Saiyuki 1-3 by Kazuya Minekura: B

Although Saiyuki‘s sequels and prequel ran/run in magazines aimed at a female audience, the original was serialized in GFantasy, which, as MJ pointed out in her Black Butler review, features many shounen series created by and appealing to women. Therefore, while I associate Saiyuki with intense female fandom, it still technically qualifies for inclusion in the Shounen Sundays experiment.

Saiyuki is based on the famous Chinese tale, Xi-You-Ji, or Journey to the West. Accordingly, the story begins with a Buddist monk, Genjyo Sanzo, receiving orders from a bodhisattva to gather three youkai (supernatural beings) companions and travel with them to India to stop the resurrection of a dangerous youkai lord known as Gyumaoh. Whoever is attempting the revival has combined human science and youkai magic in forbidden ways, resulting in a “Minus Wave” that has turned normally peaceful youkai into monsters and threatens the harmonious cohabitation they have enjoyed with humans. Sanzo and his companions, who are protected from the Minus Wave by virtue of either part-human lineage or power limiters, duly travel west as ordered.

The real point of the story, however, lies not in thwarting Gyumaoh’s return—a plot which proceeds at a pace best described as glacial—but in the characters and their personal journeys. In addition to Genjyo Sanzo, the priest who believes only in himself, there’s Sha Gojyo, a half-youkai womanizer; Cho Hakkai, a generally level-headed manipulator of chi; and Son Goku, the energetic Monkey King. Each character has a painful backstory more detailed than the main plot and as they travel ever so slowly westward, their various encounters with violent youkai or would-be assassins lead to gradually more revelations about their lives before they met.

While some of them get along well from the start—it seems Gojyo and Hakkai have been friends for a long time—Sanzo, the sole human of the group, initially has trouble trusting that his companions will not someday succumb to the effects of the Minus Wave and turn on him. Gradually, trust grows all around, leading to some nice moments of what I like to call “teamy goodness.” The characters are so compelling—though I could do without the constant (and grating) siblingesque arguing between Gojyo and Goku—that one finds oneself reading just for them. I really don’t care at all about Gyumaoh, for example, and the youkai encounters are already getting repetitive, but the promise that the fourth volume will offer more information about Hakkai makes me eager to continue the series.

It’s not just the heroes that are likable, though. I love a story with sympathetic villains, and so far Saiyuki has produced several. The chief antagonist so far is Kougaiji, son of Gyumaoh who is (unwillingly) doing the bidding of his father’s lover on the basis of a promise to free his mother from some kind of… containment. He sends members of his band to target Sanzo and his group, eventually arriving in person with his (mostly) likable inner echelon of followers. One gets the sense that he regrets having to fight Sanzo, but has no choice if he wants to free his mother. Another villain turns out to be a former priestly comrade of Sanzo’s who voluntarily cursed himself so that he could protect other priests from murderous thieves responsible for the death of Sanzo’s master. This brings up some informative and painful memories for Sanzo, as one might expect.

Artistically, Minekura has improved a lot since the early days of Saiyuki. Even by volume three the art is looking better, but initially the contrast between the covers and interiors is pretty major. This especially manifests itself in characters with droopy eyes, like Sanzo and the bodhisattva, who end up looking severely deformed on a number of occasions. I’m also strongly reminded, by some of the costumes, character designs, and the feel of the story as a whole, of Yun Kouga’s Gestalt (not that this is a bad thing). They did run in the same magazine, so perhaps that’s not unusual.

Ultimately, I liked Saiyuki a lot more than I’d expected to. It’s no Wild Adapter, and it’s a little bit pokey and a little bit silly, but it’s still much better than I thought it would be.

Saiyuki is published in English by TOKYOPOP and all nine volumes have been released. TOKYOPOP also publishes a sequel, Saiyuki Reload, and has released nine volumes of that series, as well. No word yet on a release date for the tenth and final volume.

This is my fourth and final Shounen Sundays review. Thanks again to MJ for participating along with me. It’s been fun!

