Alice in the Country of Hearts 1 by QuinRose and Soumei Hoshino: B-

alicecountryhearts1From the back cover:
Wonderland is officially at war! And Alice is trapped in the middle of it all. Will she make it out alive? A little arrogant, stubborn, and determined to get back home, Alice isn’t fazed by these challenges… until she discovers that every man is gun crazy and weirdly in love with her. What’s going on in Wonderland?!

Review:
Based on a “female-oriented romance adventure game” developed in Japan by QuinRose, Alice in the Country of Hearts is a reimagining of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and features a girl named Alice (shokku!) who is forcibly whisked away down a hole by a white rabbit. He doesn’t stay a bunny for long, though, as he quickly transforms into a bishounen, declares that he loves Alice, introduces himself as Peter White, and forces her to drink a vial of medicine that commits her to playing “the game.” Justifiably, Alice thinks he’s a huge creep and runs off.

In quick succession, Alice meets a bevy of handsome fellows, the most important of which are Blood Dupre (a.k.a. the hatter), a mafia boss who looks just like her ex-boyfriend; somber Julius Monrey, a clock maker who offers some heavily edited explanations of what’s going on; and Nightmare, a dream demon who visits Alice in her sleep and provides the most useful information. All of the guys are inclined to love Alice and, indeed, seem to be prohibited from feeling love for anybody else. The world is divided into four areas and, aside from Julius’ neutral Clock Tower Plaza, everyone else is at war with each other and fond of engaging in shootouts without regard for public safety.

Alice is convinced that the whole world is a dream, but Nightmare tells her it’s not a world she created, but is instead a world she wished for. She’s quite dismayed to find she apparently wished for a world full of fairy tale castles and frilly clothes, but subtle references to her past suggest her ex-boyfriend fell for her more ladylike sister and that she is feeling lonely and unloved. Amorous declarations utterly fail to move her—she’s much more interested in the mysterious goings-on involving disappearing corpses and shadowy beings—but she can’t help being drawn to Blood, even though she knows he’s dangerous.

Because of Alice’s cleverness and strong personality—I love many of her lines, like “I didn’t realize I was so lame” and “I’m sick of your condescending crap! This place is freaking me out!”—Alice in the Country of Hearts is a lot better than it really has any right to be. The focus is much more on the mysteries of the world than romance, and a nicely ominous atmosphere is created, with several of the guys—and not necessarily the ones you’d suspect—concealing secrets from Alice.

On the downside, the narrative framework is clearly transplanted from a videogame. If Alice wants to return home, she must refill the medicine vial. And to refill the medicine vial, she must interact with the world’s inhabitants. This results in Alice walking back and forth between the four main areas in the world, encountering different hotties, witnessing bizarre happenings, and having to walk elsewhere to discuss what she just saw with someone. It feels exactly like playing an adventure game. Ask Julius about the creepy shadows? Yes/No

In the end, Alice exceeded my expectations but didn’t exactly knock my socks off. That said, I’m genuinely interested in reading the next volume, and I wasn’t expecting that outcome at all.

Alice in the Country of Hearts is published in English by TOKYOPOP. The series is ongoing in Japan, where four collected volumes have been released.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Stolen Hearts 1 by Miku Sakamoto: B+

stolenhearts1The basic plot of Stolen Hearts is summed up succinctly on its back cover: “a mismatched pair finds romance through a kimono shop.” Though the premise has some things in common with other shojo series—a significant difference in height between the two protagonists (Love*Com), a girl who attempts to familiarize her classmates with the finer qualities of her scary-looking love interest (Beast Master), and said unintentionally scary person experiencing the warmth of camaraderie for the first time (Kimi ni Todoke)—the particular quirks of the characters endow this series with a charm all its own.

When petite Shinobu Okuma (whose surname, we are reminded several times, means “big bear”) accidentally spills milk into a bag owned by her intimidating and brawny classmate Miharu Koguma (his surname means “bear cub”), Koguma tells her she can take responsibility for damaging the valuable kimono within by working off her debt at his grandmother’s kimono shop. Each day after school, they head to the shop and spend their afternoons together, dressed in kimonos and passing out flyers. Over time, Shinobu loses her fear of Koguma and realizes that he’s actually very sweet and kind, and even after he admits to tricking her (the kimono was actually worthless) and she falls victim to a lame kidnapping attempt from some thugs, she tells him in a forthright and angst-free fashion that she loves him, and the two become a couple.

