The Kuze family used to be rich, with a retinue of servants ready to cater to their every whim. The daughter of the family, Choko, grew up experiencing the tender care of the chauffeur’s son, whom she called Cha-chan. Alas, after her father’s investments all tanked in an economic downturn, the family was forced to dismiss their household staff and open a soba restaurant.

Thirteen years have passed since then and Choko, now twenty, has just been hired at a new job. Almost immediately, she’s handpicked to join the administrative department by its manager, Masayuki Domoto, who seems to delight in harassing her constantly. It’s only when a disgruntled, knife-wielding man conveniently arrives to threaten her life that Domoto slips and calls her “Milady,” thus revealing the truth: he is Cha-chan. Happily, Choko catches on right away and no tiresome cluelessness ensues.

From then on, Domoto switches between his two personalities—the stern taskmaster and the devoted servant—causing Choko to refer to him as “scary and indulgent.” He picks Choko up for work each morning, but treats her shabbily while she’s there, yet is always around to protect her, whether it’s from the lecherous advances of a drunken client or the massive New Year’s Eve crowds at the family restaurant. It doesn’t take her long to fall for him, and though she tells him so, he doesn’t understand her feelings at all. By the end of the volume, Choko has embraced more of a master role in order to help Domoto see her as an independent woman and not the little girl he helped to raise.

Technically, Butterflies, Flowers is josei, but so far, it doesn’t feel much different from other romantic comedy titles in the Shojo Beat line. It’s a tad racier, with references to sex and some profanity, but one could find that in shojo properties without much effort. I’m sure many will read and enjoy it without being aware of any distinction concerning its origins.

Choko is an okay character: your typical cheerful, clumsy, hardworking type. Because of her sheltered upbringing, she sometimes comes across as incompetent and experiences chibified shock quite often. I like her the best when she switches into aristocratic mode and takes charge of the situation, be it bullying Domoto into seeing a doctor when he falls ill or deciding that even if he can’t grasp that her feelings for him are real, she’s going to keep on demanding his affection until he catches on. Domoto himself is an extremely difficult character to figure out—which one is the real him?—but some of the nicest moments occur when he’s flustered by Choko and shows his more vulnerable side.

Overall, this series is a lot of fun, though definitely lighter fare than I’d been expecting. Still, I like the characters and, even more, I’m intrigued by the new power dynamic emerging in the final few pages. I’ll definitely be back for volume two!

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

After an excellent seventh volume focusing primarily on Takemoto and his journey of self-discovery, Chica Umino replicates the feat with another fantastic installment, this one centering on Yamada and the choice she faces: continue to torture herself by working alongside the long-time object of her affections, Mayama, and the woman he loves or accept the chance to move on presented by Nomiya, Mayama’s coworker.

It’s so very easy to sympathize with Yamada here as she vacillates between anguish over and tearful acceptance of the palpable shift in Mayama and Rika’s relationship. Though she recognizes she has no chance, it’s still difficult to let go of her feelings. Not only did she think she could prove her love was strong by persisting for so long, it also kept her safe from fresh heartbreak. Now, she must finally admit to herself that such a gesture is meaningless, as she takes the first tentative steps toward opening herself up to new possibilities.

Powerful moments aren’t lacking in the other characters’ lives, either. In Mayama’s interactions with Rika we glimpse a far more emotional side of him than we’ve ever seen before, and though elements of one particularly poignant scene are rather unfortunately ambiguous, it’s still nothing short of riveting. I’m also growing quite fond of Nomiya, whose carefully crafted demeanor of cool is shattered by the strength of his feelings for Yamada.

All in all, this is an exceedingly strong volume of a series that is just getting better and better as it approaches its conclusion.

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

From the back cover:
Takemoto’s journey across Japan continues, and though he’s sleeping in empty lots and subsisting on convenience store food, he seems to be getting closer to understanding what made him ride away from school and his friends. But with his money running out and his bike on its last legs, will he have to give up on his quest before he finds what he’s looking for?

Review:
Comedic antics can sometimes overshadow the thoughtful depiction of young adulthood in Honey and Clover, but then a volume like this comes along, full to the brim with gentle metaphor and universal observations, and I realize anew just how great this series is.

The spotlight in this volume is pretty evenly shared by Takemoto and Hagu, each of whom is trying, in their own way, to work out what it is they want from life. Takemoto’s journey has taken him to a tourist town, which takes him by surprise, as he realizes he was so obsessed with how far he could get that he hadn’t actually been paying any attention to the scenery. This parallels his predicament at art school, where he was constantly comparing himself to others and had no clue what he wanted for himself.

After a stint with a temple-restoration group—with whom he’s tempted to remain because the feeling of usefulness banishes his doubts and insecurities quite effectively—he continues on to the northernmost point in Japan, this time paying a lot more attention to the world around him. It’s easy to see how valuable the experience has been for him, and when he finally returns to school, though he claims he didn’t find any big answers on his journey, he’s clearly a more relaxed and confident person than he was when he left. I love how Umino portrays his growth with subtlety; it’s evident in simply his expressions that he’s not the same Takemoto that he was before.

Hagu, meanwhile, is tasked with running a summer art course for kids. Most of her students are appropriately child-like and able to have fun with it, but one boy, who’s under a lot of self-imposed pressure to succeed academically, asks Hagu for pointers on how to win a prize, believing this will give him a boost towards getting into a prestigious middle school. Various people have given Hagu advice lately on what to do to win certain competitions, but she realizes that when she sets a certain target like that, she loses all ability to paint freely and spontaneously. In talking to this kid, they both have a kind of catharsis and help each other find the simple beauty in art again.

It’s no exaggeration to say this volume made me teary twice, when each of these characters finally figured out what it was they needed to do to remain true to themselves and find happiness. I also liked that this volume has very little to do with romance, despite the fact that Takemoto realizes the purpose of his journey was to figure out just how much the life (and people) he was leaving behind meant to him. Both of the series’ two love triangles do get touched on a bit, but now it feels like they’re really ready to be addressed in the final few volumes, as Takemoto is finally in shape to be a viable contender for Hagu’s heart.