Chi’s Sweet Home 1 by Konami Kanata: A-

From the back cover:
TAKE THIS KITTY HOME

Chi is a mischievous newborn American shorthair who, while on a leisurely stroll with her family, found herself lost. When we found Chi it was clear to us she was completely distraught as she longed for the warmth and protection of her mother. Feeling sympathy for the little furball, we quietly whisked her away, inviting her into our small apartment home… where pets are strictly not permitted. While we dread parting with her, there is no way she can stay.

Little Chi is a happy and healthy litter-box trained kitten. And while she can be a little bit of a handful, she has been a great source of joy in our lives and a wonderful companion to our young son. Living with Chi has completely changed our lives, and we are sure she will have the same impact with whomever gives her a good home.

Review:
One day, a small tabby kitten is enjoying a stroll with her mother and siblings when she’s distracted by a fascinating bird and ends up getting separated from her family. She’s found by a small boy named Yohei, and his parents end up taking care of her in their no-pets-allowed apartment while they try to find someone willing to take her. Eventually, of course, they wind up falling in love with the adorable kitten and decide to keep her.

At first, Chi is determined to get home, but pesky distractions like bowls of milk and tantalizingly drippy faucets keep delaying her departure. In time, memories of her feline mother fade and she begins to look on her human caretakers as her new family, even though they subject her to horrors like baths and trips to the vet. Chi’s kitty behavior is not idealized—a few chapters deal with her struggle to find an acceptable place to “wee,” for example—but is sympathetic because a) she’s incredibly cute and b) readers have insight to her thoughts, be they earnestly confused (see above re: wee) or simply exuberant (her delight in the discovery that Daddy’s jeans are the ideal surface for sharpening one’s claws).

I had fully expected to find Chi adorable—it took only eight panels for me to say “Aww!”—but hadn’t considered that Yohei would be just as cute. I’m not sure how old he is—not quite old enough to be perfectly potty trained himself—but he’s a clever little boy, and it’s he who ends up giving Chi the clue she needs to figure out that the box in the bathroom with all the lumpy stuff in it is sadly not a playpen but her new toilet. (As a side note, I had always figured that Chi’s name was related to chiisai, the Japanese word for small, but it actually relates to pee. Poor kitty!)

Although unusual for manga, the full-color artwork in Chi’s Sweet Home is absolutely gorgeous. It’s vibrant without being garish, and is such an integral part of the story that I find it impossible to imagine how this series must look when it runs in Morning, at which point in time the art is still black-and-white. I don’t think I even want to know! The warm colors, small trim size, and left-to-right orientation (a smart marketing decision on Vertical’s part) all contribute to a book that looks and feels like something kids would be drawn to. I’m going to test this theory by loaning it to my coworker’s daughter.

On a final note, Chi has at her disposal a vast array of facial expressions. As I read, a thought kept niggling at me: “This reminds me of something. What is it?!” After much pondering, I realized that some of the faces Chi makes remind me of Kimi ni Todoke’s Sawako in super-deformed moments. Presented for your consideration:

Chi’s Sweet Home is published in English by Vertical, Inc. Volume one will be released on June 29, 2010. The series is ongoing in Japan, where volume seven came out two months ago.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

The Color of Heaven by Kim Dong Hwa: C+

From the front flap:
Ehwa, now a confident young woman, finds herself in the same maddening situation as her mother: waiting for a man. Her mother hopes for the return of her roaming lover, and Ehwa, in turn, gazes up at the same moon as her fiancé Duksam, a farmer who has gone to sea to seek his fortune so that he can marry her.

Review:
I do honestly want to like The Color Trilogy. I like the idea of a mother and her daughter living together in a rural village in turn-of-the-century Korea. I like learning about food and traditions that are new to me. I like the detailed drawings of the landscape and, especially, the family kitchen. The problem is there’s just so much about the series that annoys me that I simply can’t like it.