Even though Shinobu doesn’t care that others might see them as an unbalanced couple, she’s still driven to clear up the misunderstanding that keeps her classmates tiptoeing around Koguma. “I want to show them his charms so badly, I can’t stand it,” she thinks at one point, and a perfect opportunity soon presents itself in the form of planning for the fall festival. Shinobu plays both sides here, giving Koguma pointers on how to be less frightening, and refusing to act as a go-between for classmates afraid to talk to him directly. Koguma also turns out to be surprisingly handy and, in the end, his popularity improves by leaps and bounds.

Things like kidnapping plots and school festivals seldom interest me, and I had originally anticipated awarding this volume a slightly lower grade because of it, but the charm of the characters combined with some terrific-looking kimonos (I especially loved the demonstration on donning a yukata!) moved me to be a little more generous. Koguma is bashful and easily flustered, lacking confidence but able to show his gentle charm with a little encouragement from Shinobu. I like him, but I like Shinobu even more; characteristics like determination and resourcefulness aren’t rare in shojo manga, but frequently manifest in an over-the-top fashion. Shinobu possesses these qualities, but in a more low-key way that feels a lot more real.

Miku Sakamoto’s art is attractive and looks much nicer inside than the cover would suggest. The high point, as mentioned, is the plethora of lovely kimonos, but I also find interesting the various ways the mangaka handles depicting Koguma and Okuma in the same panel, given their height difference. Sometimes Koguma kneels to be on eye-level with her, at one point the top of Okuma’s head is all that we see of her, and, in my favorite example, the bottom edge of the panel slopes diagonally across the page to reveal Okuma standing next to Koguma, whose dialogue bubble occupies the space above her head. Instead of resulting in awkwardness, the challenge has evidently encouraged innovation.

My one reservation going forward is whether the charm of the characters and the clothes will cease to be a reason to excuse some uninspired plotting. I’d rather see the leads explore their relationship than cycle through shojo’s greatest hits; if the next volume is all about Christmas and New Year’s, I’m going to be quite disappointed.

Stolen Hearts is published in English by CMX. The series is still ongoing in Japan. where four volumes are available so far.

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

The Dead and the Gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer: C+

deadandthegoneFrom the back cover:
When life as Alex Morales had known it changed forever, he was working behind the counter at Joey’s Pizza. He was worried about getting elected as senior class president and making the grades to land him in a good college. He never expected that an asteroid would hit the moon, knocking it closer in orbit to the earth and catastrophically altering the earth’s climate. He never expected to be fighting just to stay alive. And when Alex’s parents disappear in the aftermath of the tidal waves, he must care for his two younger sisters, even as Manhattan becomes a deadly wasteland.

Susan Beth Pfeffer’s Life As We Knew It enthralled and devastated readers with its look at an apocalyptic event from a small-town perspective. Now this harrowing companion book examines the same events as they unfold in New York City, revealed through the eyes of a seventeen-year-old Puerto Rican New Yorker.

With haunting themes of family, faith, personal change, and courage, this powerful novel explores how a young man takes on unimaginable responsibilities.

Review:
Seeing as how The Dead and the Gone is a companion book to Life As We Knew It, I expected that they’d have fundamentally the same plot. Apparently, I should’ve anticipated they’d have the same pitfalls, as well.

The story this time focuses on ambitious teenager Alex Morales, whose dreams of a bright academic future are cut short when an asteroid knocks the moon much closer to Earth, sending everyone into panic and claiming the lives of both of Alex’s parents. Forced to care for his two sisters, he does some awful things in order to survive and tries to make the best decisions he can, though sometimes ends up making mistakes. Faith is important to the Morales family, especially to super-pious Briana, who believes that her parents aren’t really dead but just stricken with amnesia from which they will miraculously recover someday.

One of the most annoying things about Life As We Knew It was its whiny protagonist and how she’d seem to improve, only to backslide. The same thing happens in this book with Alex’s younger sister, Julie, though eventually I realized Alex himself is a large part of the problem there. I’ve read three of Pfeffer’s books by now and have noticed that she tends to repeat things. This book is no exception, since a large part of it is taken up by variations on the following scene, repeated at least five or six times:

Alex: *accuses Julie of something*
Julie: I hate you! *runs off, slams door*
Alex: *goes in to talk to Julie and apologize*

After a while, I ended up sympathizing with Julie because Alex kept blaming everything on her! I was also irritated by the open-ended conclusion, predicted something waaaaaay in advance about Briana, and literally laughed out loud at the ridiculous fever dream Alex has while he’s sick with the flu.

