on the sexual corporate ladder. Still, I wish we could have had that without the violence. That said, I was amused at how she seemingly falls apart a bit after that, to the point where she can’t even blackmail him properly.

The rest of Amars also fare well, getting things to do to flesh them out. Mayaya gets the most, of course, as she’s the one with the body of a model and the personality of a fruitcake. We get into the background of the cast in greater depth here – Mayaya hides her eyes as they’re evil-looking, similar to the hero in Toradora!. But everyone in Amars is quick to remind her that they all went through that sort of thing – they were all bullied in school for being different. I’m not sure how long Mayaya’s actual modeling career may last – and I note that if she ends up with the Benz freak it would be hilarious – but it’s amusing and inspiring at the same time.

To sum up, while I still have a few issues with Princess Jellyfish, I enjoyed this omnibus a lot more, and it’s a solid josei title for young women or anyone.

By Hirohiko Araki. Released in Japan as “Jojo no Kimyou na Bouken” by Shueisha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Shonen Jump. Released in North America by Viz Media. Translated by Evan Galloway, original translation and adaptation by Alexis Kirsch and Fred Burke.

Though this is the third arc in the JoJo’s series, it was actually the first released in North America, as Viz released it on its own in 2005. I never read it, mostly as it was the 3rd part of a series, and from what I hear its sales were no great shakes. But now JoJo’s is becoming more of a phenomenon, and the hardcovers seem to be doing OK, and so thankfully we get to read this somewhat in context, as we are introduced to Joseph Joestar’s grandson, Jotaro Kujo, his somewhat airheaded mother, Holly (she must get it from her own mother), and another epic quest, as Dio has returned from the dead to stir up trouble, kill off a few helpless victims, and make life miserable for the Joestars. And so the stage is set for an epic battle. Sadly, the first volume of said epic battle mostly falls flat for me.

Jotaro is Japanese, unlike his English great-great grandfather or American grandfather, and shows it off by taking on the staple of 80s manga destined never to be licensed here, the delinquent uniform, complete with peaked cap that is worn slightly off-kilter. Unlike his overearnest/cocky (delete where applicable) ancestors, Jotaro is mostly stoic and cool, which is nice but makes him a lot more of a flat character than his predecessors. Thankfully, Joseph is here, albeit mellowed, and we get a few of the classic JoJo’s types – the mentor and friend, the villain turned good guy, the smug asshole minor villains, and the piles of cannon fodder that lead to many sort-of deaths. (The deaths are not as numerous as you’d expect – the school nurse who is possessed by evil literally has her head ripped off, but should be fine if she’s treated soon. What the hell?)

Of course, the main driving force of this arc is that Dio is back, and clearly up to his old tricks, using Jonathan’s body with his head stapled into it to possess people with parasitic brain worms and casually rape and murder random women in his castle of doom. What’s more, people are now exhibiting new Superpowers, called “Stands” for a reason so stupid I’d rather forget about it. Sometimes these can be cool, like JoJo’s, but they can also be deadly, like his mothers, which is causing her to slowly die by mutating into a plant, as far as I can tell. Thus our heroes must fly to Cairo to take on Dio, provided of course their plane is not hijacked, which it is. This arc is apparently a road movie, so expect lots of foreign settings in amongst the cool poses and piles of gore.

If you read JoJo’s for such things, you should enjoy this volume. There’s cool fights, there’s grotesque violence (the insect pulling the tongues out of an entire aisle of innocents on the plane wins), and there’s occasional stabs at humor, including a bad pun as the cliffhanger. But unfortunately, this was the first JoJo’s that I came away from thinking it was rather dull compared to its predecessors. Given it’s longer than both its predecessors combined, I’m hoping it fixes that soon.

By Naoe. Released in Japan by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the magazine GFantasy. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by Leighann Harvey.

I have to admit, I wasn’t looking forward to this one. It’s clearly popular, given it’s a Yen Press digital-only title that escaped into print (6 volumes are currently out digitally). But I saw the words ‘survival game’ and groaned, having grown incredibly weary of Battle Royale wannabes, ever decreasing casts, and heartwarming character development followed by murder. Fortunately, Aoharu x Machinegun isn’t any of these things, instead being about a survival game we have here in reality – paintball wars. Only no paint here, instead we have bb pellets, and the party that is shot has to announce it. You can imagine how often that works out. Luckily, the two guys who make up our viewpoint team have found a new, good and earnest young man to be their third. Except what they don’t know is… she’s a woman!

This title runs in GFantasy, so probably deserves to be called shoujo, as that’s as close as Square Enix really gets to the genre. Our heroine, who sadly isn’t badass enough to get the cover art, is Hotaru, who goes to school dressed in a male uniform, is fairly flat-chested, and has a strong sense of justice that leads her to be hot-blooded and violent. Ergo, no one really assumes she’s a girl at all – only her best friend seems to know. The sense of justice is what leads to our plot, as in order to get revenge for said friend, she ends up invading a host club to take on the guy who was responsible. Naturally, he challenges her to a gun duel, and naturally, she loses. But she does have mad skills, so (not knowing she’s female – he literally tells the others he refuses to have girls on his team) he gets her to join him in outdoor survival gun battles.

