Reviews

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

The Dressrosa arc drags to a conclusion here, featuring many of what we’ve come to accept as typical One Piece cliches. Townspeople pretend to start an angry riot in order to help Luffy and company get away. A noble Marine takes them on only to change his mind and let them go at the last minute because he knows they aren’t really evil. Luffy once again rejects the basic ideas that make up what most of the world thinks of piracy, preferring to create his own definition. And before starting a new arc, we once again get a roundup from around the world of how various people are doing, seeing Rob Lucci of CP9, Buggy and company, Dragon and his revolutionaries, and the marines and Blackbeard pirates. All are there to make us recall that the world is complex and not easy to fit into a bio, and Luffy’s job is to fit it into that box anyway.

Given this is the final time I’ll be talking about Dressrosa, let me once again take the opportunity to talk about what a wasted character Rebecca was. It was always going to be difficult to see her arc because, well, we already had her arc with Vivi, and we love Vivi. So many of the same beats of this arc had also been hit in Alabasta. But Vivi, while she was a stated pacifist, and occasionally would cry, was not set up to be the ‘pretty princess’ quite like Rebecca was. I think the arc may have been helped by showing us Rebecca as a shy, sheltered girl before we saw her as a gladiator, which would at least show us that she was meant to be painfully out of place. The trouble is that Oda can’t help but make her fights look really cool, and thus we react viscerally when the narrative keeps hammering us with “you don’t have to fight anymore, step back and be pretty”. In any case, Rebecca can now be reunited with her father, and I can move on.

The other thing to talk about here is the Straw Hat Pirate Alliance, suggested by many of the pirates who have helped Luffy in Dressrosa, among them Bartolomeo and Cavendish. It’s the next logical step on Luffy’s quest to be the Pirate King, the most important pirate in the world – a fleet of allies. But Luffy is not interested in the logical way to anything, and doesn’t want the responsibility of commanding a fleet of pirates. Honestly, he’s barely interested in commanding his own nakama. It is somewhat awkwardly spelled out in the narration – to Luffy, this is about freedom, not power. That said, he gains his alliance anyway, and they swear to come to his aid if he ever needs it, which will no doubt crop up in the future. Again, we hit a core truth of One Piece – Luffy’s piracy is not everyone else’s, and that’s why his crew love him so much.

And now we prepare to start a new arc, which begins in a truly weird way as only Oda can do, with a floating island that’s actually an elephant, anthropomorphic minks who no doubt will bond quickly with our heroes (heck, Nami is already loaning out her clothes to them), and a cliffhanger as Nami has something horrible to tell us about Sanji. If this leads to a Sanji arc, I’ll be quite happy – I’ve disliked comedy Sanji at times, but serious Sanji can be excellent. One Piece’s flaws are now openly visible every book, but it’s still well worth reading.

By Mengo Yokoyari. Released in Japan as “Kuzu no Honkai” by Square Enix, serialization ongoing in the magazine Big Gangan. Released in North America by Yen Press. Translated by David Rowe-Caplan and Megan Denton.

This story begins in a very cute, heartwarming way, but I suspect the reader is not going to fall for it. The ‘scum’ in the title is the clue, and there’s also the cover art, showing our heroine, Hanabi, with her shirt mostly off, winking and sticking her tongue out at the reader. So when you discover almost right away that they’re actually both in love with their teachers (hers at least is her childhood “big brother” figure that she grew up with, but as always teacher/student romance is accepted far more by Japanese readers than Western ones), you aren’t particularly surprised. Mugi, the guy, and Hanabi are pretending to date while they pine away from someone else. And, because they’re both giant pots full of teenage hormones, they also take care of each other’s physical needs – there’s explicitly no going all the way, but there’s lots of making out and physical contact to a disturbing degree. It’s fascinating yet sordid.

I mentioned on Twitter while reading this volume that it’s like an evil mirror image of another Yen Press title, Love at Fourteen. That one also deals with a first time student romance, and also features an awkward teacher student relationship. But while equally realistic, and occasionally has the odd crisis, it is for the most part cute and heartwarming. You like these kids and want them to be together. Scum’s Wish shows us a relationship of convenience that isn’t good for either one of the couple, but you still end up rooting for them, as while they’re not all that sympathetic, they’re both very likeable. Hanabi especially grew on me, especially when it became clear that she was not going to be a meek and passive victim here. She’s actually somewhat cynical and snarky, something she tries to hide from her teacher whenever possible, and can be quite possessive, not just of her real love, but even of her fake one.

