Sarasah 1 by Ryu Ryang: C

sarasah1Ji-Hae Namgung has harbored an obsessive crush on her classmate, Seung-Hyu, for over a year and a half. Because her “love” hasn’t faded in all this time, she believes it’s more substantial than most and won’t give up her attempts to win Seung-Hyu’s heart, despite the fact that he has repeatedly and emphatically rejected her. As she chases after him after his latest refusal, she ends up accidentally tumbling down a staircase and awakens in the world beyond, where Lady Gameunjang, the God who controls the flow of human life, is touched by Ji-Hae’s plight. It’s not Ji-Hae’s time to die, but she can’t bear returning to a world in which Seung-Hyu hates her, so instead, Lady Gameunjang sends her into a past life, where can rectify the wrong that causes him to hate her in the present.

Once in the past, Ji-Hae doesn’t seem to consider trying to fit in at all, and instead shocks her former self’s family by lopping off her hair, speaking informally, and going off dressed as a boy to search for Seung-Hyu. When she finds his past equivalent, called Ja-Yun, she rattles off a series of lies to convince him to let her stay with his family and later accompanies him to a political meeting attended by a man who will one day be an important king in Korea’s history.

I can put up with a lot of flaws in manga. I am capable of liking something when it’s silly, when it’s implausible, or when it has little merit aside from its ability to infect you with the compulsion to know what happens next. But what I cannot abide is an unlikable protagonist, and unfortunately, that is exactly what Ji-Hae is. When she describes what she loves about Seung-Hyu, it’s a catalog of physical attributes. When she springs her latest (public) declaration of love upon him, it includes a note that reads, “You are mine. You can’t get away.” And when she gets to the afterlife, she has the audacity to wail, “What have I done to deserve this pain?” Um, been a completely deluded psycho stalker, perhaps?

Because of Ji-Hae’s abominable behavior, one might assume I’d feel sympathy for Seung-Hyu, but I’m thwarted there as well, since he’s got about as much personality as a cardboard cutout. Granted, as Ja-Yun, he seems to possess at least a small quantity of kindness—or else mere common decency requires him to house the disguised Ji-Hae after she tells her hard-luck tale of orphaned woe—but is otherwise just as stony as before.

About the only thing working for this title is the setting, which allows Ryang to draw some nice period costumes and work in some political elements while eschewing a strictly realistic portrayal of living conditions during the time in question. In general, the art’s attractive (especially the color pages in the front of the book), featuring an everygirl sort of heroine and ample bishounen eye candy.

Sarasah is also a quick read, which tempts me to give it at least one more volume to see whether anything resembling a real and honest relationship between Ji-Hae and Ja-Yun begins to develop. If Ryu Ryang takes the bildungsroman approach, that’s something I might be able to get behind.

Sarasah is published by Yen Press. Only one volume is currently available—volume two is due in November—and the series is ongoing in Korea, with six volumes so far.

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

High School Debut 11 by Kazune Kawahara: B+

hsd11From the back cover:
Haruna becomes worried when she sees Yoh hanging out with an unattractive classmate. (Yoh does seem to have strange taste in women, after all…) She has good reason for feeling uneasy—it looks like this girl really does want to sabotage their relationship!

Review:
The main reason I love High School Debut is that it skewers some of the typical shojo clichés—the reappearance of an old girlfriend, for instance—by simply having its leads communicate with each other. Volume eleven, alas, is a disappointment in that regard.

It begins when Haruna spots Yoh smiling (a pretty rare occurrence) at his cram school classmate and finds this so painful that her heart is sick. Her mood is buoyed when Yoh asks her on a date, but he fails to show when said classmate, Miyabi, appears to collapse from heat stroke. Of course Yoh is not the type of guy who’d ignore someone in that plight, but he’s left his cell phone at home and can’t call Haruna, leaving her waiting for hours. Later, when he calls to explain what happened, Haruna is torn. She wouldn’t like Yoh if he weren’t the type of guy to be kind to someone in need, but insecurity and jealousy flare up again when she imagines him caring for Miyabi so attentively, and she hangs up on him. I actually love all of this bit, because I can utterly sympathize with Haruna’s reaction, how when you love someone you want to keep him all to yourself.