So yeah, less Battle Royale and more Ouran High School Host Club. Unlike Ouran, though, the artist seems content to have Hotaru’s secret be a secret for now, which is fine, as neither Masamune (the aforementioned guy) or Tooru (the somewhat creepy next door neighbor who has an unhealthy obsession with Masamune) seem to be falling for her despite themselves. I was actually rather surprised that this trope didn’t pop up immediately, given its appearance in almost all shoujo featuring cross-dressing female leads. But romance is not the point of this first volume. This first volume is driven by Hotaru stressing out, bonding with her new friends, and being so overearnest that it drives everyone to distraction. It’s a good contrast for the guys, who are far more devious, though that sometimes doesn’t work out for them, particularly Tooru.

Nothing in this volume blew me away, but it’s quietly competent, with good action scenes and a likeable hero. And of course it hits on a current trend, while also managing to keep itself light and fluffy. And Hotaru’s very likeable. “Decent” is not really much of a recommendation, but that’s how I come away from Aoharu x Machinegun. Tell you what, I’ll add to it. “Mostly decent.”

Readers of this blog may know that I am not wild about the new Monster Girl genre, with one or two exceptions, such as My Monster Secret. That said, I do try to read Vol. 1 of most everything these days, and then try to have something to say about it. But sometimes it’s not a lot. So here we have four books mostly involving monsters, which are mostly monster girls. None of them are horrible, so I wanted to talk about them, but none of them are great either.

Interviews with Monster Girls. By Petos. Released in Japan as “Demi-chan wa Kataritai” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Young Magazine the 3rd. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Kevin Steinbach.

At its heart, this is essentially a less ecchi version of Nurse Hitomi’s Monster Informary. The difference is that the teacher and counselor here is a normal human, and he’s in a school that is also normal, but with a few “demihumans”, which is the term preferred here for Monster Girls. There’s a vampire, a snow woman, a dullahan who carries her head around, etc. Oh, and one of the teachers is a succubus. While this may sound like the start of a harem, it doesn’t read that way, really. The girls deal with the difficulties of who they are, and the teacher supports and helps them. Its main issue is that originality is really off the table – the dullahan in particular has a lot of Durarara!! in her. As long as it avoids everyone falling for the teacher, it should be OK for monster girl fans.

Miss Kobayashi’s Dragon Maid. By Coolkyousinnjya. Released in Japan as “Kobayashi-san Chi no Maid Dragon” by Futabasha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Monthly Action. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Jenny McKeon. Adapted by Shanti Whitesides.

Here we have a yuri take on the genre, though how yuri it actually is depends on your rose-colored glasses. Miss Kobayashi is a introverted young office worker who has, through various circumstances, a dragon living in her apartment. Luckily, said dragon can also turn into a cute girl. Things proceed from there, as we see coworkers, and of course other supernatural girls showing up. It’s played very much for comedy – I was amused at Kobayashi’s behavior when drunk, as she releases her inner otaku – though there are moments of sweetness when you realize that things might progress if the author was interested in any romantic progression. I doubt they are, though, so it’s mostly just OK. the author has also done I Can’t Understand What My Husband Is Saying and Miss Komori Can’t Decline!, whose anime has come out here but whose manga are unlicensed.

My Girlfriend Is a T-Rex. By Sanzo. Released in Japan as “T-REX na Kanojo” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Gene Pixiv. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Wesley Bridges. Adapted by David Lumsdon.

The title is basically the plot – dinosaurs evolved rather than dying off, and now we have a girl who’s top half is human, whose bottom half is a dinosaur, but whose personality is basically ‘well-meaning clumsy strong girl’. She’s probably the least interesting part of this title, which gets far more mileage out of its hero and side characters. Despite the title, however, Churio (the dino girl) and Yuuma aren’t officially dating. Yuuma is the reason I enjoyed this – he starts off looking like a bland romance manga hero, and then we discover that’s by design – he’s an ex-gang leader and troublemaker who’s trying to straighten up after graduation. This turns out to be more difficult than you’d think. We also get Churio’s best friend, Torika, also a dinosaur girl, but also a vamp who loves using men to get presents. She’s hilarious. I enjoyed this probably more than it deserved.

Re:Monster. By Kogitsune Kanekiru and Haruyoshi Kobayakawa. Released in Japan by Alpha Polis, serialization ongoing in the magazine Alpha Polis. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Lu Huan. Adapted by Rebecca Schneidereit.

I’m cheating a bit here – this is not a Monster Girl manga, but another in a long line of “I was transported to a fantasy world” titles. That said, all the main characters, including the girls, are goblins of some sort or other, so let’s let it slide. This has the most intriguing premise of the four – the surprise being that the guy who’s now a goblin had superpowers in his previous world, which was filled with espers who could do cool things. After getting killed by a jealous childhood friend, he’s now a lowly goblin, in a world where stats, levels and powerups are real. Sadly, the premise is the best thing about this manga, which means well but is incredibly tedious. There’s not much dialogue – it’s almost all narrative voice, which makes sense given this was adapted from a novel, but the narrator is so dry and boring that everything drags. The other issue is that we have a standard male power fantasy here. Gob-Rou never loses a fight, wins the respect of the goblins, becomes their leader, and by the end of the first book has started to amass a harem. Some self-doubt or failure would help.