The central plot of this volume is that Ehwa’s love, Duksam, has left town to attempt to make a living as a fisherman, and so she is left to wait around until he returns to marry her. Her mother is also waiting for her traveling salesman lover to stop by, so they proceed to have many, many conversations about men and how it’s the lot of women to wait for them. I’m not sure they ever talk about anything but men, actually.

I know that the limited scope of life for a woman in this time and place is historically accurate, and that for a mother to say, “There is nothing better in life than getting married” reflects a period where marriage provided the ultimate in protection for a woman. But still, I can’t help but get fired up by speeches like this:

After waiting and waiting, you begin to lose track of whether it’s the moon or the sun in the sky, and that’s when he comes in with a smile on his face. As soon as you see that face, all is forgotten and you begin chasing after his footsteps once again. That is the heart of a woman.

To be honest, I think a large part of my ire is due to the fact that The Color Trilogy is written by a man. If a woman wrote these things, I’d still be annoyed, but coming from a male author I can’t help but read such statements as downright condescending. Try as I might to view these attitudes through a historical lens, I’m simply unable to get over my knee-jerk reaction.

It isn’t only Ehwa and her mother who are obsessed with discussing men and women. Everyone in town gets into the metaphor that women are flowers waiting for butterflies (men) to alight upon them, and almost all of them talk in language that’s incredibly, ridiculously poetic. In an early example, Duksam says, “I’m going to head for the sea. The sea that’s as wet and salty as your tears, and as bold and clear as your eyes.” Now, I admit that I have little appreciation for poetry, but this sounds to me like something one would come up with as a parody of purple prose.

Every now and then someone speaks plainly, like when Duksam frankly discusses his fear of leaving Ehwa behind, which had me wishing for more of the same. All of the imagery and metaphor might appeal to some readers, but to me, I would’ve enjoyed The Color Trilogy a lot more had it been more straightforward.

I reviewed The Color of Heaven for this month’s Manga Manhwa Moveable Feast. More reviews and discussion of this trilogy can be found here.

The Laughing Cavalier by Baroness Orczy: B

From the back cover:
The year is 1623, the place Haarlem in the Netherlands. Diogenes—the first Sir Percy Blakeney, the Scarlet Pimpernel’s ancestor—and his friends Pythagoras and Socrates defend justice and the royalist cause. The famous artist Frans Hals also makes an appearance in this historical adventure. Orczy maintains that Hals’ celebrated portrait of The Laughing Cavalier is actually a portrayal of the Scarlet Pimpernel’s ancestor.

Review:
What a perfectly abysmal blurb that is. Egads.

The Laughing Cavalier, one of two prequels to The Scarlet Pimpernel, tells the story of a penniless foreign adventurer who passed down his exceptional qualities—such as “careless insouciance”—to his descendant, Sir Percy Blakeney, the hero of the more famous work. This fellow, a half-English rogue enjoying the life of a vagabond in The Netherlands, goes by the name of Diogenes and has for companions/minions two fellows calling themselves Pythagorus and Socrates. When Gilda Beresteyn, sister of one man and former love of another who together conspire to kill the current ruler, overhears of these plans, Diogenes and his men are hired to spirit her away so that the assassination atttempt may proceed without her interference.

What follows is essentially a lot of what one would expect. Diogenes’ swaggering merriment (and, indeed, I ought to have counted the number of times his countenance, eyes, or laugh are described as “merry,” because the total would easily be in the triple digits) and saucy attitude make him the perfect adventure hero, capable of deftly handling many abrupt reversals in his fortunes. Gilda is the feisty and sensible noblewoman who is indignant at her plight at first but eventually comes to see that her captor is far more honorable than he originally seemed. The would-be traitor, Stoutenburg, is reduced to impotent fury by Diogenes’ constant smirking and eventually has his plans ruined and loses Gilda, whom he had planned to eventually woo back to his side.

