Reviews

By Matsuri Hino. Released in Japan by Hakusensha, serialized in the magazine LaLa. Released in North America by Viz.

And so after 19 volumes, we come to the end of this particular journey. Yes, there’s a novel due out next month, but for the main manga, this is it. There’s even a limited edition, which has (in my opinion) a better cover art picture and a limited edition hardcover artbook, which features some lovely character pieces. Vampire Knight has always been a series that I’ve found to be of the moment. I may forget what’s actually going on the moment I put down the book, but while I’m reading the book, I’m swept along by the drama and emotions going on within. This last volume takes that and amps it up even further, as Yuki and Kaname compete to see who can out-self-sacrifice each other.

This is not to say there aren’t some issues. The incestuous subtext that’s been bubbling under the entire series becomes text early in this volume, and while it’s not dwelled on, I can’t say I was all that happy with it. Most of the supporting players who had large roles earlier in the series are reduced to little more than cameos here, though again it was excellent to see Yuki’s human best friend, Sayori, pop up to remind us that the world isn’t entirely vampires. (Nice flashforward as well.) And of course the entirely of this volume seems to feature both Kaname and Zero trying their best to protect Yuki by removing any agency she might have to strike off on her own, which usually makes me growl, but…

Yuki isn’t having any of it. The series has balanced a knife edge as to whether Yuki will finally slip and become a princess who needs to be protected and rescued or a knight who does the rescuing, and it’s to Hino’s credit that the final decision is Yuki’s, and it’s to live up to the title. Possibly the best panel in the entire volume shows Yuki, in her school uniform and sword in hand, dragging Aido (who is literally flapping in the wind” while shouting “We’ve got an academy to protect!” It does a heart good to see this.

As for Kaname’s master plan, well, in the end there’s not much they can do about it, but they do manage to find a sort of deus ex machina that can be fired off after a thousand years. The epilogue shows that all of the hatred and political intrigue that has dominated vampire life (and the series in general) seems to have dissipated. And Yuki and Zero are together, though this is given really short shrift – in the end, it’s not about whether Yuki ends up with her brother or her classmate, it’s about Yuki working with others to save both vampires and humans. Romance is an afterthought.

Vampire Knight’s pleasures may be fleeting, but that doesn’t make them any less enjoyable. A lot of Vampire Knight’s covers have featured the main characters looking out at the reader, and the limited edition one does the same, with Yuki, Zero and Kaname lying exhausted yet satisfied (yes, yes, OT3), and saying to the reader, “We’re done. Is this enough?” It’s a very good conclusion.

By Sana Shirakawa, Quin Rose, and Nana Fumitsuki, based on the game by Quin Rose. Released in Japan by Ichijinsha. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

The Alice spinoffs, which is to say everything but the 6 main books that Tokyopop/Yen Press put out, have always had an issue to deal with which is to say that they’re made for readers in Japan who have played the original games that the series is based on. North America hasn’t really had that luxury, even though we do now have a somewhat machine-translated tablet version of the Hearts game. So there’s always a risk that you read something that requires, if not prior knowledge, at least passing familiarity with the game world you’re in. Or, as in the case of this light novel, you have a product that lots of times seems to read like an advertisement for a game you can’t get over here.

That isn’t to say this isn’t a good novel, it’s quite well-written. The prose flows well (excellent translation by William Flanagan), and Alice and Blood, the main stars, sound like themselves. The premise, as you may have guessed, has Alice dropped in another world, a la Clover or Joker. But whereas Hearts had Alice looking for a passionate love, and Clover had Alice develop a relationship based on friendship turning to love, here she’s further in the past of Wonderland, no one knows who she is, and everyone starts out disliking her intensely. (Hence “Diamonds”.) Alice has her hands full trying to deal with this, and it’s not helped by ending up at Hatter Mansion with a Blood Dupre who’s far less adept at being aloof yet teasing than she remembers.

This book is drenched in the Blood/Alice ship, and fans of other ships won’t get much here. Eliot fans should particularly stay away, as he’s abused and beaten by Blood throughout, usually when he’s trying to shoot Alice. As for new characters, the White Queen and her Black Rabbit barely get a look, so most of what we get is Jericho Bermuda, the Gravekeeper, who seems to be based on Carroll’s dodo bird. He’s Alice’s oasis of calm in the excitement of dealing with Hatter mobster wars, and it’s frustrating that most of the hints we get about him being a “walking dead man” are not answered here.

