Reviews

By Sou Sagara and Okomeken. Released in Japan as “Hentai Ouji to Warawanai Neko” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Digital Manga Publishing.

I must admit I was rather surprised to see a title from Comic Alive licensed by someone other than Seven Seas, and had to double check to make sure that this wasn’t BL-related in some way. (Not that Comic Alive would go anywhere near BL.) But no, DMP is dipping their toe in this market, and doing so with a title that seems a bit more low-key than what we’ve seen from other Comic Alive titles released in North America lately, even if it does have the same basic storyline and outlook.

The story stars Yoto, a typical teenage boy who spends most of his days trying to look at girls’ panties (OK, a typical Japanese teenage boy). He’s very good at denying he’s doing anything wrong, and fate seems to love him, as whenever he’s caught perving it gets mistaken for him doing something noble. He’s still bothered by this, however, being a decent pervert at heart, and wishes he could be more honest. Then he hears about a cat statue that grants wishes, and it seems to work nicely on his best friend. So he goes to visit it, and promptly runs into an embarrassed, panicky girl who also wants to wish on the cat statue – she wants to make it so her feelings aren’t so visible. Unfortunately, they both get their wishes – he now can’t tell a lie at all, even to save his getting beaten up, and she’s a perfect stoic on the outside, no matter what she may be feeling.

Wackiness, as they say, ensues. As you can see by my taking a paragraph to write out the plot, there’s not much to this. The two leads quickly realize how horrific this has become, but of course they can’t take their wishes back so easily. And things are livened up by your typical moe manga archetypes in the supporting cast. Yoto and Tsukiko are already cliched types (heck, Tsukiko manages to be two in one, as we see her both as the stressed out over-emotional girl *and* the stoic), and they’re joined by a busty track star who’s queen of the school and a blonde tsundere princess who finds her match in Yoto’s new blunt and straightforward persona. A light-hearted harem manga ensues.

I have not been all that fond of Comic Alive titles recently. I Don’t Like You At All, Big Brother! and Haganai both tended to irritate more than amuse me, mostly because I prefer my moe to be relaxed and soft rather than hyperactive and angry. But this wasn’t quite as bad as those two. The lead was just a shade more sympathetic, the tsundere had a bit more dimension to her, the plot invited antics while still being interesting. Yes, there’s still lots of talk of breasts and panties, and the plot is a simple ‘role reversal’ type thing we’ve seen before in, say, Your and My Secret, but this ended up being OK. I’d recommend it, but DMP hasn’t put Volume 2 on their upcoming list for 2013 (after they return from print hiatus), meaning we won’t see a new volume, if we do at all, for over a year. Thus, I can’t actually recommend it that much. But it’s not too bad.

Story by Ryukishi07; Art by Kei Natsumi. Released in Japan in two separate volumes as “Umineko no Naku Koro ni: Legend of the Golden Witch” by Square Enix, serialized in the magazine Gangan Powered. Released in North America by Yen Press.

The story of Higurashi: When They Cry may not be finished here in North America, but that doesn’t mean we haven’t seen people clamoring for its sequel. And so Yen has decided to bring it out even as Higurashi reaches its climax, in the more economical but deluxe-looking omnibus format. Not to worry, though: it’s a spiritual sequel rather than an actual one. Only one minor character from Higurashi shows up in Umineko, and we don’t meet her in this particular volume. But Umineko certainly has a lot of what drew people to Higurashi. Cute moe-style girls (who later turn out to have terrifying sides), heroes who use over the top perverse antics to hide a darker side, and of course giant piles of corpses drawn in gruesome detail.

It can be a little hard for me not to try to compare the protagonists of Umineko with their predecessors, especially since some of them don’t quite live up to those heights. Maria in particular is meant to have a certain Rika-esque aspect to her, but comes across as more bipolar than anything else. I must also agree with her mother: the uuu-uuu thing is really annoying, I’ll take nipah any day. As for Battler, I am reminded that I really disliked Keiichi at first, then grew to like him quite a bit, and I hope the same thing happens here. I also hope that, like Higurashi, the boob jokes and fetishes get less important as the volumes continue. I realize they’re there to provide contrast and relief before the main events, but let’s face it: they’re there for an otaku audience which isn’t me.