As a story, the plot is not very deep or complicated. It takes fully one quarter of the book to simply arrange the details of the caper, making one antsy for Gilda to just get abducted already! Once she is, most of the rest of the book is comprised of simply moving her from place to place. The conclusion is fairly predictable, too. That the two leads end up together is neither a surprise nor a spoiler—this is a story leading to eventual parentage, after all—but it’s still fun to read their banter, even though Gilda’s sudden realization of her feelings comes rather out of the blue. I could very easily picture their relationship unfolding on screen—perhaps because it’s not exactly a new idea. (The Princess Bride comes to mind.)

I also really enjoyed the setting. I don’t think I’ve ever read a book taking place in The Netherlands before, so all the snowy landscapes, misty windmills, and icy rivers fit for nocturnal journeys on ice skates offered something new and different, even if the story itself did not. Also, there were tons of nifty Dutch honorifics and swear words! If you ever want to insult a Dutchman, apparently all you need do is call him a “plepshurk.”

In the end, I enjoyed The Laughing Cavalier and will read the follow-up volume, The First Sir Percy, at some point in the near future.

This review has been crossposted to the Triple Take blog, where K and I did a “double take.” You can find her review here.

Astonishing X-Men 2: Dangerous by Joss Whedon and John Cassaday: B

From the back cover:
A tragic death at the Xavier Institute reveals a powerful enemy living among the X-Men that they could never have suspected—and no, it’s not Magneto.

Things heat up in a way none of the X-Men ever dreamed, but will teamwork save the day when they can’t even depend on themselves?

Review:
You know those episodes of Buffy where the supernatural threat is pretty dumb, and yet the episode is worth watching because of the amusing dialogue and the good character work going on? Well, the second arc of Joss Whedon’s Astonishing X-Men run is just like that.

In a nutshell, at some point in time, the Danger Room, used to train the X-Men by putting them through all manner of dangerous situations, became sentient, thanks to a contradiction in its programming that ordered it to kill the X-Men and yet stop short of killing them. Professor Xavier was aware of this development but ignored it, essentially keeping the sentient room trapped there to do his bidding. Now it’s gained enough control that it’s able to wreak some havoc, and eventually fashions itself a body to facilitate its revenge.

While I definitely appreciate the morally grey implications of Xavier’s actions (or inaction) and Peter’s response to same—Peter, aka Colossus, who has just been rescued from years spent as a prisoner/experiment himself—I just couldn’t get very interested in this scenario. Perhaps I wasn’t meant to, though: Joss is beginning to spin out a few plot threads that are obviously meant to continue for some time and possibly just needed to give his characters something to do in order to get those ideas across. Of chief importance is the question of where Emma Frost’s loyalties truly lie, since it’s heavily implied here that she’s feeding information to someone else. There’s also the issue of Agent Brand, who believes that the death of the X-Men is necessary to protect the planet from vengeful aliens, and who has an unknown mole on the inside at Xavier Academy.

On a more personal front, there’s also the awkwardness between Kitty and Peter to deal with, since she’s concerned that she has scared him off with her emotional response to his rescue. I love how Whedon shows Peter in battle against a monster while his thoughts distract him (“I am riding a monster’s nostrils. I really should concentrate.”), followed by Kitty in battle while her thoughts distract her (“Came on too strong…”), followed by Wolverine in battle, absolutely free of mental interference (“I really like beer.”).

Kitty continues to be a likeable character: she’s smart, capable, and determined to fight, even though her particular brand of abilities brands her as a noncombatant. John Cassaday’s character design for her is terrific, too, and must be commended for its consistency in a medium where lack of same seems the norm. She’s definitely pretty, but it’s a very normal sort of pretty. I do continue to hear a lot of Buffy in her dialogue, as in this exchange…

Emma Frost: (in response to Cyclops getting all commandy) I positively throb when he gets that tone.

Kitty: Your not saying that would be nifty.

…but it made me giggle, so I can’t really complain too much.