There aren’t the sharp edges I like in some of the other Alice spinoffs – Alice doesn’t think of Lorina once, and most of her worries once she’s fallen in love come from a fear that she’ll switch countries again. The Hatter family are more battle ready and drenched in blood than the earlier games, as they’re still gaining power. But mostly I think this is a good book that makes a reader yearn to play the game. We want to see what’s up with the White Queen switching between child and adult form, like the Twins used to do. (They’re just adults here.) We’d like to see why the Black Rabbit seems to hate Alice (inverse of Peter, I expect.) Joker was mentioned to be here as well, but remains unseen. Jericho looks to be the author rewriting Mary Gowland to be less irritating, but who knows?

So this is a very good novel for Alice fans who want to dip into prose, or Alice/Blood shippers. But it also frustrated me, as it offers many questions without answers as well.

By Yuu Kamiya and Mashiro Hiiragi. Released in Japan by Media Factory, serialized in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

Ah, Comic Alive, my old nemesis. We meet again. I see this time you’ve brought a title that I would probably find quite interesting were it not for the grotesque fanservice that is sprinkled throughout and unavoidable. Again. In fact, that seems to be your only weapon, really, though I was pleased by your one victory in the ‘yuri’ genre. Can’t we have more like Whispered Words and less like this? And so as ever, I’m left to figure out if there’s enough remaining in the title to pull me in, or if I’m going to be driven off by an excess of panty flashing, underage nudity, and boob groping. All of which No Game No Life has plenty of.

This is another in the increasingly popular genre of ‘gamers suddenly find themselves in a game world’, but with a slight twist. Our brother/sister heroes don’t find themselves in the game they were playing (and crushing everyone – they’re master gamers), but in a fantasy world where war has been replaced by games – any games, and the stakes can be quite high. As they struggle to figure out the history and rules of this new world, they meet the story’s designated victim, Princess Stephanie, who has just lost her kingdom due to being too naive, honest, and tsundere. Luckily for her, they’re not only master gamers, but total savants – with a few minor quirks.

Let’s break down the quirks, which are really the best and worst reasons to pick up this title. Sora is another overly perverse virgin whose first thought on winning a ‘ask anything of the pretty girl’ game is to ask the girl to fall in love with him. Shiro, while occasionally playing the jealous sister card, seems OK with him groping and assaulting said girl as long as it goes through her first. They are supposedly siblings (I will be very unsurprised if this turns out not to be true later on) but Sora professes he has no sexual desire towards Shiro… but that doesn’t stop them being all over each other anyway, thus gaining the best of both worlds for those who like that fetish.

So where’s the good? For all their smug confidence, much of which is justified, Sora and Shiro are two very broken teens (Shiro is 11, but whatever). If they’re apart from each other at all, they both have crippling breakdowns – we saw at the start they were a NEET (him) and a truant (her). Indeed, Shiro may actually have some sort of disorder – I’m not sure if her broken speech is meant to be a cute affectation or something more basic. And Ias I said earlier, they really do seem to be as good as they say they are – Shiro memorized a book almost instantly, and Sora, while not as good as that, is still said to be able to pick it up in a few hours.

So the question remains, what will the story do with these two? If it develops as a tale of how they deal with this world and its inhabitants while working to get over their social phobias, that’s quite a good possibility. That said, I expect the service is not going away and may even get worse. There is a light novel coming this spring, too. In the end, I suppose if you read Comic Alive stuff, you’ll enjoy this. If not, it might be interesting for the siblings, but I’d wait a few volumes to see if that pans out.

By Ema Toyama. Released in Japan as “GDGD-DOGS” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Aria. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

Ema Toyama’s career over here in North America has been a bit slow to build. Pixie Pop came out back in the Tokyopop days, and if I recall had a heroine who was a bit flat. Del Rey then brought over I Am Here!, whose heroine, while slightly better, was still not quite there. Then came Missions of Love, which introduced us to the love quadrangle from hell. Yukina is on a whole other level from her other heroines, and even though some fans are grumping about her losing her ‘snow princess’ facade as she falls in love, there’s no doubt she’s fascinating. And now we have Kanna, the heroine of Manga Dogs, a high school girl who’s also an active manga artist with a story in the back end of a shoujo magazine. What will her character development be like?