As for the story itself, I’m intrigued. Ryukishi07 has already stated that the goal here is not Higurashi’s (figure out who was behind the killings), leading me to think that the chances of everyone eventually living happily ever after are far less likely. The goal seems to be ‘is this a fantasy world or not?’, with its discussion of witches and black magic being countered by Battler (and Eva’s) staunch common sense and realistic view. I admit I’m inclined to believe there’s a human element as well, but then we’ve barely started this series, and still haven’t properly met ‘Beatrice’, the witch whose message is behind the whole thing. In addition, this series is about an extended family rather than a group of friends. It’s easy to bond with a group of close friends, who you can choose. Family’s harder, as you’re born with them. Notably, the parents in Umineko seem to be playing a much larger role than they did in Higurashi, and I’m not entirely sure if the children are supposed to be the heroes here, Battler’s POV or no.

Higurashi was never particularly subtle and somber, but it seems to me that Umineko takes things even further into a theatricality that almost embraces the grand guignol. Battler’s expansive gestures, the parents’ florid arguments regarding the inheritance, and of course the over-the-top mutilation of the corpses, all seem to be something that would be more appropriate for an opera house than a manga volume. That’s not to say I didn’t like it, though. Once you get used to the fact that everything is over the top, it becomes a much more readable series – even Maria’s supposed terrifying faces cause a grin and a ‘here we go again’.

In the end, this is a series with the same positives and negatives as Higurashi. If you can get past the groping fanservice and the grotesque murders, at its heart this is a mystery that will play out over the course of many volumes, and this is most likely merely meant as a taster introduction. Hopefully next volume we’ll meet the witch and get a few more answers. Then again, the first 2 volumes of Higurashi gave us no answers whatsoever…

By Yumi Unita. Released in Japan as “Usagi Drop” by Shodensha, serialized in the magazine Feel Young. Released in North America by Yen Press.

Please do not discuss Bunny Drop in the comments beyond Volume 7.

Everyone thinks a lot in Bunny Drop. I don’t just mean that we see their thoughts in addition to their dialogue, which we do, but that they think deeply all the time. Weighing decisions – and then wondering if they’re the correct ones – is something that Daikichi and Rin have done since this series began, and now that Rin is getting near graduating from school, she’s starting to think about her future. Which will involve having to resolve her past, and that means that she is finally going to have to meet Masako.

Yumi Unita knows that the best way to write a lovable, heartwarming manga is to make sure everything is as awkward as possible, so I was relieved to see that when Rin and Masako finally do meet, it wasn’t all hugs and tears and resolve to see each other every 2nd Saturday from now on. Rin still barely remembers Masako, even now – though we find out a reason for that here – and Masako may be moving on with her life and trying to be a better person, but she still acts like she regards Rin as a failed time in her life that makes her think lots of things she doesn’t want to. Masako’s childish qualities haven’t gone away, and it’s still very hard to sympathize with her. But we’re meant to be on Rin’s side here anyway.

Rin does a lot of soul searching here, spurred on partly by what happened with Kouki in Vol. 6 and partly through hearing about Reina getting a boyfriend (and then later watching it fall apart). She’s spent her last ten years growing up in an unconventional family, and realizes that she has a rather small pool of friends as well, mostly as she’s not doing clubs or sports, but going home to take care of Daikichi. I don’t think this is meant to be a dig on Daikichi himself – the general sense is that Rin really wants to do these things, and is likely better at cooking, etc., so has just stepped into this role at home.

Daikichi, meanwhile, is also growing older, and is having to deal with a serious injury for the first time – he puts his back out catching Rin when she falls off a stool. Given that he works in the shipping industry, this could be a big problem if it lingers. I was amused to see his co-workers coming over and reminiscing about their own back pains of the past, as well as Kouki’s mother telling Rin she had a back injury when she was in her twenties. But all this does is remind us how insular Daikichi’s own life has become as well. He doesn’t really hang out with co-workers anymore – his closest friend, in fact, may be Kouki.