Towards the end we also meet a new girl who seems completely out of place to the somber, bittersweet anti-love story going on here. I loved her to bits. Moka first appears in a flashback where we’re getting an otherwise depressing but well told backstory for Hanabi, and we see her as a spoiled brat princess sort. Come high school, that hasn’t changed. If anything, she’s got a bad case of Eighth Grader Syndrome, demanding to be called Moka instead of Noriko and describing Mugi as her Prince Charming come to take her away from all this. You’d think she would be horribly wrong for a series like this one, but she actually releases the tension that’s built up from the start, and I find her nuttiness soothing. I also loved Hanabi’s casual threat to her, not letting her even get a toehold in between the fake relationship he’s built up.

I’m not sure that I’m going to love where this goes, and I fear it will be one of those sorts of series I call ‘potboiler’. But some potboilers are fascinating for all the right reasons, and Scum’s Wish caught my eye from the start and didn’t let it go. Good art, too, capturing the sensuality and furtiveness that most teen romance writers tend to forget is the majority of what’s going on there. Definitely recommended, provided you don’t mind feeling you need to wash up afterwards.

By Tomo Takeuchi | Published by Kodansha Comics

In the immortal words of Sir Paul McCartney:

Ballroom dancing made a man of me
One, two, three, four
I just plain adore your
Ballroom dancing, seen it on TV
I got what I got from ballroom dancing
Big B.D.

Feckless Tatara Fujita isn’t especially good at anything, and doesn’t know what he wants to do after middle school. One day, as bullies are hitting him up for cash, he is saved by Kaname Sengoku, who mistakes Fujita’s perusal of a poster advertising a part-time job for interest in an adjacent dance studio ad. Fujita is summarily whisked away to the studio, where he learns that one of his classmates, seemingly studious Shizuku Hanaoka, is not only a student there but one of the top amateurs in the sport.

For, indeed, this is a sports manga. Once Fujita sees a recording of Sengoku in action, he vows to change. To him, dancing is (not yet anyway) about personal expression but about self-improvement. He wants to gain poise and self-confidence, and once he decides that’s what he’s going to do, he works very hard. This isn’t one of those manga where the protagonist has some great talent, for even after weeks of lessons, he’s still not great, but there’s a glimmer of something about him that intrigues Sengoku. When he and Fujita later attent a tournament that Hanaoka is competing in, Sengoku taps Fujita to fill in when her long-time partner mysteriously disappears.

Although I don’t often comment on the art in manga, I found Welcome to the Ballroom to be quite interesting in that department. It almost seems a bit shoujo at times, with the lovely way the dancing is depicted, but then it must remind you that it’s shounen by throwing in a panty shot. I also found it refreshing that the cute love interest doesn’t stay on the sidelines or manage the team—she’s very talented and focused, with dreams of her own. (Lamentably, her ambitious plans to study abroad are later revealed to be for the benefit of her partner.)

I’m excited by the prospect of the world championship qualifying tournament that’s coming soon, though I hope we see it in more detail than the introductory glimpses we’ve had thus far. Alas, there are not thirty-plus volumes of this to look forward to either, since the series is on hiatus after eight volumes in Japan. Nevertheless, I do recommend it and look forward to more!

Welcome to the Ballroom is up to eight volumes in Japan, where it is presently on hiatus. Kodansha will release the second volume later this month.

By Fujino Omori and Suzuhito Yasuda. Released in Japan as “Dungeon ni Deai o Motomeru no wa Machigatte Iru Darou ka? Gaiden – Sword Oratoria” by Softbank Creative. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Andrew Gaippe.

First of all, boy is that title unwieldy. It’s certainly an accurate translation of the Japanese, though ‘Side Story’ might be more accurate. It’s a way to let the reader know this is not part of the main series dealing with adventurer Bell Cranel and his goddess Hestia. Instead, this series will focus on Bell’s idol and inspiration, Aiz Wallenstein, and the adventures of her Familia under Loki. Aiz has been something of a cipher throughout the series, so it’s great to see her get more focus, even if she gets a bit less development than I expected.