The part I don’t like comes in when Miyabi begins scheming and fiddles with Yoh’s phone so it blocks Haruna’s calls, sends a break up text, and redirects the contact for Haruna to point to her own phone. AND YOH BUYS IT! He talks to her a couple times and doesn’t realize she’s not Haruna! So, on top of the frustration of our main couple not being able to exert their excellent communication skills to resolve things, has apparently become unable to discern his girlfriend’s voice from that of a relative stranger. Granted, he begins to have his doubts pretty quickly, but it’s annoying all the same. Haruna’s annoying, too, since she evidently believes that Yoh is capable of breaking up with her over a text message, which he is not. At least the resolution to this is rather sweet.

The final chapter sees everyone back at school and Haruna trying to think of something special to do for Yoh’s birthday. Someone at work suggests an overnight trip, and she innocently runs with the idea, seeing it only as an opportunity to go somewhere new. Asami finally clues her in to the implications of an overnight trip and, instead of talking to Yoh about it, Haruna reads some of her brother’s magazines about guys and their attitudes towards sex, purchases some frilly lingerie, and tries to psych herself up to do it with Yoh so he won’t stop liking her. Argh! I dunno, I guess this cluelessness and searching for answers in dodgy print sources is perfectly in character for Haruna, but it’s never bugged me like this before. Perhaps it’s because it comes on the heels of the previous chapter.

In any case, despite the irksome elements in this volume, High School Debut has so much warmth and charm that my overall impression is not diminished. In fact, I’m sad there are only two volumes left!

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Patience & Sarah by Isabel Miller: B-

9780449210079From the back cover:
Early in the nineteenth century, in a puritanical New England town, two women did something unspeakable, something unheard of—they fell in love with each other. With nothing and no one to guide or support them, Patience and Sarah tried to follow their hearts.

And when family pressures separated them, the two women dreamed of leaving their homes, of being together. Defying society and history, they bought a farm and discovered they could live together, away from a world that had put limits on them and their love.

Review:
Patience White has been provided for. Her father’s will made certain that there would always be a place for her in her devout brother’s Connecticut home, but that isn’t enough to make Patience happy. She doesn’t want the things that a woman of her age (late twenties) should want, and though she helps out around the house, Edward’s wife, Martha, makes her feel guilty for desiring privacy to work on her paintings. When she meets Sarah Dowling, conscripted to serve as “Pa’s boy” in the absence of any male siblings and entirely unaware that her manners shock more proper folk, she is immediately intrigued.

Kisses soon ensue, followed by Sarah’s inability to realize that some things should be kept secret, a journey in boy’s clothes, vague yet plentiful sex scenes, manipulation by Patience to get Sarah to agree to come away with her, familial discovery, further journeying, and finally settling into farm life in New York. The narrative alternates between perspectives with occasionally amusing results (I enjoyed their differing accounts of their final parting with Edward) but with much repetition, since each woman experiences periods of insecurity as well as triumph in the knowledge that she can leave the other wanting her. One strange side effect was that although I disliked Sarah at the beginning of the novel, due to her remarkable lack of common sense, by the end I thought she was by far the better (and more genuine) of the two, since Patience could be deceitful in her quest to get her way.

I had expected, owing largely to the rhapsodies experienced by the leads in Annie on My Mind as they read and reread this book, that Patience & Sarah would be at least a little romantic, but really, it is not. Instead, I’d describe it as carnal. When I say that “kisses soon ensue,” I mean really soon, and with little preamble as to why these women are drawn to each other. Suddenly, it’s just instant passion. There are some parts of the novel that I liked—slice-of-life passages about chopping wood and sewing curtains, card games they play with Sarah’s mother, or the stray dog that promptly adopts them when they get to their new home—but I couldn’t care much about the characters or their relationship. Plus, all the parts that I liked are sullied by the ending, in which Patience declares that now that they have their own place they will “make the bed gallop,” which makes it seem that everything they’ve done has been with coital goals in mind.