So Rin is wondering about what it means to be a mother, and what it means to be a daughter. And realizing that the time may come when her life takes her away from Daikichi. And, unsurprisingly given how she’s grown up, she is not particularly fond of that day coming at all. That said, it’s not clear that day is coming soon in the manga either. The romantic drama we saw in Vol. 6 gets a brief mention here, but for the most part still appears to be over. So where does Rin go from here? Stay tuned for Vol. 8, coming out in April. Which may have a certain elephant that’s been lurking around the room. In the meantime, Vol. 7 gives us more of what we like about this series – thoughtful moments in the life of a kid who’s far too smart (but naive) for her own good.

By Satoko Kiyuduki. Released in Japan as “Hitsugi Katsugi no Kuro – Kaichu Tabi no Wa” by Houbunsha, serialization ongoing in the magazine Manga Time Kirara. Released in North America by Yen Press.

I never reviewed the first two volumes of Shoulder-a-Coffin Kuro, the main reason being that I didn’t have a blog when they were both released. It’s been four long years (and 4 volumes of GA Art Design Class, the cute 4-koma series by the same author that many fans blame for Kuro’s hiatus) since we last saw the adventures of the stoic girl and her coffin. Indeed, the author apologizes profusely at the end of Vol. 3 for the delay, and hopes that we’ll keep reading regardless. Luckily, that should not be an issue. Not only is there a particularly vicious cliffhanger to keep us hungry for Vol. 4, but picking up this series again is like revisiting an old friend – after a few pages it’s like they never went away.

A lot of people note that this series often has a downbeat and melancholy tone, which is true and certainly doesn’t go away here. It’s just as important, though, that it manages to keep a light touch, mostly in its portrayal of Nijuku and Sanju. TV Tropes has a page called ‘Morality Chain’ which discusses characters whose basic existence is what keeps our heroes on the straight and narrow. While Kuro isn’t close to becoming a supervillain, there is a certain sense that the two mysterious children/scientific experiments function that way to this series as a whole. They have the childlike wonder of a Yotsuba, while also being able to sustain a level of creepy due to their supernatural origins. It makes for a good balance.

As for the manga itself, much of it is the same as the previous two volumes – Kuro, Sen and the two kids roaming the countryside of ‘generic pre-industrial world’ and trying to find information about the witch who cursed Kuro. And while there are stand-alone plots throughout that have nothing whatsoever to do with Kuro’s past, we are starting to see events come together into a coherent whole. We meet a strange young woman who is called a witch, and who ‘is searching for the person searching for her’ – an obvious connection to Kuro. Kuro, meanwhile, not only deals with her mirror opposite, but also her possible evil twin… though given what we know of Kuro before her curse, there may be far less difference between them than we’d like.

And much as I enjoyed the fluffy slice-of-life chapters and the twins, they are outnumbered by the melancholy in the end. We meet wind-up dolls waiting forever for their long-dead owners, and fairy-tale legends built around not-so-great men. But most of all, we get Kuro, who walks on her journey with an air of stoic suffering that is absolutely necessary. She is not stoic by choice, but by pure force of will. And when that will is shattered – as it is at the end of this volume when she encounters a war veteran searching for his wife and daughter – we are reminded that Kuro is CURSED, and there’s a very good reason why she carries that coffin all the time.

As I said, Kiyuduki urges us all to forgive her hiatus and watch over Kuro for a little longer. And she couldn’t have chosen a better volume to get us to do it. I *need* to find out what happens next. Unfortunately, while Kuro may no longer be on hiatus, it’s still not the fastest series in the world, so I may have to stoically suffer until the next volume. Get this book at once, and go back and get 1 and 2 as well if you didn’t already.

By Yomi Hirasaka and Itachi. Released in Japan as “Boku wa Tomodachi ga Sukunai” by Media Factory, serialization ongoing in the magazine Comic Alive. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

It can sometimes be very difficult to practice what I preach. It’s all very well and good for me to offer advice to others, but sometimes a situation comes up where I have to take it. And so it goes with this first volume of Haganai, where I can’t help but hear the voice in the back of my head reminding me of Teru Teru x Shonen, where I urged bloggers who read Vol. 1 and then stopped to not judge an ongoing character arc by its first volume. And so it goes with Haganai, where I feel obliged to note that the plot is likely meant to be ‘this characters grow better and learn to be nice as the series goes on’. Or at least I hope so, as Haganai has some of the most irritating leads you’ll ever meet.