Most of that is simply due to the function of her personality – Aiz is not stoic, as she’s seemed in some of the main series novels, but she is very emotionally repressed. We get a bit of her backstory here, though it’s seen in a dream, so is very vague, and she admits to herself that one reason she takes such an interest in Bell (this novel takes place at the same time as the events in Book 1 of the main series) is that he reminds her of the way she was as a little girl. We also get some good examples of how she fights alongside her team in a much lower level than Bell has ever been to, and to no one’s surprise, she is miles above everyone else – even her own badass partners.

The other girl on the cover is Lefiya, a Level 3 elf who fills the role of the newbie in this book. Admittedly, being Level 3, she’s miles above where Bell and his companions are in the main series. However, when you’re a Level 3 surrounded by Level 5s, you tend to feel useless, especially when you only do magic and are easily distracted. As you’d expect, she gets a few failures at the start of the book, and a big success right at the end – she has a bit of a rulebreaking power, and isn’t afraid to use it to save her friends. She’s also possibly gay, though as ever in Japanese media, the line between lesbian and just akogare is deliberately obfuscated – honestly, I suspect it’s the latter.

As I noted earlier, the book takes place at the same time as the first in the main series, and gives us some extra insights – Bete, the drunken lout who insulted Bell in the first volume, showed that he was VERY drunk when he did this, and feels horrible about it. He is a jerk, but not THAT much of a jerk. And Loki and Freya have some very interesting conversations which read better now that we’ve seen future volumes, and show off just how capricious these gods are. And just as Freya is sort of kind of the main antagonist in the series to date, the side story gets Dionysus, who I’m pretty sure we’ll be seeing more machinations from in the future, as he sets a dangerous monster on the Loki team and almost kills everyone there.

This is not quite as good as the main series, as you can sort of hear the author working a bit too hard to connect the dots to fit this book in seamlessly with the main series. But it’s still a lot of fun, and Danmachi fans will absolutely enjoy it. I’m hoping we continue to learn more about Aiz and Loki Familia as we go along.

By Kazuhiro Fujita. Released in Japan as “Kuro Hakubutsukan” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Weekly Morning. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Zack Davisson.

Kazuhiro Fujita is one of the more famous Japanese manga artists that have never been published in North America till now. Part of the reason is that his two main series, Ushio and Tora and Karukiri Circus, both suffer from being over 30 volumes long and, even worse, being a Shonen Sunday series, a notoriously difficult sell over here for anyone not named Rumiko Takahashi. Fujita’s titles tend to have a supernatural bent, and this one is no different, an anthology series he wrote for the seinen magazine Morning about a museum of oddities and its beautiful but very eccentric curator. One night a ghost arrives to tell his story, which involves a young woman named Florence Nightingale who can see spirits, and is begging for death…

While there are a few creepy moments, at heart this is not really a horror series. This is about a young woman who is tormented by the strictures of society who is able to move past it and find new determination with the help of her new bodyguard, who just happens to be a ghost. the ghost, The Man in Grey (referred to as ‘Grey” by Florence), is a former duellist with a love of the theatre. Florence comes to him because she can see Eilodons, invisible creatures that lurk over everyone and seem to take in all their anger, hatred, fear, etc. Florence not only sees them but knows she has one of her own, which is tormenting her. She makes a deal with Grey to kill her – but he doesn’t want to do it yet, preferring to wait till she’s at her deepest moment of despair. Which will surely come along. Really soon. Any day now.

Those familiar with the story of Florence Nightingale may be laughing up their sleeve a bit by now, and indeed most of the humor in this series involves the ghost getting increasingly frustrated at Florence’s sheer spunk and determination – there are several moments when he could easily kill her, but she’d just die happily and at peace, and what’s the point of that? So instead he assists her to occasionally attack other eilodons that are in opposition to her (her parents, etc.), but mostly to act as a sounding board and snarky narrator of asides. Meanwhile, Florence manages to succeed at her true calling, nursing, and ends up in the middle of the Crimean War… where she runs into Le Chevalier D’Eon, who is not only also a ghost, but is surely delighted to be featuring in yet another Kodansha series released in North America. (No, it’s not a crossover, D’Eon is a real historical figure.)