That said, I do tend to like these apocalyptic YA books, so at least I enjoyed the basic plot even if the Morales family got on my nerves. I think I’ve learned by now, though, that Pfeffer’s books just aren’t my thing.

Sunshine Sketch 4 by Ume Aoki: C

sunshinesketch4I’m not a particular fan of moe, but Sunshine Sketch, a 4-koma series about a group of girls living in an apartment building across from the art high school they all attend, is actually better than I thought it would be.

It wasn’t a good sign when the character introduction page summed up each girl in three sentences, including facts like “She is always on a budget and hungry,” but the strips within seldom rely on these traits for punchlines, so it turned out not to be so bad. Instead, most of the chapters are about everyday things like failing an exam, greeting some new first years, or looking forward to trying a new dish at the cafeteria only to find it sold out. Nothing objectionable occurs and there aren’t any obviously pervy elements (aside from an exhibitionist teacher, the one character I actively disliked) to remind one that this series runs in a seinen magazine.

The main problem is that Sunshine Sketch is boring. Here’s the plot of one chapter for an example: Yuno fails her grammar exam and must take a make-up test. She studies. She passes. The end.

The best chapter in the volume is one in which the gang takes a trip to a home improvement store because one of the new first years wants some curtains. Mangaka Ume Aoki perfectly captures the feeling of vague creative inspiration that such places can induce. If only the whole volume had been the girls checking out doorknobs and dish towels, I probably would’ve liked it more.

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

La Satanica by Momoko Tenzen: B+

lasatanicaWhen Shoji Mashita spots his classmate Motoki Matsushima lovingly caressing his (Mashita’s) desk, he abruptly realizes that Matsuhima has feelings for him. He narrates that he’s okay with this, since he respects Matsushima as a friend, but he can’t resist tormenting him since his reactions are so violent. Eventually, Mashita realizes that he has feelings for Matsushima, too, and they share a pretty intense encounter in the boys’ bathroom until Matsushima suggests they adjourn to his home and Mashita suddenly gets cold feet.

Matsushima tries to figure out what he’s done wrong, and Mashita finally confesses that he’s afraid of the next step. From this point on, the boys become fairly obsessed with doing it. I prefer stories more about love than lust, myself, but the depiction of their awkwardness is well done and one really must appreciate that they take a whole chapter to really, really make sure that it’s what both of them want. “Are you only doing this for my sake? Are you positive about this?” “If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be.” That alone earns La Satanica major points in my book.

I’ve been impressed by Tenzen’s powers of characterization in her short stories, so it’s no surprise that they’re on even better display in this full-length story. Both characters are very endearing, to the point where it’s almost embarrassing to see them in bed together, and Tenzen’s expressive art makes the heartfelt confessions of their feelings and insecurities that much more sympathetic. The result is a BL manga that manages to be sweet and sexy simultaneously, which is no small feat.

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

Sand Land by Akira Toriyama: A-

sandlandFrom the back cover:
In the far future, war has destroyed the entire Earth, leaving only a barren wasteland where the supply of water is controlled by the greedy king. In search of a long-lost lake, sheriff Rao asked the king of the demons for help… and got the king’s son, Beelzebub, and his assistant, Thief. Together, the unlikely trio sets off across the desert, facing dragons, bandits, and the deadliest foe of all… the King’s Army itself! It’s travel adventure and tank action in this new story from Akira Toriyama, the creator of Dragon Ball Z!

Review:
After enjoying Toriyama’s COWA! so much last October, I decided to read more of his works. Sand Land, one of the first batch of titles to be serialized in the American Shonen Jump magazine, is another single-volume series about humans and demons working together on a quest, though this time it’s water they’re after and not medicine.

The follies of man and natural disasters have combined to reduce the habitable part of the world to one particular desert, with a further blow falling when the single river flowing through the land suddenly stopped. Some water is available—sold by the king for an exorbitant price—but many can’t afford it. One day, a war veteran named Sheriff Rao turns up at the village of the demons with a request. He has deduced, from the presence of a certain kind of bird, that there must be a lake to the south somewhere, but to cross the dangerous desert he’ll need demonic protection. The demon king (who appears for all of one page and is totally awesome) grants his assent and sends along his son, Beelzebub, who picks an older, knowledgable demon named Thief for the third member of their party.