As if you had not been able to guess by the title and cover, Haganai is based on a series of light novels. The basic premise seems like some odd fusion of Haruhi Suzumiya and Toradora: a young man who has trouble making friends due to his natural blond hair and his squinty eyes meets an antisocial young woman who has trouble making friends with anyone. After a brief discussion, she gets the idea to form a club, supposedly devoted to learning how to make friends but in reality most likely just an excuse to hang out. Of course, she doesn’t count on the club actually gaining new members, all of whom are just as socially maladjusted as she is.

One thing the manga does that I enjoyed was have a ‘Chapter 0’ which takes place several months after the events of the rest of the book, a flash-forward of sorts showing us what the club will eventually be like. It helps to introduce the major players (including several who then don’t show up again for the rest of the volume) and shows off the basic plot and how it leads to cringe-inducing humor. Seeing it, I felt a bit more prepared for the rest of the volume.

Unfortunately, Haganai is also part of a brand of ‘moe’ that I’ve never really come to love. The old ‘harem genre’ of shonen manga used to have the nebbish hero choosing between nice girls, tsundere girls and the occasional bottle fairy, but there was never any indication that the girls weren’t able to function in society as a whole. But manga lately, mostly due to the related boom in light novels, has seen a huge increase in socially maladjusted high schoolers who simply can’t interact properly with anyone (except of course our hero… and even then). And you’re left exhausted as you see them blackmailing people gleefully as it would be fun to abuse them (as Yozora does here) or getting offended that the male lead refuses to act as her slave/footstool (as Sena does). It’s a love triangle of two girls who re all tsun and no dere. And what that leaves is basically a somewhat nondescript hero listening to two loud and obnoxious women yell for 200 pages.

That said, as I noted, clearly the premise will be (besides which girl gets the guy) about seeing the nice and sweet side of these girls. But it’s getting harder to justify digging for it. Even Haruhi Suzumiya eventually mellows out. Can I expect the same for Yozora and Sena?

By Kaoru Shintani. Released in Japan as “Christie High Tension” by Media Factory, serialized in the magazine Comic Flapper. Released in North America by Seven Seas.

The second omnibus volume of Young Miss Holmes, I will admit, did not thrill me quite as much as the first. Shintani is starting to have more difficulty inserting Christie and company into the Holmes stories, and I suspect, given there’s 3 volumes (one omnibus) to go after this that he might veer off the canonical road soon. He also has that odd habit that most manga writers who started in the 70s and 80s do of inserting humor – usually quite low humor – at the oddest points, something he no doubt got from Tezuka (you can see traces of this in Adachi and Takahashi’s writing as well). That said, this is still a lot of fun, with Christie being incredibly precocious while avoiding cloying qualities, and some much needed backstory for her two maids.

The first half of the book is taken up with The Hound of the Baskervilles, quite possibly the most famous of the Holmes stories. There are no attempts to alter the outcome of the story such as we saw before, and it spins out (with much compression) as expected. As I noted above, we get lots of opportunities to see Christie be brilliant, making deductions and logical leaps. At the same time, though, she has the patience and drive of a 10-year-old girl, and her maids realize this – though they’re still not able to corral her very well. And, as Shintani knows what’s popular and what isn’t, we get some nice opportunities of seeing Nora using her whip, including a battle with the Hound (which doesn’t go well, but luckily she has an unseen rescuer.) And again, thankfully, Holmes arrives at the solution faster than anyone else, including Christie.

The second story adapted here is The Adventure Of The Six Napoleons, which has a solution that is obvious enough that Shintani can easily write Holmes out of the tale and have Christie solving everything. This also reintroduces Detective Dexter of Scotland Yard, who we briefly saw in Hound, and who pops up every now and then from now on. He has an immediate attraction to head maid Ann Marie, something Christie notes and is quick to take advantage of. Again, the case plays out much like the original, but makes for a nicely entertaining adaptation.

A brief short story, The Memories of Nora, follows, and is what it sounds like: an original story by Shintani showing Nora’s life to date and how she became a maid at the Hope Estate. It’s not a pleasant childhood to say the least (and has some annoying ‘evil gypsies’ stereotypes to boot), but lets us see that Nora has no regrets as to where she’s ended up.