In the end, this arc has a relatively humdrum plot that nonetheless has an impact on character relationships and sows some seeds of distrust amongst the team. As Angel proved (most notably in season four), this will likely not end well.

Maiden Rose 1 by Fusanosuke Inariya: B

Taki Reizen and Claus von Wolfstadt should be enemies since their countries are at war. But a bond forged at school abroad leads Taki, a nobleman, to make Claus his knight, fighting by his side while Taki takes the role of division commander, marshalling his humble subjects as they seek to defend against the enemy’s advances. Many view Claus with suspicion, despite his apparent devotion to the commander, and are more apt to regard him as a “mad dog” and possible spy than as a trustworthy ally.

The two adjectives that best describe Maiden Rose are “promising” and “confusing.” For a boys’ love manga, this story is extremely complex, and features many character types and conflicts not traditionally seen in this genre. The character designs are also terrifically varied, from beautiful Taki to gruff Claus to the myriad middle-aged men who make up the rest of the division.

Confusing, though, is the exact nature of Taki and Claus’ (sexual) relationship. A flashback to their first encounter makes it clear that Taki wanted this, but now it seems like Taki is simply allowing himself to be violated by Claus after each battle. This makes for some disturbing scenes, but what’s good about Maiden Rose is that it doesn’t shirk from the consequences of Claus’ roughness. Too, Taki has enough depth as a character that one can read his passivity here as a desire to be punished for getting innocent people hurt; he’s commanding them because he must and it’s better than remaining ignorant while they die, but it’s definitely taking a toll on him.

So, yes, a very promising boys’ love manga indeed. It’s perhaps not for the faint of heart, but it’s definitely something different.

Review copy provided by the publisher. Review originally published at Manga Recon.

Claymore 1-2 by Norihigo Yago: B+

With the ability to take over human bodies and blend in with ordinary people, monsters known as yoma have a (relatively) easy time finding humans to feed upon. The only weapons humans have against them are the “Claymores,” humans who have taken yoma flesh and blood into their own bodies in order to gain the power to defeat the monsters. Only females are able to successfully adapt to this procedure, which also grants them silver eyes with the ability to distinguish yoma from humans. As part of an unnamed organization, they travel from village to village in response to requests for their services.

The first “Claymore”—the warriors do not refer to themselves this way; the name was bestowed by humans due to the huge swords these seemingly frail women carry—readers encounter is Clare, a skilled and clever Claymore who is used to being shunned and voluntarily forgotten by the very people she is working to protect. This changes when a villager boy, Raki, seeks her out as she’s leaving town and declares his heartfelt gratitude. Later, when the villagers have shunned Raki for his association with the yoma, Clare takes him on as her cook, seeing in him a past not unlike her own. They travel together, ferreting out a yoma within a holy city and dealing with a Claymore whose human heart has lost control to the monster within her.

As a Joss Whedon fan, it’s impossible to read about a young woman saddled with the inescapable and thankless task of killing monsters and not make comparisons to the mythology of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Clare does not share much in common with Buffy herself, who has a network of friends around her to keep her grounded in normality as much as possible, but more reminds me of the Buffy we see in the alternate universe episode, “The Wish.” This hardened Buffy has no time for conversation or for even seeing the people she’s trying to save. Get in, do it, and get out, just like Clare, who has a habit of announcing to empty streets, “My work is done. Someone will be sent to collect the money. You will give it to him then,” before resolutely moving on to the next assignment.

There’s also an element of Whedon’s short-lived Dollhouse here too, though, as the Claymores have voluntarily corrupted their bodies with monstrous parts designed to make them faster and stronger. Unlike the dolls, the Claymores have not forgotten the memories of their past lives, but they are able to keep tight control of their emotions and perform the task to which they’ve been assigned. There’s even an impersonal male “handler” to tell Clare where to go next. It’s through her association with Raki that more of Clare’s latent humanity begins to shine through, as he is able to interpret subtle differences in her frosty exterior as kindness or gentleness and she begins to really care about him, seeking assurance at one point that if she should die in the battle, Raki will be taken care of.