The trio sets out in Rao’s car, but quickly encounters obstacles. When the car is rendered undrivable, Rao manages to steal a tank using nothing more than a can of hairspray, and they proceed on their way. The tank belongs to the king’s army and when they get wind of the theft, a chase ensues, during which Rao’s real identity is revealed, the chief general launches a smear campaign against him in the media, Rao retaliates with some unsavory secrets, and, ultimately, an extremely satisfying conclusion is reached.

Throughout all of this, Rao realizes that the demons have been sorely underestimated by humans and, in fact, are far more innocent of wrongdoing than humans are, themselves. Even though the basic plot is fun and extremely well paced, it really is this fledgling trust between races that is the best part of the story. Although it moves briskly and there’s not a lot of time for character development, there’s still enough for the story to resonate emotionally when it should.

Toriyama’s skill in paneling is extremely impressive; I always love it when reading manga feels like watching a movie. I did notice one disappointing and odd thing, though: one panel depicting an evil general is very obviously reused in a later chapter. Maybe there’s a good reason for it—could it have been VIZ’s doing?—but Toriyama did gripe at the outside about how hard the series (and especially the tank, which looks great) was to draw, so it seems possible this could’ve been a very random shortcut.

In any case, I really liked Sand Land a lot. It shares a lot of common elements with COWA!, but since I liked those elements, I really can’t complain about an overabundance of similarity.

Sand Land was published in English by VIZ and is complete in one volume.

Deadman Wonderland 1 by Jinsei Kataoka and Kazuma Kondou: B+

deadmanwonderland1From the back cover:
The Great Tokyo Earthquake. Ten years ago, it destroyed lives as it tore buildings asunder. Among those who lived through the disaster was Ganta Igarashi, now a middle school student finally getting a footing in his own life… that is, until the day the “Red Man” appears at his school and turns his world upside down again. Ganta’s entire class is brutally murdered, and although innocent of the crime, Ganta is sentenced to death and sent to the bizarre prison known as “Deadman Wonderland.” There, a brutal game of survival begins, where Ganta must discover the truth behind his classmates’ murder.

Can Ganta break out of Deadman Wonderland… or will it break him first?

Review:
The year is 2023. Ten years ago, the Great Tokyo Earthquake struck, leaving 70% of that city submerged by water. Ganta Igarashi used to live in Tokyo, but doesn’t remember anything prior to the evacuation. Now he attends middle school in Nagano, loves soccer, and has a couple good friends among his classmates. All of that changes on the day when “the red man”—a wonderfully creepy cyborg-looking fellow—arrives and murders all of Ganta’s classmates. In a rush to judgment, the authorities blame Ganta for the carnage and sentence him to death, at which point he’s shuffled off to Deadman Wonderland, the single privately owned prison in Japan, which doubles as a tourist attraction.

There, Ganta must learn to survive in the irrational environment or die. He’s fitted with a collar that is continually injecting him with poison—his death sentence—and the only way to delay it is to take a candy antidote every three days. To buy the candy, one must earn “cast points,” which are awarded for winning the various challenges put on for the benefit of the visiting public. When Ganta loses his first dose of the candy, he enters a deadly race with the hopes of using the prize money to procure another. Meanwhile, he meets a strange girl named Shiro who claims they knew each other before, gains some new super powers, and befriends his gentle-seeming cell mate who is hiding his true intentions.

There’s an awful lot going on in Deadman Wonderland, a fact made clear from the very start with a series of color pages depicting the moments right before the earthquake, but it all boils down to the fact that Ganta is likely not the normal kid he always thought he was. Sometimes I grow frustrated with stories that advance this many mysteries simultaneously, but it’s handled very well here, and the sense of a sure, guiding hand is palpable. I also really, really like “the red man,” who is not the only villain of the piece but merely the most visible. His character design is magnificent and menacing and you just know some crazy stuff is going to go down when he appears.

Ganta himself is also likable, as he rallies from his confusion and depression to fight for his life. I feel a little like one of the Deadman Wonderland patrons for enjoying watching him cope with some of the awful situations he faces, but he pulls through heroically enough that I can avoid feeling too bad.

This first volume of Deadman Wonderland does an excellent job introducing the reader to Ganta’s world and instilling a desire to read more about how he adjusts to his extreme circumstances. I also look forward to him learning more about some of the things at which the color pages hinted, like the truth of his early childhood and why, exactly, he’s been drawing a certain symbol on his possessions for years.