The final Holmes story adapted for Christie is The Five Orange Pips. Wisely, Shintani leaves the main mystery to Holmes, if only so that Christie doesn’t have to feel responsible for the fallout. Christie’s plot rests with Ann Marie, who has a complete freakout when she hears about the pips. As with most modern North American readers, the solution is far more obvious these days – we know what KKK stands for – so the storyline concentrates on Ann Marie’s own tragic childhood, and her change from a sweet little child to an instrument of God’s vengeance (as Holmes rather awkwardly puts it).

I must note once again that Seven Seas’ All Ages rating for the book is entirely inappropriate, in my opinion. Leaving aside the brief non-sexual shots of underage nudity, there’s simply a giant pile of violence here, including lingering shots of corpses with their throats slit, as well as a young girl killing an entire mansion full of people. I get that ratings can sometimes drive sales, and that it’s very hard to sell books starring 10-year-old cuties to adults. But come on.

That said, I am very grateful to Seven Seas for bringing out this series, which is a fast-paced and fun mystery series with a cute and sharp as a whip protagonist, and can’t wait (though I will have to, as it’s not out till September 2013) for the conclusion. And note with amusement that even Christie herself has started to call her maids ‘Herculean’.

By Mitsuru Adachi. Released in Japan in 2 separate volumes by Shogakukan, serialized in the magazine Shonen Sunday. Released in North America by Viz.

And so, at last, after two delays (this was supposed to be out in July), we have the final volume of Cross Game. And perhaps the final Adachi in North America or a while, though I hope I’m wrong. If it is the last, though, at least we got this, a terrific story which both encompasses exactly what Adachi does best and also plays with his own cliches. Plus it’s one hell of a final game.

There’s a lot of flashbacks and flashforwards throughout the entire volume, as despite this being the big winner goes to the Koshien game, there’s a lot on everyone’s mind. Wakaba, her dream for Ko and Akaichi, and Akane’s surgery, all of which we are aware of. And Ko and Aoba’s conversation before the game, which we only get half of. Though I think we might be able to guess, especially given that Ko prefaces it by asking if he can lie. The flashbacks are all revelatory even as we reach the final volume. The old man who remembers Ko throwing baseballs against his wall with tears in his eyes is touching and sad, then we get Aoba’s own memories, as she catches him doing it. The manga has made it seem at times as if Ko coasts and doesn’t put in the work – this shows that he’s been doing it all along, but it’s a secret. Or a lie. Take your pick.

Some folks have noted they felt that the Akane plot was superfluous, but as I’ve stated before, I think that Adachi did that deliberately to contrast Aoba, so unlike his usual heroines, with Akane, who’s a carbon copy of the type he normally writes. Akane’s quite never-give-up attitude towards her surgery, her waking up to the satisfaction of seeing Akaishi hit an RBI for the first run of the game, and just generally being sweet. This is probably another reason why Cross Game was the perfect license for North America – we are a land which favors the Aobas of the world.

The game itself is a pitcher’s duel, of course, and Ko gets to show off both his batting and pitching chops. It’s the perfect game for a manga narrative (despite Aoba literally walking over to Adachi to suggest a plot at one point – it’s nice to see the 4th wall being broken right to the end), and the outcome is satisfying on both sides, even if one finds it bittersweet. And all that’s left is the realizations – not just Junpei and his marriage proposal/bet, but also Aoba, who understands as Ko walks towards her that Ko and Aoba were able to satisfy Wakaba’s dream. It’s a very emotional moment, and played as one.

But life goes on, and the final chapter is a scene of everyone getting ready for another trip – even if things have changed between the leads. Ko has always described himself as a liar, but it’s Aoba who gets the last word, with the biggest lie she’s ever told Even after she wonders to herself why she and Ko have to be so alike. A fitting end to a terrific series.

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

I warn you in advance, this is another One Piece volume consisting primarily of one big fight, with many tiny little fights interspersed therein. Luckily, One Piece is dense enough that there’s still stuff to talk about even if the plot is mostly ‘Luffy hits the villain until he wins’.

