Fairy Navigator Runa 1 by Miyoko Ikeda and Michiyo Kikuta: C

Stop me if you’ve heard this one before. There’s this clumsy, kind-hearted girl who learns she’s really a princess and… Oh. You’ve stopped me.

When the female protagonist of a series is “a completely uncoordinated fourth grader,” you just know you’re dealing with a magical girl story. Fairy Navigator Runa is an unoriginal example of the genre, starring a clumsy but kind-hearted girl who learns that she is not only the princess of the fairy world but also possessed of a great power. Yawn.

Runa is resistant to this news at first, but when one friend—whose sole character trait is “the one who clutches a teddy bear”—is nearly struck by a car and another is captured by an evil ferret creature, Runa’s desire to protect her friends awakens her awesome ability to… send fairies back home. Yes, that is her amazing talent, and the inspiration for the manga’s title.

This manga is simply boring. It’s also full of cheesy dialogue like, “I am the one who holds the key to your destiny.” The only original elements are the creepy third eye on the back of Runa’s neck—such an uncute element is rare in this kind of tale—and Sae, the tomboyish best friend who looks at Runa in a very special way upon being rescued. Slashy!

There’s no shortage of magical girl manga out there, so if that’s what you’re after, it shouldn’t be hard to find one better than this.

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

Spiral: The Bonds of Reasoning 1-3 by Kyo Shirodaira and Eita Mizuno: B

I’ve been curious about Spiral: The Bonds of Reasoning for a long time, and after really enjoying The Record of a Fallen Vampire by the same author, I decided to choose it for one of my Shounen Sunday picks.

It’s been two years since Kiyotaka Narumi, a brilliant young detective, disappeared after announcing he was pursuing the mystery of the “Blade Children.” Now, his wife Madoka and younger brother Ayumu are left to wonder what’s become of him. Madoka, a lieutenant on the police force, continues to investigate, while Ayumu is presently slumming it through high school, haunted by the amazing abilities of a brother to whom he feels he will never measure up.

When murder is committed on campus and Ayumu is accused, he must clear his name. Unexpected assistance arrives in the form of Hiyono Yuizaki, the president of the school newspaper who has a mysterious knack for gathering information. Together, they identify the real culprit, who ends up having connections to the Blade Children. Two further deaths require Ayumu’s sleuthing skills and each provides one more morsel of information about the central mystery.

In the second volume, the tone shifts as members of the Blade Children arrive and begin testing Ayumu with a variety of life-or-death challenges. These tests are apparently being administered at Kiyotaka’s orders, possibly as a means to jolt his brother from his torpor and awaken his true abilities so that he might become the Blade Children’s savior. Ayumu performs well, but the Blade Children utilize his lack of faith in himself to manipulate him. At moments like these, it’s Hiyono who steps up to display her utter confidence in her friend.

There’s no doubt that Spiral is an interesting and well-written manga. Author Kyo Shirodaira does an admirable job, achieving perfect pacing with the mystery but also taking the time to develop his lead character. Ayumu is quite the atypical shounen hero. He’s not at all confident in his abilities, and possesses a huge inferiority complex about his brother. Many people whom he meets identify him by his relationship to Kiyotaka, and he worries that his own personal tastes have become shaped by his brother, too. This even affects his ability to play the piano, an instrument he loves but gave up because “Even when I try to play from my heart, it always becomes like my brother’s style.”

Hiyono’s also an intriguing character, providing indispensible assistance time and time again and bolstering Ayumu’s spirits with her convictions when his own are lacking. I love how much he comes to rely on her help and is impressed by her (and tells her so). She even gets to save the day a time or two. It’s great that she’s given the opportunity to prove her usefulness, unlike some female sidekicks in shounen manga.

Unfortunately, the Blade Children are almost unbearably dull. They like to sit around and angst about whether Ayumu really can save them, whether they oughtn’t just kill him instead, whether their as-yet-undefined cruel fate can be avoided, whether it’s worth it to even hope, et cetera. Their gimmick of challenging Ayumu to high-stakes gambles gets repetitive, too. (Bomb, card trick, bomb again, poisoned beverage dilemma.) Even Shirodaira admits it becomes not so much a mystery manga as a “showdown manga.”