I don’t have much to analyze here except that this is a solid, well-written book that had me turning the pages rapidly. The art is at its best with the expressions, be they Grey’s increasing frustration, Florence’s shift from hollow-eyed and suicidal to determined and powerful, or even the increasingly loopy and amusing reactions of the curator of the Black Museum, who I hope we see more of. (There is also a fair bit of nudity, be warned – it is a seinen series.) It’s also a handsome hardcover of about 300 pages long, and the translation is of course excellent. It’s just a great example of why this artist is so popular in Japan, and I am greatly looking forward to the second (and final?) volume.

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.

The end of this omnibus is the halfway point in the Fruits Basket re-release, and you definitely get the sense that we have turned a corner. While I’m not sure that Takaya-san had worked out exactly how long she was going to make the series, I think here is where the ending she wanted firmed up in her mind and she began to take steps towards achieving it. And that means that Tohru, who had been suffering a bit from drifting through life after the death of her mother, acquires a new purpose, and becomes surprisingly driven to achieve it. Or perhaps it’s not so surprising, given that Akito is the one who sets her in motion with a violent rejection of her very self.

The first half of the book is still set in the summer vacation beachhouse, as Akito works hard to ruin everyone’s vacation. But we find that success is not as easy as it once was. Kazuma explains to Tohru later on that Akito has an effect on the other zodiac, that words that could be brushed off if someone else said them affect them to their very core. But we actually begin to see a bit of that unraveling here. Haru seems to be so worried about Rin that he doesn’t react as much to Akito’s jibes about being stupid. Momiji is willing to defy Akito to avoid getting Tohru hurt. Even Kyo, whose self-loathing reaches another peak here, finds that a rare meeting with Akito doesn’t have the pull that it once did. The curse is explained in mroe detail than it’s ever been here, but we’re starting to see the start of it breaking.

And Tohru wants to be the one to do it. Akito’s little speech, which is long and violent (her cheek is scratched hard enough to draw blood) basically amounts to “Fuck off”, actually does the opposite of what it intends – mostly because it reveals what Kyo’s eventual fate will be. The Furuba fandom had been somewhat equally divided between Tohru/Yuki and Tohru/Kyo, but I think this book is where people began to realize that the triangle was already being broken up. Partly due to Yuki continuing his own separate, non-Sohma subplot (which still hasn’t quite gotten off the ground, though we did meet the always wonderful Kimi, who I will be praising more as the serious goes on, because she’s hilarious), but also due to the fact that it’s clearly Kyo’s fate that makes Tohru want to push to find out about how to break the curse more than anything. Seeds are being sown.

Speaking of seeds, we also meet Rin here for the first time properly, though she’s still something of an enigma, and notably does not receive the same treatment as the other Sohmas to date – meet, reveal their emotional trauma, get bathed in Tohru’s healing waves. Rin is a massive ball of rage, and will not be the sort to simply wilt under Tohru’s good cheer. I suspect a collision in the next book, particularly as Rin has discovered what Tohru is looking for. And some seeds have ended up not flowering after all, as Kagura discovers when she admits to herself that Kyo is never going to accept her affection, and manages to pour her heart out to him in an actual, real date free from her usual over the top violence. Her broken confession that she felt better being around Kyo because of the cat’s scapegoat nature is heartwrenching, but Kyo’s sympathetic, lukewarm response may be even more so.

As always with an omnibus, I feel I’m leaving more out. I never did talk about the mysterious Ren, who is mentioned here and seems to be the one that finally sets Akito off to go attack Tohru. And then there’s the school counseling sessions, when the parents arrive to discuss their children’s futures. Tohru’s grandfather is laid up with a bad back, so Shigure goes in his place, which leads to as much hilarity as you’d expect when he clashes with Mayu. (Also note his fantastic expression when she tells him he’s not even nice to the people he loves.) But overall, an excellent omnibus, possibly the high point of the entire series, and certainly a sign that we are going to start tying up our loose ends soon, even if some of them are going to resist that for a long time to come.