As it turns out, any character developemnt is completely irrelevant! Because Manga Dogs is not another shoujo romantic comedy. Toyama has said in the past how Kumeta Koji is one of her favorite authors, particularly Sayonara, Zetsubou-sensei and Katteni Kaizo. It shows here. Manga Dogs is an episodic gag manga mocking the manga industry, with Kanna surrounded by three pretty but vapid young men who are determined to become rich and famous drawing manga. The goal here is not to see which young man in the reverse harem Kanna will end up with, but to see if she can keep her sanity and health (already somewhat iffy given her weekly deadlines).

I’d joked on Twitter that, like Missions of Love, Manga Dogs had a main cast who were basically horrible, but Kanna is the Tsukkomi here, which makes a difference. By now the Western audience should be used to this type of humor, but I will say that if you dislike jokes that are framed as “Character A says something stupid, character B shouts at them that the thing they said is stupid”, with optional table flip, this isn’t the title for you. Kanna is mostly the straight man, though even she backslides at times, such as when she’s gathering reference photographs, or forgets she’s not drawing a BL manga.

Toyama jokes in her endnotes about Bakuman, and there is the occasional nod at showing what the life of a manga author is like, but it always takes a backseat to the gags. There are also many little references that fans of manga will get interspersed throughout – my favorite was the gentle mocking of the magazine Manga Dogs runs in, Aria. Aria is a smallish, cult shoujo magazine (though the Levi manga may have changed that), and the boys comparing it to Shonen Jump and Shonen Sunday is ridiculous (we do, at last, get a new guy who mentions Magazine – but he turns out to be a villain).

There’s not much to this manga in the end – so far the emotional depth is zero – but no one’s going to read it for that anyway. They have Missions of Love for that. This is 100% stupid comedy, and it does it quite well. It’s also only 3 volumes long, so won’t risk going on long past what folks expected, like… well, also like Missions of Love.

By Kentaro Sato. Released in Japan as “Mahou Shoujo Of The End” by Akita Shoten, serialized in the magazine Bessatsu Shonen Champion. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

Those who know my usual reviewing patterns and preferences may be surprised to see that I’m reviewing this title at all, and you’re mostly right. I picked this one up expecting that it wasn’t going to be my cup of tea, but wondering if it was some sort of magical girl deconstruction along the lines of Madoka Magica (which, ironically, I also don’t like). Unfortunately, at least in this volume, the ‘magical girl’ part is mostly irrelevant. The monsters here could be demons, angels, or clowns for all that it matters. They are a massive force of death and gore, who just happen to be magical girls. They certainly do bring the apocalypse, though. That said, I did want to review this title, as it’s a classic example of a title that I personally dislike but where I recognize its good qualities that other readers will greatly appreciate.

The buildup to said apocalypse is short, only taking up the first few pages. Our hero, Kii, is (sigh) an average everyday high school student, who wants to get through his school days peacefully. Sometimes this means ogling the class beauty from afar, sometimes it means turning away when his childhood friend is getting viciously bullied in a nearby bathroom. As he takes a test, he looks outside and notices his teacher stopping a young girl who is dressed quite oddly. That’s her on the cover. The girl then proceeds to blow his head off with her ‘wand’, then goes after the rest of the school. As the slaughter commences, it turns out that the entire world is being invaded by so-called magical girls, who are also able to reanimate the dead to do their bidding.

That last sentence is the most telling. This is, at heart, a zombie manga. There’s a lot of lovingly detailed horror and gore, and much of the second half involves escaping the school and winnowing down our already small cast. Our hero survives, of course, along with his bullied childhood friend (they would appear to have the closest thing this title has to a possible romance) and a busty upperclassman. They make it out into the city, and find that it’s no better out there. Is there anything to do besides wait for everyone to die?

