Platinum End Volume 2 by Tsugumi Ohba and Takeshi Obata

This is a series that I want to like a little more than I actually do in practice after reading each volume. I thought that the first volume had a lot of potential, but I was a bit worried about some of the themes being a rehash of Death Note. I had a mixed experience with the second volume, finding the first few chapters more interesting than some of the main action depicted in the latter portion of the manga.

Mirai gets struck by a red arrow by a girl who he already had a crush on! This was the part of the manga that I found the most compelling as a reader, because Mirai has been dealing with manipulating people and the complications that ensue in the first volume, but then the situation is reversed in the second volume. This change of dynamic was interesting, and I thought the emotional aspects of being in thrall to someone were well-portrayed as Mirai is suddenly enthusiastic about protecting Saki at all costs, but he clearly would have been willing to help her without being coerced. Saki meanwhile seems to like him well enough but is still signaling her disinterest in a romantic relationship with Mirai in a diplomatic way.

The bulk of the manga deals with a confrontation with Metropoliman in a stadium, where a variety of coerced god-candidates and audience plants end up in a series of revelations and double-cross maneuverings that play out while Mirai and Saki have to sit in the stands like regular audience members, so they don’t end up being a target for the god candidates too. There wasn’t as much dramatic tension in these scenes because most of the time people were yelling variations of “gotcha!” and played out over multiple pages, it got to be a bit too one-note for me. I didn’t very much care for the way an under-aged girl with the god-power of wings was portrayed, with some of the panels like one showing the way she got struck by a red arrow are uncomfortably sexualized.

The art is always a highlight of any Obata title, and for the most part I’m enjoying that, but I’m hoping that the story ends up being a bit more compelling in future volumes. I’m still not finding this title as compelling as Death Note, but that’s a high bar to measure anything by. Although I’m not enjoying Platinum End as much as I hope to, it is still more interesting than many shonen titles.

Did you receive an Amazon or RightStuf gift certificate this holiday? If so, this post is for you! Below, I’ve reviewed the first volumes of three series that debuted in 2014, offering a quick-and-dirty assessment of each. Already read Food Wars? Fear not—I’ve also tackled Manga Dogs, a comedy about a teen manga artist, and Yukarism, a time-traveling, gender-bendering manga from Chika Shiomi (Canon, Yurara).

Food Wars, Vol. 1
Story by Yuto Tsukada, Art by Shun Saeki
Rated T+, for Older Teens
VIZ Manga, $9.99

Food Wars begins with an only-in-manga scenario: Soma Yukihira’s dad shutters the family’s greasy spoon restaurant and lights out for America, leaving his son behind. With no place to go, Soma enrolls at Totsuki Culinary Academy, a hoity-toity cooking school that prides itself on its wealthy alumnae, rigorous curriculum, and high attrition rate. Soma’s working-class background is a major handicap in this environment, but his can-do attitude and culinary instincts allow him to triumph in difficult situations, whether he’s salvaging an over-salted pot roast or wowing an unscrupulous developer with a simple potato dish.

In theory, I ought to hate Food Wars for its cartoonish characters and abundant cheesecake, two qualities I generally despise in a manga. But here’s the thing: it’s fun. Soma repeatedly shows up bullies and snobs with his ability to transform everyday dishes into haute cuisine, proving that good food doesn’t need to be fancy. Though Soma’s foes are stock types—the Busty Bitch, the Rich Mean Boy, the Teacher With Impossibly High Standards—Shun Sakei’s crisp caricatures make them seem like fresh creations. I wish I could say the same for Sakei’s abundant fanservice, which quickly wears out its welcome with porny images of women enjoying Soma’s cooking. These pin-up moments are supposed to be funny, I guess, but the heavy emphasis on heaving cleavage and bare skin seems more like a concession to teenage male taste than an organic part of the story.

The verdict: I can’t decide if Food Wars is a guilty pleasure or a hate read, but I’ve just purchased volumes 2-4.

Manga Dogs, Vol. 1
By Ema Toyama
Rated T, for Teens
Kodansha Comics, $10.99

Manga Dogs has a terrific premise: a teenage artist decides to enroll in her school’s manga program, only to discover that her teacher is inept, and her classmates are pretty-boy otakus with no skill or work ethic. When Kanna’s classmates discover that she’s actually a published artist, Fumio, Fujio, and Shota glom onto her in hopes of breaking into the business—even though her debut series is on the verge of being cancelled.

With such a ripe set-up, it’s a pity that Manga Dogs is DOA. Part of the problem is that the script panders to the reader at every turn, whether it’s poking fun at reverse-harem tropes or saddling the characters with pun-tastic names inspired by famous manga creators. The author spends too much time patting the reader on the back for “getting” the jokes and not enough time writing genuinely funny scenarios or imbuing her characters with more than one personality trait each. The other issue is pacing: the story and artwork are both frenetic, with characters screaming, jumping, and flapping their arms on almost every page. By the end of the third chapter, I felt as if someone had beaten me up for my lunch money while asking me, “Do you think I’m funny? No? Now do you think I’m funny?”