One reason that the non-Luffy battles are so inconsequential is this is the big opportunity for Oda to show off how far his cast had improved in the two-year gap before the Fishman Island arc. There are some supposedly impressive mimi-bosses, but it’s notable that the only one who makes a really strong impression is the silliest, Zeo. It’s no coincidence that Zeo faces off against Brook, one of the silliest Straw Hat Pirates. He really is fantastically funny, and helps to liven up what might otherwise simply be a long stretch of battle. Usopp, too, has leveled up, and being who he is, gets to lampshade it. He doesn’t have to use fake balloon hammers or Sogeking anymore, he’s not tough enough to take on these bad guys with ease. Even Chopper has leveled up, coming to terms with his monster form and thus becoming able to control it.

The ongoing Fishman Island plot has been about racism, and this volume is no exception. It notes that Hody’s Fishman Uber Alles attitude may be stronger and angrier, but it’s also more hollow – he has no actual experience with what the Fishmen went through, but has merely grown up surrounded by a culture of hate. That’s not something easily changed, not even with a petition or really good thoughts. It has become, as the translation explicitly states, a holy war, and Neptune’s sons finally ask Luffy to do something that they cannot – wreck the entire island, reduce their past culture, with all its hatred, to smithereens.

This, of course, would fit the prophecy while not immediately spelling doom for everyone. Which is good, as this is also a good volume for seeing the good side of Fishman Island, and of One Piece heroes in general. You can always tell a character that Oda likes (even if they may be a villain) by their tendency not to give up even under the face of the worst adversity. Even the children watching the battle refuse to evacuate. And there’s a difference between this sort of strength and obsession, which is what we see from Hody and Vander Decken, who are perfectly happy with taking out countless innocents as long as they achieve their goals.

That said, I will admit to being a bit exhausted by this arc. It looks like it’s going to wrap up soon, for which I am thankful. I also wish we could have seen Nami and Robin do a bit more, but I can’t have everything. At least Sanji wasn’t too big an idiot this time. Next volume we wrap things up here and set off on a new adventure in the New World. Will we add a new crewman as well? I doubt it, but you never know with Luffy…

By Rikdo Koshi. Released in Japan by Shonen Gahosha, serialized in the magazine Young King OURS. Released in North America by Viz.

Given everything that’s been happening over the last few volumes of Excel Saga, this volume might read at first glance like it’s a bit of a breather. Miwa barely appears, and the same can be said for Il Palazzo. A lot of time is spent trying to ‘fix’ Excel – or rather get her to realize the fix she’s in, but this doesn’t really happen either, mostly as relying on Elgala to bring this about is both hilarious and terrible. What we do see here, though, is a continuation of Rikdo’s ongoing deepening of the characterization. Excel, Hyatt, Misaki, Umi, Watanabe, and even Iwata get depth to them here that makes you sit back and think about just how screwed up their lives have become, and how it’s a lot less easy to accept that now that they’re not cartoon people who get blown up a lot but keep reviving.

For all that I didn’t care for the Teriha plotline, its effects continue to be felt by the group. Umi is still devastated by the disappearance of her friend, and a scene with Iwata (who, for once, gives helpful and useful advice – something he lampshades immediately) shows us how desperately she is clinging to Teriha, given the difficulty she has making friends. There’s a rather startling monologue where she notes that her mother initially thought she was a prodigy, but then she met Shiouji and figured out how far from his heights she was. It’s heartbreaking, in that, although it reminds is that Umi isn’t really dumb, just a klutz and a bit ditzy, there’s also the feeling that she could have been more – at such a young age, finding yourself so limited must be crushing, and I think it helps to explain a lot of her personality, as well as why she’s so devoted to Shiouji. I wonder if he ever thinks about any of this?

As for Iwata, he starts off with minimal memories of the last several years, but thanks to an outbreak of mysterious plot (was this Miwa? It doesn’t quite have the same feel), he seems to be back to himself, physically and mentally (albeit still in an indestructible robot body). In fact, as I noted above, he seems to be a bit less thoughtless and jerkass-ish than before, though that might change at any moment (his variable personality continues to be a sign that he may not live past the series). He’s also the one who knows immediately how to get through to Excel, something Elgala has to be coached to say: mention Umi. As for Misaki, she has less to do here, but is getting more distrustful of everything – and I can’t really blame her, given what’s going on with Iwata and what Shiouji isn’t really telling her. Her emotions are becoming more visible by the day.