It’s a little disappointing that, after advancing all these intriguing ideas in its exposition, Claymore‘s first multi-chapter storyline relies chiefly on action to propel it along, but I guess ideas alone do not a shounen manga make: there has to be fighting sometime! And, in fact, there is a lot of stabbing and slicing here, including many memorable images of yoma heads being severed while whatever’s left of the human they’ve taken over sheds unheeded tears. I’m impressed with Yagi’s ability to render action sequences so clearly, and also absurdly interested in Clare’s equipment, which seems to have been designed with more practicality than a lot of “costumes” manga characters are saddled with.

In the end, Claymore is enjoyable as an action tale, but is already providing ample food for thought with the promise of more intriguing revelations to come. This series was recommended to me by MJ, and reviewed as part of the Shounen Sundays project. She has good taste.

Adolf 5: 1945 and All That Remains by Osamu Tezuka: B+

From the back cover:
As American B-29s mercilessly bombard the city of Kobe, childhood friends Adolf Kaufmann and Adolf Kamil are finally reunited. But their love for the same woman threatens to break the last tenuous thread of friendship between them.

While Hitler spends his final days in Berlin, far away in Japan, the fate of the documents revealing the secret of his heritage is sealed forever. Then, over a quarter of a century after D-Day, the two Adolfs cross paths again—this time in Israel—but the gulf between them has only widened with time. Will the once staunch childhood friends make peace with each other before it’s too late?

Review:
Against the backdrop of the final days of World War II, the suspenseful resolution of Adolf‘s various plots plays out. Adolf Kaufmann arrives in Japan to find that the very man he’s been sent to interrogate about treacherous documents is now married to his mother. What’s more, the Jewish girl he sent to safety in Japan is now engaged to his former best friend, Adolf Kamil. While American bombs terrorize the citizens of Kobe, Kaufmann destroys any last shred of sympathy we had for him as his convictions that Germany is always right transform into a maddened zeal to secure that which he believes he deserves, no matter what other people have to say about it.

The key word of my summary paragraph is “suspenseful,” because that’s chiefly what this volume is. There’s more emphasis on wrapping up the story than on the characters themselves and years pass in the blink of an eye, with the final scenes occurring in 1983. Increasing the scope in this way does, however, emphasize the difference between leaders and regular citizens. The terrified Japanese people had surrendered long before their government actually did, for example, while Kaufmann was unable to give up on the Nazi cause after Germany’s defeat. Those who had joined without qualm were the first to walk away, whereas he, who had struggled so hard to stifle his own beliefs and buy into the Jew-hating rhetoric, was left clinging to the Nazi ideals the most tightly. “I gave up everything for this,” he half-exults, half-laments, when he finally succeeds in locating the sought-after documents.

I do love that the documents, subject of so much pain and misery, finally come to light at a moment where they are utterly useless. So much effort has been expended on locating them and, in the end, they’re simply handed back to Toge because they’re not worth anything anymore. It was all futile and, in the end, I think Tezuka is making exactly that same point about war in general, and this war in particular.

I’d love to see Adolf reissued in a swanky new VIZ Signature format, perhaps split into two omnibus editions. It’s not hard to come by as it is, but it’s definitely an unforgettable manga that deserves to be back in print.

Cheeky Angel 19-20 by Hiroyuki Nishimori: B-

With these two volumes, Cheeky Angel comes to a close. Although it’s a bit rushed, the conclusion is ultimately fitting.

Warning: spoilers ahead.

Earlier in the series, the gang thwarted plans to marry Miki off to a slimy family associate by pretending that she and Genzo are in love. The rejected suitor, eager to solidify ties with Miki’s rich family, holds a grudge and captures the main cast, subjecting them to all sorts of high-stakes scenarios in an attempt to get them to turn on each other, but it never works. In the end, Miki winds up imprisoned in a tower, watching videos of the hardships her friends are enduring while they attempt to rescue her.