Oh yes, Tohru and Uo’s faces when Hanajima mentions that Kazuma is hot. Those are also a big highlight. See? I can go on and on.

By Reki Kawahara and abec. Released in Japan by ASCII Mediaworks. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Stephen Paul.

After a third volume that was good but somewhat insubstantial, the fourth volume of Progressive knocks it out of the park. One big reason why is the viewpoint: we get Asuna’s POV again (3rd person) for the first half of the book, with the 2nd half back to 1st person Kirito. This not only allows us much greater insight into how Asuna thinks, but also helps to show off how the two of them view each other – Asuna in the first half is running scared a lot, partly due to this particular level featuring ghosts, a pet fear of hers, but also in general, as she feels inadequate to the floor, and Kirito is constantly two steps ahead of her. She can’t even bring herself to duel him so she can have practice at it – in a game where something going wrong means death, it weighs too much on her.

Then we see Kirito, and once again Asuna becomes the somewhat cool, noble tsundere he always puts on a pedestal. He also shows us that some of her assumptions about him are wrong – she admired his cool bluff against two enemy players, but he was actually on the verge of snapping, as seeing a status saying someone isn’t dead and actually not seeing them dead are two very different things. We also see that both he and Asuna are slowly becoming aware of their growing feelings towards each other, but are not really going to do anything about it – in fact, we even see Kirito abuse this fact, as in order to cover up his real intentions he pretends that he hasn’t joined one of the two big guilds as they’d force him to part with her. Of course, what it really is is that he feels she’s a better “leader” than he is, and he doesn’t want to get too close as he regards his role as making her “fly” so she doesn’t need him anymore. Which, of course, Asuna is somewhat aware of, and is the source of much of her own angst.

Argo is here, as you might have guessed from the cover, and she gets quite a lot more to do than usual, from dueling with Asuna to show off that she actually *can* take care of herself thank you very much, to hen showing us that she too can be vulnerable, as the new changes to the 5th floor boss almost end up taking her out. She’s a great character, and I am quite pleased that Kawahara continues to use her even though she doesn’t show up in the original series. Fans continue to debate whether this reboot will eventually reach the same points as canon – i.e., Kirito and Asuna will separate for a long period, and things will proceed as from the original. I think Kawahara realizes he doesn’t have to care about that for the next several books, and that he’s happy to simply rewrite Aincrad with new experience and better characterization than he had years ago. (He’s also written Progressive plot and characters into some of his unofficial doujinshi work – Argo shows up in one story during Kirito and Asuna’s honeymoon, and another story tells of the fate of the Dark Elves (who aren’t in this book, by the way, though I suspect they may be in the next one).)

And then there’s the other big reason this is the best of the Progressive books – a genuine threat from something outside the game itself. The second book showed us Morte, a player who seemed to want to cause chaos. We see him again here, working on more of the same, and also meet his boss. The discussion of why players would want to kill other players is brought up by both Kirito and Asuna, but both of them shy away from the actual reason – it’s a thrill and they can get away with it. The boss’ name isn’t mentioned, but signs are good that it’s PoH, who later heads up the guild Laughing Coffin, which we’ve discussed before. Again, part of the fun of reading Progressive is seeing he seeds being set for later events, and PoH is a creepy psycho. He’s clearly one of the major antagonists of the series. Even now that we’re a few years out of Aincrad, I wonder if he’ll pop up again.

So all this, plus the usual excellent battle scenes, and slightly less fanservice than usual (courtesy Asuna, who demands she and Argo be clothed during their bathtime duel). If you enjoy Sword Art Online even a little bit, you should love this one. Get ready to wait for the 5th volume, though – it’s not even scheduled in Japan yet.

By Mizuki Mizushiro and Namanie. Released in Japan by Enterbrain. Released in North America by Yen On. Translated by Nicole Wilder.

The second volume of Psycome takes its premise and runs with it, as we see our class of murderers sent on a field trip/survival camp, a trope that I thought was actually more Western than anything else but apparently must pop up in Japan as well. Once at camp, we get the usual combination of cliched romantic comedy antics and attempted killings, even though, of course, murder is absolutely prohibited by the staff. We see such cliches as walking across a rickety rope bridge, class skits around the campfire, late-night ero comedy at the hot springs, and a nature walk to boot. And all this is supervised by a new girl, Shamaya, the Murder Princess of the title. And unlike Kyousuke or Eiri, she is definitely here for genuine murder, as she sees fit to gleefully tell us.