Shirodaira is paired with artist Eita Mizuno this time, who is a more consistent and traditional artist than Yuri Kimura, with whom Shirodaira worked on The Record of a Fallen Vampire. I like some of Mizuno’s character designs (Ayumu looks cool with his improbable hair and crazy sideburns) but not others (one of the Blade Children, Eyes Rutherford, looks like a petulant tween goth). I had been thinking that Hiyono looks she stepped from the pages of Ribon, with her big eyes and poofy braids, until the diminutive character of Rio was introduced. Rio, with her even bigger eyes and propensity to trip every five feet, just screams moe, which makes me worry that perhaps Hiyono is supposed to be moe, too. In the end, I think she’s too competent to qualify, but it’s worrisome nonetheless.

While I may find the reality of the Blade Children somewhat lacking, the mystery behind their creation is still intriguing, though ultimately not as compelling as the question of what Kiyotaka is really up to. It’ll also be interesting to see whether these tests do really result in Ayumu achieving his full potential. In fact, Ayumu and Spiral have a lot in common that way—the series has a lot of good points, but hasn’t yet managed to fire on all cylinders.

Yokan 1: Premonition by Makoto Tateno: B-

Akira is the lead singer of a visual kei band and has somewhat of an attitude. He doesn’t care about the fans’ enjoyment, only his own, and refuses to sing anything he didn’t write himself. That is, until he overhears mainstream entertainer Hiroya Sunaga singing one of his own compositions. For the first time, Akira’s obsessed by someone else’s music and makes it his mission to get Hiroya to abandon his “adequate” career and really sing seriously.

Once again, Makoto Tateno has crafted a BL story with a fair amount of plot and a minimum of romance. Yes, Akira and Hiroya eventually become lovers, but there’s always an atmosphere of challenge to their encounters. In dragging Hiroya back into a world he left behind, Akira is creating a rival for himself, setting up a standard to be surpassed.

While this concept is promising, Yokan is far from perfect. When Akira first expresses interest in singing his song, Hiroya demands payment. Readers expect this to be sex, but in fact, he only claims a kiss. This led me to hope the story would be free from a nonconsensual scene, but this is unfortunately not the case. The bonus story, “Sinsemilla,” is also pretty horrible, featuring one character dosing another with an aphrodisiac and said victim later suggesting that the drug made him gay. “I was completely hetero before!”

I liked Yokan well enough to continue to the second volume, but it probably won’t be everyone’s cup of tea.

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

Fullmetal Alchemist 1-2 by Hiromu Arakawa: B+

I’ve been hoarding volumes of Fullmetal Alchemist for several years. Having heard it praised for its impressive storytelling, I decided to wait until it was nearer to being finished in Japan before starting it, with the idea that I might be spared some of the long waits between volumes that other fans have endured. But now, word is that the end is nigh, and with MJ recommending it to me so ardently, the time has finally come. Cracking open that first volume felt like quite the momentous occasion.

Edward and Alphonse Elric are unlike normal teenage boys. Both studied alchemy as children and when Edward found a way to bring their beloved mother back to life, the boys performed the ritual without a second thought, not realizing—in the “equivalent exchange” demanded by alchemy—that it would cost Edward his left leg and Alphonse his entire body. After exchanging his right arm for Alphonse’s soul, Edward grafted the soul into the one human-shaped thing that was handy at the time: a suit of armor. Edward is haunted by this mistake, not to mention the memory of what they actually managed to resurrect for their sacrifice, and his primary concern is regaining their original bodies. To that end, they travel the world looking for the Philosopher’s Stone, an alchemical power booster that might make this possible.

The brothers’ travels bring them into contact with trouble in various forms. Their first deed is to expose an alchemist posing as a religious figure, followed by freeing occupants of a mining town from the corruption of a military official and foiling a train hijacking. While this is going on, Edward is also trying to learn as much as he can about biological transmutation. In the second volume, his research leads him to a state alchemist who’s had some success in this area, which in turn takes the story down a very dark avenue involving human experimentation and a vigilante named Scar who takes it upon himself to execute alchemists who have violated the laws of nature.