The author certainly has a sense of style in the way he depicts the mass slaughter. The gore is almost artistic in places, as well as finding new levels of sadism, especially in the scene where a magical girl crumples up about 200 people into a living ball, hefts them high into the air, then lets them drop to their death. The combination of gore and fanservice (busty upperclassman is VERY busty, and we’re not allowed to forget it) makes this a fantastic series for young men who would be reading anything in Shonen Champion, the magazine where this runs. Indeed, in some ways it reminds me of a less silly version of Franken Fran, the cult horror manga from the same publisher.

It’s totally not a series I’ll be continuing, but don’t let that stop you. If you like survival manga, zombie manga, horror manga, or just lovingly detailed depictions of cute high school kids getting their heads blown off, this title will not disappoint you, as it does all those things very well.

By Takashi Ikeda. Released in Japan in three separate volumes as “Sasameki Koto” by Media Factory, serialized in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by One Peace Books.

Emotional turmoil is the order of the day with this second omnibus, as our two heroines go through an amazing amount of distress as they try to save their friendship while also dealing with their burgeoning love. Indeed, for Ushio the stress gets so great she has a temper tantrum that ends with her literally breaking her hand. Again, this is unsurprising given the age of the characters, but it can be a bit exhausting to read about, especially given that it’s only at the very end of this book that we see any forward development towards resolution. For the most part, the reader is meant to sympathize with Tomoe, who wishes they’d get it together but wants it to happen on its own.

Since so much of the first omnibus was either from Sumika’s point of view or focused on her, it’s a relief that this second volume gets to give us Ushio’s side more often. Ushio’s immaturity is aggravating, but at the same time we’re shown the background which has led to it. This is not a book that wants to cover itself by saying that it’s just akogare, the Japanese term for a strong emotional bond between young girls (with the subtext that it’s abandoned when they ‘grow up’ and marry men). Ushio being a lesbian is discussed throughout, almost always in a negative manner. We get a flashback showing her budding friendship with Sumika, who at first is trying to draw her into the rest of the class because it’s her duties as class president, but over time they grow closer through the sheer joy of friendship.

It’s the sort of friendship you don’t want to lose, and much of this second volume sees both of them plastering on fake smiles and saying that they don’t want to ruin everything by confessions. The difficulty here is that they’re both such good friends that they can tell when the other person is fake smiling, and so naturally they spend the majority of the time unhappy, wondering why they’re drifting further apart. At the end of the main section of the omnibus (there’s an extra unrelated short story, which was rather dull), Ushio at least seems to have taken the next step in resolving things, but it remains to be seen whether Sumika will follow up on it.

Being an omnibus, there’s a lot more to discuss here. Akemi’s modeling career comes to an ignominious end, in a chapter that is meant to read as incredibly awkward, and does. There’s also some lovely comedy, mostly involving either Kyori and food or one of the minor side characters, who wears her hair back in a tight bun that makes her look comedic, thus disguising the fact that she’s secretly a gorgeous model. Most relevant is the introduction of two new freshman to the karate club, which now has enough members to actually compete. Mayu and Koi are meant to compare and contrast with Sumika and Ushio, and you get the sense that by the time high school finishes they too may come to a realization of just what they mean to each other.

I didn’t notice any egregious typos in this volume, so there’s no real reason whatsoever not to pick this omnibus up. It’s a must for any fans of yuri or even slow-boiling romantic frustration. In the final volume, due out in March, we should get the payoff.

By Makoto Shinkai and Midori Motohashi. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Afternoon. Released in North America by Vertical Comics.

I don’t really watch a lot of anime, but I know enough by osmosis that I am aware that the words ‘Makoto Shinkai’ and ‘bittersweet’ go together extremely well. I also recall the manga version of Five Centimeters Per Second, which lived up to that description very well. Now Vertical is releasing The Garden of Words, another by the same author. It’s still pretty riddled with emotion and emotional turmoil, but the good news is that there is a more optimistic ending that makes you think things might actually work out for the couple on the cover, even if several people might be skeeved a little by the May-August romance going on within the book.