Just as all the main cast are painful cliches, so is Shamaya – as you can tell from the cover art, she’s the pampered ojou-sama type, and also fills in as head of the Public Morals Committee, dedicated to making sure all the new freshman are following the straight and true path. Of course, after Book One we know that said path is turning teenage killers into professional assassins, so we’re not too impressed. And indeed Shamaya is fairly easily thrown off her game – at first by people merely breaking the rules (such as the three goons whose names I can’t even remember trying to strangle Kyousuke), but later on she meets her match in Maina, the baby-talking clumsy girl who’s in this school for accidental deaths so ludicrous that no one believes they’re accidental. Maina brings out Shamaya’s true psychotic nature, but unfortunately for her there’s already a better psycho in town, Renko.

The book continues to walk a fine line, and doesn’t always succeed – sometimes when it tries too hard to be earnest or serious, I don’t feel as if it’s earned it. Hence I was skeptical of Shamaya’s heel-face turn after Maina’s big speech, and kept waiting for it to be another trick. Some of the comedy also falls flat, such as the epilogue where Shamaya seems to have traded in her murderous impulses for yuri impulses. But this is offset by some genuinely good set pieces, such as Eiri’s apology to Kyousuke for being such a tsundere to him, which *does* seem genuine and earned, or Maina’s aforementioned speech, which is depressing but also uplifting. And some of the comedy managed to surprise me and make me laugh, particularly Renko’s beatboxing rap group, which has to be read to be believed.

So, as with the first volume, we’re left with a promising yet deeply inconsistent book with an intriguing premise. The epilogue promises us a new character in the third volume, which I suspect will ramp up another cliched harem comedy trope accordingly, much as I’d wish it wouldn’t. But that’s what you get when you read a series like this. If they’re going to set a series in a wacky prison school and then throw in every cliche in the book, it would feel wrong not to hit every cliche. I’m not sure I could tolerate a manga or anime of this, but as prose, Psycome is amusing, goofy fun.

By Akane Shimizu. Released in Japan as “Hataraku Saibou” by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Shonen Sirius. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics. Translated by Yamato Tanaka.

We have seen a lot of anthropomorphism in manga and anime recently, with Hetalia probably being the most famous example of it. It can be fun to imagine countries, or subway lines, or beers reimagined with human shapes and personalities. It’s been around a long time, and is usually in a humorous vein. But that doesn’t mean that it can’t also be used to teach you things. In Cells at Work!, the things we’re learning about are – no surprise – cells, as the human body is shown as sort of a messy organic factory, where various types of cells try to do their job as quickly as possible while avoiding the seemingly constant threat of invasion. Thankfully, this is not an ‘educational’ manga per se, as the main thrust is human and action, both of which we get in great amounts.

Our Heroine is Red Blood Cell – yeah, don’t expect easy to remember Japanese names here – a cute, spunky, but somewhat dim girl whose job it is delivering oxygen to various parts of the body and then CO2 back to the lungs. Assuming she can ever find the lungs. And assuming she is not utterly destroyed by the various things that go wrong while she’s on duty, ranging from Pneumococcus and Influenza to allergies and scrape wounds, all of which could be complete disasters if not taken care of fast. Luckily, we have our hero, White Blood Cell, who is stoic and deadpan and more than a little insanely violent. He’s there to take out these monsters (some of whom resemble typical magical girl show villains, which is what makes it so amusing) and help explain things to Red Blood Cell, who seems to need a lot of things explained.

Much of this manga gets by on the sheer ridiculousness of what is going on, which helps make all the discussion of T-Cells and Memory Cells go down easier. We see overenthusiastic B-Cells, airheaded Mast Cells, yandere princess Macrophages (possibly my favorite), and trembling and scared Naive Cells. Each of the four chapters shows something going wrong, and what needs to be done to fight it. The fights involve a lot of things blowing up, crowds running and screaming, and lots of property damage, so in that way it’s a very fun shonen action manga. The humor is what I keep coming back to, though – especially a JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure cameo where I was not expecting one to be. And then there’s the Platelets, who are absolutely adorable little moppets who will make you go ‘aaaaaw’.