I knew exceedingly little about Fullmetal Alchemist going into this, which is great. I knew about the brothers’ injuries, though not how they obtained them, and I knew they’d meet a mechanically inclined girl at some point. That’s it. As a result, I was surprised by a number of things as I read, including the presence of comedy. I’m not sure why I thought there wouldn’t be any, but having lighthearted moments sprinkled throughout is definitely welcome, especially once the story delves into more disturbing territory. I particularly love anything that shows that Alphonse, trapped inside a hulking steel shell, is really just a kid.

I was also surprised (and impressed) that the series tackles the religion vs. science question right away with the story of the fraudulent holy man. This also provides an opportunity to introduce Edward’s feelings about alchemy: because alchemists strive to understand the laws of nature, they are perhaps the closest to God that a human can achieve, but overstepping certain bounds—he likens this to the hubris of Icarus—leads only to sorrow and pain. His conflicted feelings resurface several times in these two volumes; one gets the idea that he would like to avoid the very kind of alchemy he’s been researching, but because it’s his best chance at bodily restoration, he’s got no choice.

Lastly, I was downright shocked by some things in the second volume. Somehow, I had expected the Elric brothers to save Nina, the child of a desperate alchemist about to lose state funding, from her father’s experimentation, but this was not to be. Similarly, I expected them to escape grievous bodily harm when fighting Scar so imagine my surprise when both are gravely injured in volume two. That’s just not normal! Shounen heroes are supposed to sustain wounds that would kill an average guy three times over and then get up for more!

I had originally planned to read three volumes for this review, but so much had happened by the end of volume two that I required time to digest it all. I’m used to a shounen manga’s second volume being the stage of the story where some wacky episodic hijinks introduce our hero to the rivals who’ll eventually become part of his entourage. It’s usually not until half a dozen volumes later that you glimpse the real meat of the story. Not so with Fullmetal Alchemist, which lulls you into expecting that episodic setup but makes with the buildup and continuity right away. I can already tell, and believe me that I mean this as a most sincere compliment, that this is going to be one challenging series.

Fullmetal Alchemist is published in English by VIZ. There are 22 volumes currently available, with volume 23 due out next month. We’re pretty close to being caught up to Japan, where volume 25 just came out in late April.

Ristorante Paradiso by Natsume Ono: B+

Twenty-one-year-old Nicoletta arrives in Rome with the intention of confronting her absentee mother, Olga, and revealing the fact of her existence to Olga’s husband, Lorenzo, who had believed his wife to be childless. Instead, she becomes entranced by her mother’s world and ultimately finds a place in it.

Olga and Lorenzo run a restaurant, and though the food is excellent, many of the patrons come just to see the waiters, a staff of mostly older men who all wear glasses (whether necessary or not) to indulge Olga’s whim. At first Nicoletta is perplexed by the multitude of women swooning over these men until she begins to notice the particular charms of Claudio, the head waiter. Claudio is graceful, sexy, and very kind, though he’s still hung up on his ex-wife and continues to wear his wedding ring. Although Nicoletta originally wrangles a job as a kitchen apprentice in order to be near him, she proves to be genuinely good at cooking. She becomes part of the restaurant’s family, and her relationship with Olga improves as a result.

Ristorante Paradiso is a completely different kind of story than not simple, the other Natsume Ono title currently available in English. It’s happy, for one thing, with a cozy, slice-of-life storytelling style and the kind of predictable yet comforting conclusion that would be perfectly at home in an Italian holiday kind of chick flick. Things between Nicoletta and Olga work out too easily, but most of the focus is on the guys anyway, so I’m not as annoyed as I otherwise would be.