Another thing I noticed is that nearly everyone else in the novel is made to desire the protagonists. Sarah’s sister offers to do for her whatever Patience does (eww), it’s suspected that Edward likes to imagine the two of them together, Sarah’s traveling companion tries to put the moves on her (granted, he thinks she’s a boy at the time), and one of Martha’s main objections to the relationship is that Patience is fooling around with someone “outside of the family.” I’m not sure what to make of this, honestly. With Edward and Martha it could be a case of pointing out their hypocrisy, but what of the others?

In the end, Patience & Sarah was not what I’d expected it to be. If this had been a straight romance, I might not even have finished it.

Additional reviews of Patience & Sarah can be found at Triple Take.

Phantom Dream 3 by Natsuki Takaya: B

phantomdream3Once upon a time, a thousand years ago, there was a beautiful woman named Suigekka who used her magical abilities to help the people of Japan. The people feared and misunderstood her, however, and killed her after blaming her for the drought that had descended upon the land. A magician who loved her, Hira, went insane after Suigekka’s death and vowed revenge on humanity. He began to turn them into jaki, beings controlled by their negative feelings, while his younger brother, Saga, sought to protect people and undo their transformations. Fastforward into the present, where that inherited conflict is still going on. Tamaki Otoya, a descendant from Saga’s line, is the current shugoshi, or one tasked with exorcising jaki. Hira has reawakened, thanks to the reincarnation of Suigekka, and his quest for revenge continues. Tamaki must stop him, but personal feelings are making him hesitate.

While I originally found Phantom Dream to be confusing, it has really shaped up in the last couple of volumes, and now seems to’ve achieved a good balance between plot progression and character development. Events still tend to happen quickly, but motivations are clearer and moments of sacrifice carry more weight. Protagonist Tamaki has become a more sympathetic character, and I also quite like the story of Eiji, once his opposite number among Hira’s ranks, who defects to Tamaki’s side after learning Hira’s real reasons for creating jaki.

Also assisting to clear up the confusion is the desperately-needed glossary that makes its first appearance in this volume. Unfortunately, the “Story So Far” section includes a big spoiler that, while strongly inferred in volume two, is not confirmed until the early chapters of this volume. One might wish to steer clear.

All in all, Phantom Dream is not bad and is, in my estimation, superior to Takaya’s later work, Tsubasa: Those With Wings.

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

Phantom Dream 2 by Natsuki Takaya: B-

phantomdream2From the back cover:
Tamaki Otoya is the last in a line of ancient summoners tasked to battle evil forces that threaten mankind. But when the rival Gekka family return to collect the demon sword Tamaki’s family stole centuries ago, a devastating secret is revealed! Tamaki is left in such a state of shock that he doesn’t even notice his beloved Asahi slipping away to the Gekka mansion…

Review:
I was pretty underwhelmed by the first volume in this series, finding it to be confusing and more interesting as a measure of Natsuki Takaya’s progression as a storyteller than for its own merits. Volume two is a big improvement, however; though the confusing elements persist, a potentially compelling story is beginning to take shape.

In this volume, more details about the feud between the members of the Gekka family, who use negative emotions to turn people into jaki, and the Otoya family, who are tasked with exorcising those people, are revealed. The current representatives of the families, Eiji and Tamaki, seem to bond a little over their shared burdens, but also engage in combat, as well. Some members of a branch family come to support Tamaki, leading to revelations about the reasons why more of the family is not rallying behind him. Asahi seems to feel a strange connection with a sword belonging to the Gekka family, which the Otoya family has sacrificed much to protect, but Eiji ends up in possession of the weapon after his cat demon minion manages to infiltrate the shields on the Otoya temple in an unexpected way.

That summary is distilled from a couple hundred pages of random and rapid plot developments, which brings up the biggest problem I have with Phantom Dream: major events happen too quickly, giving the progression of the story a rather slapdash feel. It’s possible that Takaya-sensei has meticulously planned out each new development, but they rush by without giving the reader enough time to appreciate what has happened. In the first volume, for example, I completely missed that a butterfly-loving boy whom Tamaki exorcised had volunteered to become a kind of reconnaissance spirit in Tamaki’s employ. This time, we’re barely given time to digest some news about Tamaki’s parentage before the sword is stolen, Tamaki’s mother dies, and Asahi goes missing, apparently on the verge of betraying Tamaki and awakening the Gekka king from his slumber.