Watanabe and Hyatt, meanwhile, seem to have resolved their own plot – and I say seemed because things could turn on a dime at any time. This does lend itself to one of the funnier bits of the volume, where Watanabe attempts to stalk Hyatt but keeps getting distracted by things that require a superhero – which, as Kabapu notes, sort of defeats the purpose of a secret identity, even if its intentions are ultimately good. As if to reward him for doing good deeds (as opposed to being the uncaring sleazy louse he’d morphed into during the Teriha arc), he actually does get to catch up with Hyatt and have a conversation with her. And… it doesn’t go his way, as expected. What surprised me was that Hyatt basically confirms here that she does have feelings for Watanabe, and does now remember him again. The only thing holding her back is her loyalty to Il Palazzo. Hyatt is by her nature one of the most opaque of the Excel Saga bunch, so it’s good to see her getting some depth as well.

And then there’s Excel. She now has an indestructible robot body as well – one that doesn’t even need to rest and power up, to Shiouji’s surprise – and can now finally keep up with Il Palazzo in every way. But it doesn’t seem quite enough, and even constantly heaping abuse on Elgala isn’t the same. It doesn’t help that both Iwata and Elgala remind her of Umi, that being the only thing that might distract her from ACROSS. Indeed, we get to see a rare shot of Excel acting tsundere, still attempting to deny that the Teriha memories are not quite as gone as she’s like them to be, and that she may need Umi’s friendship as much as Umi needed hers. (After all, Excel’s two closest female friends, Hyatt and Elgala, are not really all that close.) My favorite moment of the entire volume, though, was when she reported to Il Palazzo, making his only appearance in this scene. It’s arguable whether it’s really him, but let’s not go there right now. Instead of his usual abuse, he invites her to sit down by his side in the chair next to him. Hardly believing it, she does so – and the look on her face is possibly the cutest we’ve ever seen her, as Carl Horn remarks in his notes. For all that Excel’s devotion to Il Palazzo is used for humor, at its core is a deep, unconditional love. And it’s shown here at its purest, making you actually want to root for them to get together.

We now know that Excel Saga will end with Vol. 27. Luckily, Viz has sped up its release to twice a year again (probably as they now know it’s ending), so Vol. 25 will be out this April. Excel Saga has its faults, of course. The plot can get very confusing even if you do have the photographic memory required to deal with all the various subplots. And Rikdo’s fanservice fetish, now allowed to flourish after the series became a hit, can get very annoying to those who recall he used to draw girls with normal, if busty, proportions, and clothing that was a bit more modest. But there’s still no other manga series out there that has me as invested in its outcome as this (and yes, I have the last three in Japanese, but it’s not the SAME). Join me in April as I prepare to overanalyze Vol. 25 as well! And thanks to Carl Horn and Viz for continuing it to completion!

By Io Sakisaka. Released in Japan by Shueisha, serialized in the magazine Bessatsu Margaret (“Betsuma”). Released in North America by Viz.

As many readers of this blog know, give me a choice between a new series that’s daring, bold, experimental and avant-garde and a new series that’s more of the same as all the other series except with different bits, and I will go for the latter every time. I appreciate the value of alt-manga, but am far more happy reading Vol. 97 of Shoujo Girl X. Usually because every time I do, even if it seems like it’s going to be more of the same, there’s always something that ends up drawing me in. These series all have to compete in Japan with 7,000 other high-school romances. There needs to be something that stood out enough to have it be a success there and get licensed here. Which brings me to Strobe Edge.

The cover really says it all – it’s hard to look at and not feel ‘well, it’s a bit overly sweet, isn’t it?’ without even reading the content. And the first half of the book doesn’t seemingly do much to change that opinion. Ninako is naive and a bit flighty, but not overly ditzy. She’s got a group of close female friends (who so far have stayed her friends, yay!) as well as a male childhood friend that everyone assumes she is in love with, mostly as he is clearly in love with her and that’s how these things go. Ninako, however, isn’t sure what she feels for Daiki is love. And she has *no idea* what these feelings she has are when she runs into Ren, the school heartthrob and all-around mysterious guy.