Let’s talk about those guys for a minute. Sexy Claudio is definitely the star among them, but grumpy yet kind Luciano is another standout, as is Gigi, Lorenzo’s eccentric half-brother who seems to have a completely unspoken thing for the boss’s wife. Nicoletta is continually upstaged by these men—and by Olga, whose zeal for life makes her a sympathetic character despite the mistakes she made in the past—and it’s no wonder that Gente, the prequel/sequel series due from VIZ in July, focuses on them and not her. Nicoletta starts out as a directionless twenty-something in search of her place in the world, but we just don’t get to know her well enough to find her journey truly compelling. That said, I did appreciate her confidence in certain situations and she has a terrific final line.

It might just be an illusion, but Natsume Ono’s art looks a little more traditional here than in not simple. There’s no way you’d mistake her work for anyone else’s, but the characters seem more normally proportioned and she really does a great job in conveying Claudio’s gentle demeanor and appeal whenever he appears. While the “show don’t tell” rule gets broken on several occasions, there are still a few examples of good nonverbal communication, too. My one artistic complaint is that I wish we could have seen more of the food! Then we might have had something like the Antique Bakery of Italian cuisine. The subtle inclusion of a hilariously oversized ravioli made by Olga is some compensation, however.

In the end, Ristorante Paradiso is definitely worth reading. The plot won’t knock your socks off, but the experience will likely put a smile on your face nonetheless.

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

The Record of a Fallen Vampire 1-3 by Kyo Shirodaira and Yuri Kimura: B+

For the first two volumes of The Record of a Fallen Vampire, one thinks one has things figured out. There’s the vampire king, Akabara Strauss, who has tirelessly searched for his imprisoned queen for 1000 years despite being hunted by both human and supernatural foes, inspiring much romantic speculation. There’s the dhampire (a human/vampire mix) Jin Renka, who is also motivated by a love that was taken from him, a human named Yuki who was possessed by the Black Swan—a curse that imparts the ability to nullify the vampire king’s magic—and killed by Strauss. And then there’s the newest incarnation of the Black Swan, Kayuki, who, instead of fighting Strauss like she ought to do, instead initiates a truce with him because his help is needed in dealing with a problem of some magnitude.

And then along comes volume three and turns everything on its ear. It would be unfair to spoil the surprise, but at least one new development is so cracktastic one has to admire it.

The Record of a Fallen Vampire is scripted by Kyo Shirodaira, whose authorial blurb mentions he’s a novelist (and performed writerly duties for Spiral: Bonds of Reasoning, as well). He’s taken a novelistic approach with this series, too, pacing the opening volumes to dole out morsels of information at just the right pace, and waiting until the third volume to roll out the surprises. Also, because this series is complete in nine volumes, one suspects that the rest of the story will be equally well plotted. Shirodaira’s sure-handed approach allows one to confidently accept ideas like dhampires and curses without a fuss, concepts that could easily seem ridiculous if sloppily executed.

The characters are also an interesting bunch, and a couple of them—Akabara and his former general turned enemy, Bridget—have already been shown to have layers beyond their combative roles. The dhampires and Black Swan might be compelled to fight the super-powerful Strauss, but nonetheless concede that he’s a good guy. He definitely has his share of sins, but he knows this and is fully prepared to pay for them, and it doesn’t deter him from his relentless search for the queen. Even Laetitia, the young dhampire who Strauss has taken under his wing, manages to be the child-like comic relief without being annoying.

The one problematic note in the early volumes is the art by Yuri Kimura. Improvement is already noticeable by volume three, but problems with anatomy and proportion plague the first volume. The most glaring example is the back cover, which depicts a creepy, pink-haired girl with huge hands and a huge head on a too-tall stalk of a neck. She looks like an alien! This is actually supposed to be Yuki, who happily looks more human in the interior art.

It’s probably obvious that I enjoyed these three volumes quite a bit. I hope to get to the rest soon, because this is a series where storytelling momentum is especially important.

The Record of a Fallen Vampire is published in English by VIZ. All nine volumes are available now.