Our hero is Takao, a young high school student who has dreams of being a shoemaker, but finds himself frustrated as he’s trying to do this self-taught, and still is not as good as he wants to be. He skips school whenever it’s raining and goes to a public gazebo to sketch people’s shoes. I like him. His frustration rings very true, and we can also see how he wants to try to help Yukari as well but is uncertain how to, so it just comes out as emotional turmoil. He also falls for her pretty fast, even though she’s clearly older than she is – he assumes that she is an office lady.

One of the more interesting things about this title is that it has some reverse bullying. Takao seems to get on fairly well with his fellow students. When we get the flashbacks that show us what led Yukino to her depressed current existence, though, we see that it was a case of the students bullying a young teacher. The girls in her class think she’s being too friendly with the boys, so begin to simply skip, and the rest of the class then joins in. The few remaining blame the teacher for the poorer instruction they receive as a result. And so Yukino quits, and we see in the scenes in her tiny apartment that she’s had tremendous trouble moving forward in life, to the point where she goes to the aforementioned gazebo just to drink.

But she and Takao have a strong bond, at first over poetry, and then because they seem to want to understand each other. I like that the poetry used was one of those quotes where you have to find the proper response, as it allows the whole thing to go full circle towards the end. I was a bit less happy with the way things did turn romantic – there’s nothing untoward here, but Takao does say he’s in love with Yukino, and the epilogue hints he’ll seek her out after he graduates from shoemaking school. The artist even shows off the discomfort of this by including a picture of a 20-year-old Yukino holding hands with an 8-year-old Takao in the extras. Teacher/student romance stories are far more popular in Japan than they are here, where anime fans still can’t say the words “Na-chan” without risking a fight.

Overall, however, this is exactly what you want from a Makoto Shinkai story, and the fact that it’s slightly happier and open ended also helps. And at one volume, it would also be a good present for someone who may have seen the film it’s based on.

By Ryu Mizunagi. Released in Japan by Kodansha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Good! Afternoon. Released in North America by Vertical Comics.

Sometimes when a company has a reputation for left-field, odd or intellectual manga titles, it can be a bit of a shock to see a license that goes against the grain. Such is the case with Witchcraft Works, which is not exactly a lowest common denominator title per se, but it definitely feels odd at Vertical, being the sort of thing I would have expected to see more with one of the more mainstream companies. Vertical it is, though, and the production is as always first rate. The content is pretty good as well, with the proviso that this feels very much like a first volume that hasn’t quite gotten a running start yet.

The best thing that Witchcraft Works has going for it are its two leads. The heroine, Ayaka, is the school princess, revered and good at everything she does. And, as we discover, she’s also a witch, there to protect our unwitting hero, Honoka. As a witch, she is also good at everything she does, being adept at fire magic to the point where she may literally be a fire elemental of some sort. Throughout this first volume, she doesn’t crack a smile or even vary her expressions, really – she is completely stoic. It works quite well for what she’s supposed to be. As for Honoka, given that his function here is mainly to be shocked at events spiraling around him and ask “what’s going on?” a lot, he does pretty well, and you identify with his frustration at being unable to do anything.

As for the villains and supporting cast, I will admit I was less impressed. The ‘moe’ aspect of the manga, since it can’t come out in its stone-faced heroine, tends to be shunted here. Thus, our first villain is a catgirl who uses bunnies to attack, her villain team that arrives later also looks like a collection of traits rather than people (though we’ve barely met them yet), and Ayaka’s waitress friend is there to have giant breasts and fall down a lot. It feels as if the author was told “there isn’t enough here that would remind people of Comic Alive, please add some fanservice pronto.” I hope that as the series goes on these villains will be fleshed out a bit more.

There is a healthy dose of humor, and I like that the story doesn’t take itself too seriously. I may have disliked the fanservice waitress, but her appallingness is lampshaded, and Honoka’s general bafflement can get so intense that footnotes are needed to remind readers that he’s an idiot. With a title like this, where catgirls are throwing around evil bunnies and our heroine decided to get intel by typing everyone to a stake and torturing them, a sense of humor is essential to not have it tip over into self-parody, and this strikes just the right note.

I wasn’t blown awway by this first volume, but it’s solid, and with an anime airing last year should definitely attract some readers, particularly those who like stoic female leads who don’t take any guff. We’ll see how it develops.