As I said, so far so normal. If I told you Daiki was blond and Ren had black hair, I assume you’d be totally unsurprised. But gradually I started to realize that more thought was being put into the plot than I suspected. Ninako may seem flighty, but she thinks hard about everything, and once she realizes that what she’s feeling for Ren is love, all sorts of extra problems come up. As for Daiki, he is obviously the ‘unlucky childhood friend’ who is there to provide the love triangle, but this does not make his crush on Ninako any less weighty, especially as we see its origins. He’s a nice guy, as Ninako herself says, and we feel for him even as we root for Ninako to get together with Ren, because that’s how these things go.

The second half of this volume really picks things up, and I was quite startled a few times. Ren, for one, is not really the aloof loner type he presents… or at least not around Ninako, which is a good sign. Of course, things aren’t as simple as ‘if I just worked up my courage to confess, we’d be together’. Ren’s own life intertwines with Daiki’s in very unexpected ways, and as Ninako herself notes, when you fall in love with someone the feelings don’t merely vanish just because you get rejected. I suspect the plot of much of Strobe Edge will deal with that, given the large number of unrequited relationships we bring out here.

Strobe Edge begins with its heroine thinking about what it means to be in love, and I suspect that’s what the whole series is going to be about. It’s working with stock shoujo manga types, but what it’s doing with them is interesting. Which, as I said before, is exactly what I look for in ‘normal’ shoujo manga.

By Ema Toyama. Released in Japan as “Watashi ni xx Shinasai!” by Kodansha, serialized in the magazine Nakayoshi. Released in North America by Kodansha Comics.

There has been a certain growing trend in shoujo manga that gets licensed over here lately, pulling away from the overly perky/helpless female lead in favor of someone a lot more sarcastic, cold, and awkward. And I for one could not be happier. Yes, it can be argued that this type of shoujo doesn’t sell quite as well as Black Bird and the like, but its heroines are usually a breath of fresh air, especially given how they deal with the heroes, many of whom remain the same heartthrob of the school types.

Yukina, the heroine of Missions of Love, is not quite as sharp as the two other heroines she calls to mind, Kanoko from ‘The Secret Notes Of Lady Kanoko’ and Maria from ‘Devil and Her Love Song’. But then this did run in Nakayoshi, which caters to a much younger demographic than the other two titles. The author’s comments even notes that she was told this isn’t really the sort of thing Nakayoshi does. So I suspect that the goal here may be to see how long Yukina’s natural-born snark can win out against the narrative trying to get her to say ‘what is this strange feeling in my heart?’ This is not helped by this being her own goal as well.

Yukina is a secret popular cell-phone novelist, a genre that has not really taken off in North America yet… I think the best description would be drabbles strung together into a narrative. Her talent and intelligence have made her quite a draw, but her social ineptness means that her works lack a certain… heat. So she wants to find out how love feels, but is not callous enough to ask some normal guy to show her what this Earth thing called kissing is. That’s when she spots Shigure, the popular male in the class, getting hit on by someone else. And rejecting her politely. And then… ticking off her name in a book?

Yes, finding out about love is all right as long as there’s no actual emotion involved. So now that she knows Shigure is a jerk, she can feel free to emotionally blackmail him. This is the meat of the book, and also the best part, for several reasons. Shigure has gotten through life by observing people’s likes and faults and playing up to them – he even has a notebook full of traits to note – but Yukina is not only better than him at it but doesn’t need to write it down. He tries to blackmail her right back a few times, unsuccessfully. She’s probably just what he needs. Yukina, meanwhile, is not without fault – she hasn’t mentioned her books at all (she is, after all, a secret author), so her come-ons to Shigure sound even weirder than we know them to be. It’s hard to learn about love when you have no concept of real social interaction.

I didn’t even mention her cousin, who seems poised to be the romantic rival if the cliffhanger to Vol. 1 is anything to go by. But I suspect he won’t be too much of an issue. The reason to read this is the same reason we enjoy watching the best screwball comedies – to see the guy and girl exchange barbs and grow closer even as they both try to manipulate each other. Good stuff. (And, despite the Japanese title, decidedly G-rated.)