Deadman Wonderland is published in English by TOKYOPOP. The series is ongoing in Japan; seven collected volumes are currently available there.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Tegami Bachi: Letter Bee 2 by Hiroyuki Asada: C

tegamibachi2From the back cover:
Amberground is locked in darkness. A man-made star casts only a dim light over the land. The pitch-blade wilderness is infested with Gaichuu—colossal insects with metal exoskeletons. The Gaichuu make travel between the cities of Amberground extremely dangerous. But thankfully the Letter Bees, a brave corps of messengers, risk their lives in order to keep the hearts of Amberground connected.

Lag is close to becoming a Letter Bee! On the way to his final interview at the National Postal Service, he found a dingo: Niche, a feral young girl with shocking strength and hair made of golden swords. Now, as they approach the bridge to the middle-class district, they stop to rest in Kyrie, a desperado town. They meet Nelli, a friendly young man who shows them to an inn. Nelli’s so helpful that they never notice him steal Lag’s crossing pass!

Review:
Volume two of Tegami Bachi demonstrates what happens when a flawed but intriguing series picks the less interesting of the two characters introduced in its first chapter for a protagonist. Without Gauche Suede, the experienced letter carrier who inspired Lag Seeing to want to follow in his footsteps, the volume flounders for the first half as Lag and his “dingo,” Niche, make their way to his Letter Bee interview in Yuusari, a nicer part of Amberground than the area in which Lag grew up.

A lot of the problem here is Niche, an acutely uncivilized girl with hair that can turn into swords, and her antics. She apparently views her pledge to wear underwear as a symbol of her contract with Lag, so when he suggests she might be safer staying with his aunt than being his dingo, she ditches her bloomers and then nags him for dozens of pages to accept her as his dingo again. This is incredibly annoying. Also, she seems to have acquired a pet/emergency food source (think Menchi in Excel Saga) called Steak, who is a source for some regrettable pee and fart gags.

Once Lag makes it to his interview, though, things start looking up. The European-inspired architecture in Yuusari makes for some lovely backgrounds, and the other/older Letter Bees are pretty cool. Lag also does extremely well on his letter-delivery test, almost as well as Gauche, about whom he learns some surprising information.

Some of these merits are also flaws, however, since practically everything is more interesting than Lag and Niche, and looks better, too. I’d much rather read a story starring Largo Lloyd, the director of “The Beehive,” for example, and the only thing that inclines me to read the third volume is that we might learn more about Gauche. About the main duo I care practically nothing. It’s almost as if Asada wants to make his story more sophisticated, but is shackled by some Shonen Jump mandate concerning adolescent humor. Whatever the case, I’m going to give this series one more chance to win me over, but I’m not feeling too optimistic.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Two Fables by Roald Dahl: B

Two_fables_coverFrom the front flap:
Roald Dahl is recognized as a master in two quite different fields: the short story and the novel for children. In these two new fables, Dahl has once again written startlingly original stories that, while owing something to the clarity and verve of his writing for children, are firmly intended for adults. In “The Princess and the Poacher,” the beastially ugly Hengist is granted a dark wish, but cannot bring himself to fulfill it. In “Princess Mammalia,” Mammalia is driven to attempt murder when her beauty dazzles every man in the kingdom except the one who has what she truly wants.

Deftly told, these pared-down tales explore the intertwinings of love and power, beauty and desire.

Review:
Two Fables contains two odd short stories that share some common themes and some bizarre, Rorschach-y illustrations by Graham Dean.

In “The Princess and the Poacher,” Hengist, an unfortunately ugly young man, is quite naturally interested in maidens fair but, as Dahl aptly puts it, “no maidens, fair or otherwise, were interested in Hengist.” In an attempt to distract himself from the ladies he can’t have, he takes to solitary walks in the woods and discovers a talent for stealth that ultimately leads to a life of crime as a poacher. One day, seeking a challenge, he ventures into the king’s woods and ends up saving the princess from being gored by a boar.

In gratitude, the king makes a proclamation that Hengist is free to ravish any female in the land. But now that all women are powerless to resist him, Hengist suddenly finds that he doesn’t want any of them. Alone of all the males in the court, he treats the princess courteously and, in the end, wins her love, which was the king’s plan all along. I don’t really get why the king wanted his daughter to marry a poor, uneducated commoner like Hengist, since Dahl never spells it out, but perhaps it’s a political maneuver to avoid having a scheming son-in-law in his household. This seems likely, given the outcome of the second tale.