As a plot, this is highly ridiculous and not much different from the same sort of stories we’ve seen all along in this series. I had hoped for something new for the finale, but alas, that was not to be. Still, I like that this setup provides every character with a chance to be their best. Everyone—even traditionally weaker characters like average guy Ichiro and pervy Yasuda—makes a contribution to the effort to rescue Miki, and there are some really nice character moments. Favorites include Genzo’s absolute confidence that Meg would find a way to extricate herself from a prison cell in which she was briefly confined and Miki’s steadfast refusal to succumb to the bad guys’ attempts to make her feel bad that her friends are doing all this on her behalf.

After Miki is safe and life begins to return to normal, Meg shares a sweet smooch with Genzo (Ichiro: “Did he steal your lips?” Meg: “You really think I’d allow it? I stole his.”) and the spell is finally broken. Only two scant chapters deal with the question of Meg’s actual gender. I wish more time had been spent on this topic, but the way it’s presented does provide food for thought, at least.

It turns out that Meg, instead of wishing to be the manliest of men, was always a girl and wished to become a man. Her desire for this seems to be twofold. First, she believes that if she is a guy, that she’ll be able to protect Miki for as long as she is needed. Secondly, she wants to be able to be herself without being influenced by what girls are supposed to do and not do. And so, the genie makes her believe she was always a guy, and though her physical strength and determination are not actually changed, she feels more confident and is able to be herself without worrying so much about expectations. At least, that’s what I got out of it.

Aside from the unoriginal plot here at the end, my one real regret about the finale is that there are no hints at all that Miki and Hitomoji, a former Meg devotee who recently realized that Miki is the perfect girl for him, will ever become a couple. I don’t ask for a full-blown confession scene; a single panel depicting a self-conscious exchange of glances would’ve been enough to make me happy.

Cheeky Angel is not the best manga ever, but if you’re looking for some lighthearted, fanservice-free shounen with a capable heroine and a love interest who respects her competence, then look no further.

Happy Cafe 3 by Kou Matsuzuki: B

From the back cover:
Romance abounds as Uru’s life becomes entangled with all the men around her. A visit to the Takamura house by Shindo and Ichiro has Uru’s step-dad worried their lack of visible emotions may cause undue anxiety for his lovely daughter. But is that all he has to worry about? Later, a run-in with Uru has Sou Abekawa reevaluating his feelings for her, and things get complicated when Kenshi, the cousin with a crush on Uru, comes for a visit. How will Uru deal with all the mishaps coming her way?

Review:
After enjoying the laid-back comedy offered in the first volume of Happy Cafe, I was pretty disappointed when the second volume featured a rivalry between bakeries that had Uru on her most obnoxious behavior. Thankfully, the series’ third installment marks a return to the tone of the debut, with a variety of stand-alone episodes meant to show the sibling-esque bond between Uru and her two hot-but-strange coworkers.

The back cover would have one think that Uru is in a tizzy because of all these fellows with feelings for her, but honestly, she is completely oblivious. Sometimes a heroine’s cluelessness in such matters really annoys me, but with Uru, it’s more like her mind is simply completely on other things. It’s not that she wants these guys to like her and thinks that they don’t, it’s that she’s just not mentally in a place where romance is even a consideration. So, what we get is less a romantic comedy and more a series of vignettes in which Uru’s personality—and propensity to break out in sunny, heartfelt smiles—endears her to everyone around her.

That’s not to say there are no funny moments, though. My favorite is when step-dad is questioning Shindo and Uru, who live next door to one another. “Anything… unusually inappropriate going on?” he asks. “Such as neighbors getting intimate with other neighbors? Inappropriately?” I suspect some of what makes me giggle there has to do with the English adaptation, but it pleased me all the same.

I wasn’t really sold on Happy Cafe until this volume, but now I think I might have to see it through to the end simply because I like the characters and have found it in my heart to forgive them for brief interludes (volume two) during which they are annoying.

Review copy provided by the publisher.