You really do learn a lot about cells here, and the color frontispiece seems to imply we’ve only just scratched the surface of the cells we can talk about. The main characters are definitely Red Blood Cell and White Blood Cell, though, and while there’s no romance (how on Earth could you pull that off?), their growing friendship is also a highlight. I had no idea what this manga was going to be like when I heard it was licensed, but now I’m totally sold. Give me more.

By Mizuho Kusanagi. Released in Japan as “Akatsuki no Yona” by Hakusensha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Hana to Yume. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by JN Productions, Adapted by Ysabet Reinhardt MacFarlane.

I said I had wanted more plot development, and I get a lot of it here, very well told. We do indeed see there is a Fire Tribe in addition to the Wind tribe, and their young prince is appropriately a hothead (and ex-suitor) of Yona who is appalled when his hotheaded plan ends up turning into disaster. We also do not lose sight of Su-won, who may have started off the series by murdering Yona’s father but is not going to be just another insane shoujo villain. The idea that Yona is dead fills him with grief, and also allows us to see more flashbacks. Intterestingly, we see that Hak has actually told Su-won he wants to see him married to Yona and ruling as King. There is a silent “but not like this” that is very palpable, however.

Of course, this series is not 2 volumes long, and Yona is not dead. But before that, we get a nice look at Hak in his natural habitat, as we see another cliche of romance manga used quite well, which is the sheltered rich girl arriving in the town of the peasant boy and seeing how his simple, non-affluent lifestyle is much happier than she could have imagined. Hak is a good general who cares about his tribe, but is also able to let those who are his contemporaries (in age, if nothing else) get away with mouthing off to him provided it’s not an emergency. We also get a Tiny Tim sort, Tae-Yeon, who is adorable and inspiring and also needs his medicine. The world may be filled with political machinations, but here there are just good people.

And them there’s Yona herself, who does get to wield a sword in this volume, though she’s still shaking off her princess roots. Forced to pretend to be a lady’s maid at first, that doesn’t last long, as there’s no way that she can accept “just live here in hiding for the rest of your life” while people are suffering. I was very pleased that, rather than demand to come with Hak, she announces that she’s leaving, and wants him to come with HER. He calls her quite selfish, but it’s not the bad kind of selfishness. And, as long as we’re counting tropes, I loved the scene where she cuts off her long hair with a sword in order to escape the Fire Tribe leader. Not only is that sort of scene always badass, it gives supposed evidence of her death to the King later on.

But she isn’t dead, and despite the ridiculousness of Yona and Hak surviving a fall from that height (which the author herself points out in a 4-koma at the end), they seem to have been taken in by some allies. I’m not sure what will happen next, but given the type of manga this is, no doubt it will involve destiny and power struggles and possibly cool horseback riding? And more swords! The sky’s the limit, really. Oh yes, and some cute romance would be nice, but not necessary.

By Shigeru Mizuki. Released in Japan as “Gegege no Kitaro” by (among others) Kodansha, serialized in various magazines. Released in North America by Drawn & Quarterly. Translated by Zack Davisson.

It is interesting reading these old late 1960s Kitaro manga, showing off the wonders and terrors of yokai to a Japanese audience, now that we are in something of a yokai glut here in North America. Oh, yokai are never going to pass vampires, or even monster girls. But you get things like Kamisama Kiss, which puts yokai in a supernatural shoujo romance. And Natsume’s Book of Friends, almost a spiritual successor to Kitaro, as he walks around solving problems and getting involved despite himself. And of course there’s the Shonen Jump series Nurarihyon no Mago, which wasn’t a huge hit, but got over 20 volumes, so could be said to be a mild hit in Japan. It did alright here as well.