In “Princess Mammalia,” the titular princess awakes on the morning of her seventeenth birthday to discover she has become a dazzling beauty. She promptly begins exercising her power over men, growing contemptuous of their obedience. Like Hengist, once members of the opposite sex become powerless to resist her, Mammalia loses interest. Tiring of humiliating her admirers, she soon sets her sights on usurping her father’s throne, but the king, like his peer in the first story, is a clever fellow and devises a way to test his daughter’s loyalty. This story’s a little more concise than the first, with a more definite ending, so I liked it a bit better for that.

In the end, this is an extremely quick read that, as the flap promises, delivers an intriguing hybrid of Dahl’s fairy tale style and more adult subject matter. I’d never read anything by Dahl intended for a grown-up audience before, and it was an interesting experience. Like any fable ought, these stories also deliver a clear (though sexually tinged) moral: irresistibility (whether mandated by law or achieved through beauty) is seldom as enjoyable as daydreams might suggest.

All My Darling Daughters by Fumi Yoshinaga: A

allmydarling“A mother is an imperfect woman.”

So thinks Yukiko Kisaragi, the central hub around which the collection of stories in All My Darling Daughters revolves. As the story begins, Yukiko’s mother, Mari, has just undergone a successful cancer operation and decides that, from now on, she’s going to live her life the way she wants. To Yukiko’s dismay, this involves getting remarried to an aspiring actor and much younger man, Ken Ohashi, whom she met at a host club. At first, Yukiko is convinced it’s a con, and maintains a guarded demeanor around Ohashi, but once he proves his love for Mari really is genuine, she breaks down. “She’s always belonged entirely to me,” she sobs.

From there, stories focus on those Yukiko knows. The second chapter is about a strange student named Maiko who forces herself on Izumi, a lecturer friend of Ohashi’s; the third features Sayako, a pretty friend of Yukiko who has decided to investigate arranged marriage; the fourth is about middle school friends of Yukiko and how their career plans went awry; and the final chapter focuses on Yukiko’s grandmother and her relationship with Mari. Meanwhile, we catch glimpses of how Yukiko’s life is evolving through a series of revelations about what has occurred “off-camera.”

At first I had a hard time understanding how some of these stories related to each other. Sayako’s story, for example, is incredibly touching and sad, but her mother does not play much of a role. The story of the forceful student seemed entirely out of place. But then the common thread hit me: this book is not just about mothers and daughters. It’s about the relationship between any caregiver and a child, and how something that might seem inconsequential to one could affect the other for the rest of their lives.

Sayako is crippled in love because her well-meaning grandfather told her, “You mustn’t discriminate among people.” Maiko has a warped view of relationships because someone indoctrinated her with a servile disposition—even though Izumi repeatedly says, “Who told you that?” it’s a perception she is unable and even unwilling to shake. Yukiko’s middle school friend is unable to fulfill her lofty goal of being a trailblazer for women in the workplace because an abusive father forces her to leave home early and quit school. Even Mari’s not immune, since her mother’s denigrating comments (made with good intentions, we later learn) about her appearance gave her a lifetime complex about her looks.

By the end of the volume, it’s apparent that Yukiko really is living a charmed life. Mari may be an imperfect mother, but she’s honest about her foibles and the two share an incredible relationship. Yukiko even achieves a sense of peace about her new step-dad, realizing “this strange boy is necessary for my mom.” Yukiko’s husband, Jun, is sweet yet equally imperfect, and a casual remark near the end of the volume reveals they’ve made headway in conquering a problem of equality in their marriage. Career-wise, Yukiko is the most successful of her group of middle school friends, prompting former chum Saeki to think, “At least one of us fulfilled her modest dreams.” And who is it whose fierce yet loving care enabled Yukiko’s life to turn out so well? I’ll give you one guess.

In addition to all of this thoughtful, integrated writing, Yoshinaga also employs her distinctive artistic style in the service of the story. True, the bulk of the panels contain talking heads in white space, but sometimes these headshots are exactly what one needs to get the point across. The most effective example of this occurs in the third chapter, when a two-page spread of close-ups is used to convey how Sayako and a prospective husband, Mr. Fuwa, have instantly achieved a content companionship. And if you don’t get sniffly when this technique is used again in the final two pages, you might just be a robot.

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