Cactus’s Secret 2 by Nana Haruta: B-

Miku Yamada has finally managed to make her dense crush, Kyohei Fujioka, understand that she has feelings for him, even though he doesn’t reciprocate. Meanwhile, a pompous classmate publicly declares his affections for Miku and attempts to get Kyohei expelled for stealing the answers to the midterm exams. Later, Miku and Kyohei are both assigned to the Sports Day Planning Committee, where the lovely chief gets too close to Kyohei for Miku’s comfort.

I didn’t have too great an impression of this series after the first volume, since I found the lead character abrasive and largely to blame for her own angst. Things improve in volume two, in which Miku’s tendency to rant actually helps clear up the cheating accusation and in which Kyohei exhibits sufficient obliviousness to justify her irritation. There’s also an especially nice chapter where the two of them get lost on their way to karaoke with friends and end up having a nice time together at the arcade, complete with some genuinely amusing photo stickers.

Unfortunately, we’re only in volume two and the cast already includes four romantic rivals. They do propel the plot along, at least, with the Planning Committee chief causing Miku some pain when she realizes that something Kyohei said to her is the same thing he’d say to anybody else and the new male character offering to reveal Kyohei’s mysterious secret if Miku goes out with him, but it’s still tiresome.

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

Blood+: Kowloon Nights by Hirotaka Kisaragi: B-

In the world of Blood+, a girl named Saya and her trusty servant Hagi battle against chiropterans, a race of blood-sucking creatures. This one-volume prequel focuses on Hagi’s 1993 stay in Hong Kong, during which he teams up with a hot-headed cop named Nishi to put down a man-made pack of chiropterans that’s been leaving corpses in a certain area of town.

Unlike the other manga series in the franchise, Kowloon Nights is definitely intended for a female audience. BL artist Hirotaka Kisaragi (best known in the US for Innocent Bird) excels at depicting attractive male characters and infuses Nishi and Hagi’s interactions with a definite boys’ love vibe. Although there’s not so much as a kiss between them, Nishi frequently blushes and experiences heart palpitations in Hagi’s presence and there are two occasions in which Hagi slurps Nishi’s blood in sexy fashion, including one particular panel that suggests a different bodily fluid entirely.

The plot itself starts promisingly, but soon becomes muddled when a crime boss of some kind reveals his intent to develop a drug that grants immortality. The story probably would’ve been better if it had focused solely on Nishi and the fascination and concern he feels for Hagi, but I suppose they did need a villain to fight so that Hagi could demonstrate that he cares for Nishi, too, in his own way.

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

To Terra… 1 by Keiko Takemiya: A

From the back cover:
The future. Having driven Terra to the brink of environmental collapse, humanity decides to reform itself by ushering in the age of Superior Domination (S.D.), a system of social control in which children are no longer the offspring of parents but the progeny of a universal computer. The new social order, however, results in an unexpected byproduct: the Mu, a mutant race with extrasensory powers who are forced into exile by The System.

The saga begins on educational planet Ataraxia, where Jomy Marcus Shin, a brash and unpredictable teenager, is nervously preparing to enter adult society. When his Maturity Check goes wrong, the Mu intervene in the great hope that Jomy, who possesses Mu telepathy and human physical strength, can lead them back home, to Terra…

Review:
There’s no shortage of sci-fi stories in which the natural resources of Earth have been used up, prompting humans into space in search of new homes. In To Terra…, this situation works out a little differently. Instead, the humans are deemed to be the problem, and the original population of Earth (Terra) is forcibly removed while a eugenics program begins to breed a new race of people willing to submit to the will of Universal Control, part of the Supreme Domination system devised to regulate all aspects of life.

Fourteen-year-old Jomy Marcus Shin is a product of this system and has spent his life thus far on Ataraxia, a planet where children are raised by carefully selected foster parents until such time as they are ready for their Maturity Check. Jomy chafes against this orderly society, however, and is repeatedly subjected to tests designed to weed out ESP abilities—a sign that he is actually a Mu, a race of evolved humans noted for their telepathy and “emotional instability.” None of these tests detect Jomy’s latent powers until the Mu leader hijacks his Maturity Check and recruits Jomy to be the new leader of the Mu and help them achieve their goal of returning to Terra.