The Nurarihyon seen here on the cover is of the same type as Nura from the Jump manga (or, to be more accurate, Nura’s grandfather, who fits the stereotype better), but of course this Nurarihyon is not remotely a hero. He’s closer to the actual legend, an old man who walks into your house, drinks your tea, acts as if he owns the place, and leaves. Compared to the other yokai we see in this volume, he doesn’t have that many superpowers, but that just makes it all the more chilling when he gets rid of Kitaro and Nezumi Otoko so easily. Of course, Kitaro *is* the hero, so he manages to escape and trap Nurarihyon in a place he’s not going to be coming back from anytime soon. In fact, I would argue Kitaro’s solution is equally chilling.

These stories sometimes do feel their age, and not just due to the technology of the times. Kitaro is very much a morally ambiguous hero, getting involved when it looks as if humans are directly threatened with yokai but otherwise mostly getting pulled into things by the morally corrupt Nezumi Otoko, who even this early in the series has made his transition from rapscallion to scallywag, so to speak. He’s such a lovable creature you want to forgive him for being a greedy gluttonous and occasionally murderous swine. Oh yes, and somewhat sexist as well – one story has an old yokai try to seduce Nezumi Otoko merely as she’s watched a TV show with a May-December romance and wanted more fun in her life. Kitaro’s response amounts to “you are an ugly old woman, back where you came from!”, which left a sour taste in my mouth. Kitaro, at this point in the series, does not really reach for sentiment.

It does have plenty of creepy scares, though. The Wanyudo has always freaked me out a bit, and so seeing it in a story involving supposed lost diamonds made me shiver. And did I mention vampires earlier? Well, there’s one here, who’s employing Nezumi Otoko to find him fresh victims, but he runs afoul of a hair-based yokai who’s actually succeeded in possessing Kitaro (is this going to happen once a volume?). In essence, though, what we have here is Kitaro as he was at the height of his powers – warts and all. If you appreciate manga history, or just want a good spooky book for your kids, this is a great title to pick up.

By Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Jump Aquare. Released in North America by Viz. Translated by Stephen Paul.

The creator team of Ohba and Obata has brought Japan and North America some of the most iconic manga out there in Death Note and Bakuman. In addition, Obata’s art has also been seen in Hikaru no Go, All You Need Is Kill, and, erm, School Judgment. OK, possibly not that last one, but otherwise, they’re all acknowledged hits and big influences. So I always feel guilty that I’ve never really warmed to any of them. I found Hikaru no Go pretty dull, Death Note’s nihilism wasn’t my bag, and Bakuman’s casual sexism rubbed me the wrong way. Yet hope springs eternal, and here they are with a new series. Can they build on the strengths of past works, or will I be grinding my teeth again?

A little of both, really. I’m not as familiar with Death Note as most other readers are, mostly as I didn’t warm to its premise so never really read it, but it strikes me that a lot of the same themes I hear that it had are cropping up here. Our hero, Mirai, begins the story as, sadly, many manga protagonists do, by resolving to kill himself. He ends up being saved by an angelic being, Nasse, who explains he’s been chosen to participate in a war of sorts to see who gets to become the next God. He also has powers to a) fly, and b) make someone fall madly in love with him… for 33 days. Naturally, there are other participants as well, from the sleazy (a guy who decides to use the love arrows for orgies) to the so-called moralistic (the guy who becomes a vigilante superhero), to the girl Mirai has a crush on (who is the cliffhanger ending).

Ohta and Obata love grey, morally ambiguous works, and this is no exception. The star of the volume is without a doubt Nasse, who would love it if Mirai simply used his newfound powers a lot more indiscriminately. She’s supposedly an angel, but is 100% fine with murder and other morally reprehensible acts. Luckily, Mirai isn’t, and after his first horrific but accidental use of his powers, tries to think seriously about what to do and how to use them carefully – especially as he realizes that the God War involves killing off every other candidate. Nasse, though, is fine with absolutely anything as long as it gives him “normal happiness”, whatever that is, because that’s what he wished for from the start. It’s really creepy, to be honest.

Where the manga succeeds is where all Obata manga succeed – the art is fantastic, with dynamic poses, violence and fanservice when it’s appropriate, and a nice ability to read the character’s emotions from their expressions rather than just the dialogue, something many other artists have issues with. And the premise looks like it could go to interesting places… or nasty ones. The odd morality of the angels, though, reminds me more of Franken Fran than anything else, and likely will determine if I continue this series or not.