Through the blur of these events, however, one is occasionally afforded a glimpse of what the story could’ve been if more time were devoted to allowing the main characters some reaction time. Tamaki and Eiji don’t seem to really hate each other; instead, they are bound by destiny and familial expectations to continue a pointless feud that’s been going on for a thousand years. Eiji, at times, doesn’t seem to want to do what he’s doing—and even seems to cherish some feelings of love for Tamaki—but does them nonetheless, causing Tamaki to have to fight him. I wish this element of the story had been played up a lot more, rather than the emphasis being on the secrets of Tamaki’s parentage.

Still, even with all of these problems, I find that I do like Phantom Dream, and substantially more than I like Tsubasa: Those With Wings. For all its speed, it’s still by far the more focused work, with a driving narrative that isn’t sidetracked by forays into “comedy.” It’s also more clearly the precursor to Fruits Basket, with a heroine whose sunny outlook proves of invaluable aid to the hero and even manages to get through to the ostensible villain of the piece.

Dining Bar Akira by Tomoko Yamashita: A

diningbar12532-year-old Akira Koji doesn’t know how to handle it when Torihara Yasuyuki, a coworker six years his junior, says, “You know… I have feelings for you.” He has always considered himself to be straight and ultimately decides not to take the confession seriously. Still, he can’t help being a bit curious. As he and Torihara continue to interact at work, bickering a good bit yet dancing closer to each other, he becomes more and more intrigued. Eventually, the two begin dating but insecurities rear their heads when it’s time to think about taking their relationship to the next level.

The basic plot of Dining Bar Akira isn’t anything new, but what Tomoko Yamashita does with the characters is fascinating. Both Akira and Torihara are grown, experienced men and have learned over the years to erect defenses in order to keep from being hurt. Even after they begin dating, they must work to earn each other’s trust. Akira, for example, swears that he does have feelings for Torihara, but the idea of being physically intimate frightens him, like if he makes such a life change at age 32, there’ll be no turning back. Torihara, meanwhile, has a habitually negative outlook that makes it hard for him to believe Akira’s not merely with him out of sympathy; he needs tangible proof. To avoid responsibility, Akira unconsciously attempts to rile Torihara enough that he’ll take the decision out of his hands, but both know it would mean nothing unless it’s a step he chooses to take himself.

I love it when the obstacles a couple faces come from within and Dining Bar Akira pulls this off admirably. Like the best boys’ love manga, it focuses on the universality of its characters’ situation—the struggle of two people who like each other to achieve true intimacy. That they both happen to be sexy, professional men is completely beside the point. In this way, it reminds me of Future Lovers. (Other similarities include its sense of humor and the way the more cynical member of the pair has trouble shaking the worry that he’s robbed his optimistic partner of the security that comes with traditional married life.)

If Dining Bar Akira has a flaw, it’s that it seems to end too abruptly, but I’m not convinced that this truly is cause for complaint. In the final chapter, Torihara and Akira have developed a daily routine, but the days are slipping by so peacefully that Torihara worries the relationship will one day just naturally dissolve. There’s no real resolution to that situation, which is a little frustrating from a reader’s point of view—I, at least, tend to appreciate neat and tidy endings—but isn’t that more realistic? After such a complicated depiction of two people wrestling with feelings of fear and love, wouldn’t it cheapen the story to cap it off with a trite happy ever after? A similar tactic is employed with “Foggy Scene,” one of a pair of short bonus stories that round out the volume.

Yamashita’s art reminds me of est em, and those familiar with the latter’s work will recognize that for the compliment it is. There’s an elegant, expressive feel to her drawings that spills over into the story itself; Dining Bar Akira is positively bereft of any artistic clichés one might expect to encounter in boys’ love manga. Both leads look like adult men, and supporting characters (in the form of fellow coworkers) tend to be the same, with some approaching middle age.