Meanwhile, those children who pass their Maturity Check have their fate decided for them by the computer. Some go on to their assigned jobs while others are destined for further schooling. Among these is Keith Anyan, an elite student destined for a position as one of Terra’s most powerful citizens. Currently, Keith is the star pupil at an educational satellite, though he’s not without his doubts about the system. His world is shaken up by a rival student, Seki Ray Shiroe, who refuses to relinquish his own free will, no matter the consequences.

There’s a lot going on in To Terra…, but though it’s definitely a complicated story, it never stops being a compelling one. No matter the differences between characters or their circumstances, all are united by yearning of one kind or another. Jomy yearns for a family life that was real, and it’s his recognition of the depth of the Mu’s longing for a home that helps him to finally understand them and agree to be their leader. Keith, though repeatedly assured of his own place on Terra, secretly yearns for a more inclusive system that would enable his less talented friend, “gentle Sam,” to achieve the same. As it is, Sam will probably spend his entire life in space, not being deemed good enough for a place on the surface.

Nobody is happy with things the way they are, but change requires action. Jomy is bold in his approach, starting the Mu off towards Terra immediately after taking charge, but Keith is constrained by expectations and some surprising revelations about his background. Too, anyone around him who might be of aid either conveniently forgets their dissent after a visit with the mother computer or ends up like Shiroe. In a way, this reminds me of Tezuka’s Adolf, as we are introduced to sympathetic characters on both sides of a conflict and seemingly poised to follow them over many years. In that scenario, Keith would be the Adolf Kaufmann, the sympathetic young man being educated by a fascist government who will either learn to embrace their beliefs or risk losing his place of prestige.

Visually, To Terra… is just as epic as a story like this warrants, with many gorgeous two-page spreads and pages upon pages of star-flecked darkness, emphasizing the vastness of space and the isolation between worlds, cultures, and individuals that’s causing so much pain to the characters. It does bother me that the sound effects haven’t been translated, though, since sometimes they could add a lot to a scene.

Even though To Terra… is technically shounen, the emphasis on the emotional lives of the characters and their simple desire for a home results in a story with universal appeal. No pun intended.

I reviewed To Terra… for May’s Manga Moveable Feast, hosted by Kate Dacey. Other reviews and commentary can be found at Kate’s blog, The Manga Critic. The series is published in English by Vertical and is complete in three volumes.

switch 1-2 by naked ape: C+

Although I knew of the existence of switch, I hadn’t been motivated to read it until David Welsh likened it to Wild Adapter fan fiction. Since I’m pining for new Wild Adapter rather ardently, I decided to check it out.

switch tells the story of a government-run Narcotics Control Division, specifically a pair of rookie investigators, as they attempt to get dangerous drugs off the street. Prickly Hal Kurabayashi is the more senior of the pair and friendly Kai Eto is his new partner—together they pursue leads, conduct busts, and go undercover in sting operations. In addition to smaller cases, they’re also involved in the ongoing investigation into Dragon Speed, a stimulant coming out of Hong Kong.

To judge this series by its premise alone, one might think (as I did) that it sounds pretty interesting. I’m a fan of detective fiction, after all, as well as stories with long mystery arcs. Unfortunately, switch falls flat in its execution. None of the cases is particularly captivating so far, with the possible exception of a popular actor who’s hooked on Dragon Speed, but what’s more disappointing is that none of the characters are, either. Kai possesses a violent alter-ego that activates when he is injured, and normally this would provoke speculation about his mysterious past, but it just comes across as bland cliché. Hal doesn’t do much except act surly. The tone’s also rather strange, with frequent gag panels and scenarios that are supposed to be funny but just really, really aren’t.

All that said, David did not fail to mention that switch gets off to a lackluster start but that he found a later volume to be much improved. Aside from some superficial similarities, there’s not much of a Wild Adapter vibe so far, but it’s pretty clear that Hal and Kai are going to become closer and learn to rely on one another eventually, so perhaps it will develop in future volumes. In the meantime, if you’re hankering for something like Wild Adapter, might I suggest simply rereading the original?