I was unfamiliar with Tomoko Yamashita’s manga before this, and I’m sure many would say the same. With work of this quality, though, I hope that won’t remain the case for too much longer.

Dining Bar Akira is currently available only at NETCOMICS.com, but a print edition will be available soon. Another Tomoko Yamashita title, Black-Winged Love, is due later this year. I’ll definitely be checking it out.

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

Goong: The Royal Palace 6 by Park SoHee: A-

goong6From the back cover:
Hoping to clear the air between Shin and Chae-Kyung, the ladies of the court pressure the young couple to get more intimate. But even a night together may not be enough to push the two close. Amid lingering suspicious of Shin’s involvement with Hyo-Rin, Yul takes the offensive in claiming not only his right to the throne, but to Chae-Kyung’s heart as well… Will her commitment to her husband and her duty as crown princess prevail?

Review:
In this volume, Shin and Chae-Kyung are forced to spend a night alone together by order of the queen mother, who buys into the theory that Chae-Kyung’s recent poor health is caused by problems in her relationship with Shin, and that by forcing them to consummate their marriage, those problems will immediately evaporate. Alas, things do not go as planned. Later developments include Yul admitting his feelings to Chae-Kyung, an attempt to gain more political power for the royal family, a subplot involving the girl Shin used to like, and the news that Chae-Kyung’s grandfather has cancer.

It’s really impossible to convey the awesomeness of Goong through a mere plot summary, because so much of the story is carried by the characters rather than the events. The night Shin and Chae-Kyung spend together is a fascinating example. When they’re first locked up together, Shin asks, “Are you scared? Do you think I’ll attack you?” Chae-Kyung, however, is more worried that she might attack him! Shin abruptly kills any mood that might’ve been brewing, though, when he says, “A man can sleep with a girl whom he doesn’t really like.” Readers can see that he’s developing feelings for her and just trying to protect himself by feigning detachment, but Chae-Kyung can’t. When he’s later moved by her eyes, which speak so honestly of her feelings for him, and tries to kiss her, she slaps him. Shin, of course, has no idea what he did wrong.

What a complicated and complex relationship! This is the sort of situation that two people, no matter how attracted they are to each other, would probably just give up on after failing time and again to truly connect. Shin and Chae-Kyung don’t have this option, however, and continue the pattern of hurting each other. Their struggle is both captivating and frustrating; it’s going to be so vastly rewarding once they finally work things out.

Shin’s insecurities and ignorance of a loving family come into play in the latter half of the volume, when he refuses to allow Chae-Kyung to visit her ailing grandfather. The excuse he gives is that she has duties to attend to, but he’s really worried that she’ll want to stay with her family rather than return to the miseries of palace life. Yul uses this situation to try to get on Chae-Kyung’s good side—suggesting that she get her marriage with Shin annulled and marry him instead since Shin’s dysfunctional upbringing makes him treat her badly—but only succeeds in strengthening her sympathies for Shin. The final scene suggests that Yul’s meddling might backfire on him even further, to which I say, in Nelson’s voice from The Simpsons, “Ha ha!”

An awful lot goes on in a single volume of Goong and all of it is wonderfully balanced and exciting to read. About the only flaw I could mention is that the unattractive artwork during comedic moments still persists. Because of this, I’ve never been able to award any volume a straight-out A, much as I have wanted to, because the random bits of ugly pull me out of the story. They don’t appear to be going anywhere, alas, so it looks like I’ll just have to resign myself to their presence.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Little Fluffy Gigolo PELU 1 by Junko Mizuno: B+

pelu1I reviewed this strange, cute, and sad manga for Comics Should Be Good. It’s the story of a fluffy little alien who comes to earth to find a bride. It’s very weird, but the absurdity is of a sort that appeals to me.

You can find that review here.

Little Fluffy Gigolo PELU is published in English by Last Gasp and the first volume is available now. It looks like the series is complete in Japan with a total of three volumes.

Review copy provided by the publisher.

Boys Over Flowers 36 by Yoko Kamio: B

boysoverflowers36After 36 dramatastic volumes, Boys Over Flowers has finally come to an end. It’s just too bad it didn’t happen sooner. The end of volume 31 would’ve been a good place, for example, with Tsukushi and Tsukasa finally realizing that their love is what’s most important in their lives. Instead, after Tsukasa recovers from a rather lame bout of amnesia, he announces that, due to his father’s sudden illness, he is taking off for New York after graduation and won’t be back for four years.

Although some very nice moments between the main couple result, like a night spent alone together and some endearingly misspelled skywriting, on the whole this volume is a disappointment on that front. With Tsukasa’s departure looming and Tsukushi forced to deal with her wacky family, they spend too much of this final volume apart for it to truly feel satisfying. Also, while I don’t really mind checking in on some of the secondary characters introduced throughout the series, I begrudge them the pages that could’ve been spent on the protagonists.

On the positive side, the volume provides some unexpectedly touching moments with Tsukushi and the rest of the F4, who are graduating, too. Instead of taking dates to the prom, they’ve decided that the last girl they want to dance with in high school is Tsukushi and we get a little farewell moment with each of them. Also, a bonus story about Akira, the least developed member of the F4, proves to be surprisingly entertaining.

Boys Over Flowers might end with a whimper rather than a bang, but don’t take that to mean that it isn’t ultimately well worth reading.

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

Boys Over Flowers 29-35 by Yoko Kamio: B

These seven volumes leading up to the conclusion of Boys Over Flowers, which now has the distinction of being the longest shoujo series I’ve read, feature some pretty drastic reversals of fortune. Through spontaneous trips to New York City, love confessions from unexpected sources, kidnappings, deserted islands, stabbings, and amnesia, Tsukushi and Tsukasa endure a whirlwind of on again, off again romance that can leave the reader rather dizzy.

Because it’s better simply to go with the shoujo flow than try to reconstruct a linear account of what happens, I’m going to forgo any attempt at a comprehensive summary and instead write a little bit about each volume individually.

Volume 29: B
boysoverflowers29Tsukasa is convinced that he can make his mother understand his feelings for Tsukushi. The two of them have a very sweet date, one of their first that’s uniformly happy, with visits to pet stores and attendance at a baseball game. Alas, this game is the scene for a record-breaking home run for an American player, and Tsukushi’s catch of the ball ends up televised in New York, where Tsukasa’s mother happens to see it. She yanks Tsukasa back to New York, and Tsukushi pluckily follows.

After a couple of dumb chapters wherein Tsukushi just happens to run into someone she knows, things pick up again when she finally gets to see Tsukuasa. He coldly tells Tsukushi to go home and that he’s staying in New York of his own volition. She is stunned, but then sweet Rui arrives to lend her his support.

Volume 30: B+
boysoverflowers30Rui reveals that he is in love with Tsukushi. Although they don’t really work as a couple—the one date they had in the past was pretty awkward—I still see why they’d be drawn together. There’s a certain aura that Rui exudes, a strong, wistful kind of pull, that produces romantic angst of such a wonderful quality that it quite literally makes my heart ache a little. Even better is that this time, Tsukushi’s feelings for Tsukasa don’t waver in the slightest.

On the annoying side of things, Tsukushi just accepts Tsukasa’s cold dismissal and is on the verge of returning to Japan, when Kaede turns up at the airport and gives her one wish (in return for helping save a business deal). Tsukushi wishes for Tsukasa to keep his promise to have a hot pot dinner with her. A few days later, Tsukasa returns to Japan to spend just one day with Tsukushi, and it’s wonderfully sad and they’re about to have a tearful goodbye when suddenly some thugs with tasers arrive and kidnap them.

Volume 31: B
boysoverflowers31Tsukushi and Tsukasa awake to find themselves on a ship set on auto-pilot. When they arrive at a deserted island, Tsukasa proves himself surprisingly reliable by catching some dinner and, as they explore their surroundings, he reveals why he sent her away in New York and Tsukushi finds the courage to declare that she never wants to be separated from him again. Predictably, it turns out that their friends were behind the kidnapping, but neither Tsukushi nor Tsukasa is mad, since Tsukushi feels the experience has taught her what’s really important to her and Tsukasa decides that he’s going to leave his family.

Alas, Tsukasa’s sudden disappearance has hit the news. There’s a media frenzy upon his return and, in the commotion, he ends up getting stabbed by a guy with a grudge against his family. “Why is it,” Tsukushi wonders, “that every time I’m about to grasp that hand it just slips through my fingers?”

Volume 32: B-
boysoverflowers32Tsukasa nearly dies from his injuries, but miraculously recovers, though he has amnesia as a result and can’t remember Tsukushi. This ailment is untimely since, in grudging gratitude for Tsukushi’s life-saving actions after Tsukasa’s attack, Kaede says she’ll consider her son dead for one year. Throughout the rest of the volume, Tsukasa continues to be unable to remember Tsukushi while a very annoying, supposedly innocent girl at the hospital begins spending a lot of time with him.

A new romantic rival this late in the game is irritating. It’s strange—previous volumes prove I can accept and be entertained by all kinds of ridiculous drama, but this arc is just incredibly frustrating. I do like that we get a glimpse of a softer side of Kaede, though, and hope that it’ll be followed up on in the future.

Volume 33: B-
boysoverflowers33The amnesia plot persists and Umi continues to hang around Tsukasa, prompting him to wonder if perhaps she is the person he’s forgotten and taking credit for making a bento lunch that he found nostalgic somehow. Kamio-sensei attempts to portray Umi as naive and oblivious rather than calculating, but it doesn’t really work for me and I still hate her unreservedly. Thankfully, Tsukasa begins to realize that being with her simply doesn’t feel right and eventually scares her away with his temper, still awful when not modulated by Tsukushi’s influence.

Tsukushi, meanwhile, has become convinced that the Tsukasa she loves no longer exists and decides to see him one last time to return the mementos of their relationship. The encounter angers her enough to bean him in the head with the baseball she caught on their date and viola, his memories return. I’m more relieved than anything else, though there are certainly some nice moments after their reunion. The volume ends with them heading out to enjoy the freedom granted by their one-year grace period, promising to think about what to do after that when the time comes.

Volume 34: B+
boysoverflowers34Now that Tsukushi and Tsukasa are back on the right path—though Tsukushi can’t quite believe that it’s not going to all fall apart again, given their track record—focus shifts back to the subplot involving Yuki and her feelings for Sojiro. After helping him to attain a bit of closure regarding the one girl he ever really loved, she’s been keeping her distance. When they reconnect at a dinner to celebrate Tsukasa’s recovery, he offers to do something for her to repay her actions, and she asks him to instruct at her school’s Tea Club, unaware that the Sara in the club is the very girl that Sojiro once loved.

Angst ensues, but it’s enjoyable. Yuki is a strong and likable character (whose increasingly mature outlook has been an inspiration for our heroine), Sojiro has some unexpected layers, and it’s nice to give the main couple a break sometimes and let others bear the brunt of the drama burden for a while.

Volume 35: B
boysoverflowers35The Yuki/Sojiro storyline plays out to its conclusion and it’s awesome. Less awesome, alas, are the developments with our main couple. They couldn’t possibly be allowed to enjoy the year of freedom they’ve been granted! Instead, Tsukasa’s father collapses and he decides to go off to New York after graduation and take the reins of the company, leaving he and Tsukushi only a few more days together.

Firstly, this is entirely out of the blue and runs contrary to what Tsukasa was just saying a few volumes ago, about how he’s going to leave the family and all that. Secondly, as his departure approaches, the story turns into a tour of memories, with random reappearances by side characters that I don’t really care about.

All in all, of these volumes, I loved the scenes between Tsukushi and Rui the most, followed by the resolution to the Yuki and Sojiro story. There are some really great moments with the main couple in there, but the amnesia plot and this latest announcement of Tsukasa’s kind of bum me out in that department. Instead of being excited at the prospect of what the final volume will bring, I’m now kind of wary.