The verdict: Just say no.

Yukarism, Vol. 1
By Chika Shiomi
Rated T, for Teen
VIZ Media, $9.99

Yukarism combines the supernatural elements of Rasetsu with the historical drama of Sakuran, then adds a dash of gender-bending weirdness for good measure. The story revolves around Yukari, a best-selling author whose novels explore the history of Edo’s red-light district. Though fans attribute the abundant details in his writing to research, Yukari has an even better strategy for learning about the past: he visits it! When he returns to the 1800s, however, Yukari becomes Yumurasaki, a top-earning oiran (or courtesan) enmeshed in a web of political intrigue, lust, and violence.

Given the complexity of the plot, it’s not surprising that the first volume of Yukarism is a bumpy ride. The tone see-saws between broad physical comedy and brooding melodrama, making it difficult to know if Yukari’s plight is being played for laughs or sniffles. The script, on the other hand, is too pointed; manga-ka Chika Shiomi is so intent on telling us what Yukari is thinking and seeing that she forgets the old dictum about showing, not telling. The same kind of editorial interventions result in at least one character waxing profusely about how handsome and cool Yukari is, just in case we haven’t realized that he’s supposed to be handsome and cool. Now that the basic parameters of the story have been established, however, Shiomi can dispense with the heavy-handed dialogue and do what she does best: write sudsy supernatural romances with beautiful characters in beautiful costumes.

The verdict: Volume two should be a pure guilty pleasure.

These reviews originally appeared at MangaBlog on January 2, 2015.

The Art of Pokemon Adventures by Satoshi Yamato

The young children in my house have firmly moved on to Yu-Gi-Oh from Pokemon, so this book did not immediately get stolen which is sometimes what happens with the manga that arrives in my house like Haikyu! or Kuroko’s Basketball.

However, as an art book I do think this would appeal to Pokemon Adventure fans. It is a solid book with full-color illustrations printed on glossy paper, with plenty of fold-out posters. Along with the finished art, plenty of sketches are included so the reader can get a sense of how the drawings evolved from idea to finished illustration. Line art is also included, as well as a couple sample panel layouts and some color guides for the characters. The librarian in me appreciated that an index was included in the back of the book, so all the illustrations can be matched up with the manga that they originally appeared in. A bonus short manga chapter concludes the volume. I thought the production quality of this volume was solid, it made me think I should check out other Viz art books.

While the US manga market has plenty to offer teen readers, there’s a dearth of titles for kids who have aged out of Yokai Watch but aren’t quite ready for Bleach or Soul Eater. Astra Lost in Space, a new addition to the VIZ catalog, is a perfect transitional title for ten, eleven, and twelve-year-olds who want to read “real” manga: its slick illustrations and adventure-driven plot feel just edgy enough for this group, while the content falls safely within the boundaries of what’s appropriate for the middle school crowd.

The plot of Astra Lost in Space may remind older fans of Moto Hagio’s sci-fi classic “They Were Eleven”: nine high school students find themselves stranded aboard a spaceship whose communication system has been disabled. With only a few days’ supply of water and food on board, the group is forced to improvise a plan for making the five-month journey home. Their solution: hopscotching between planets — let’s call them “Class M” for the sake of convenience — where an abundant supply of water, plants, and animals await harvesting.

As you might guess, the planet-of-the-week formula provides artist Kenta Shinohara (Sket Dance) ample opportunity to draw menacing fauna and flora, and stage imaginative action sequences. In the volume’s best scene, for example, team captain Kanata Hoshijima leap-frogs across a field of sky-high lily pads to rescue the group’s youngest member from a flying, six-legged monster. Shinohara lavishes more attention to detail on Kanata’s long jump technique than on the turgon itself, breaking down each of Kanata’s jumps into discrete steps recognizable to any track-and-field fan: the approach, the takeoff, the hang, and the landing. In a further nod to realism, Shinohara shows us the physical toll that each jump exacts from Kanata; we can practically hear Kanata’s heaving breaths as he readies himself for the next one, an effective gambit for casting doubt on Kanata’s ability to reach Funicia.

For all the skill with which this rescue is staged, Shinohara can’t disguise the fact his characters feel like they’re the products of a Shonen Jump reader’s poll, rather than original creations. Kanata, for example, is a walking, talking checklist of shonen hero traits: he’s strong, friendly, over-confident, and burdened with a tragic backstory that gives him the will to persevere in any situation, no matter how dire. He also happens to be a decathlete, a fact that’s revealed as he rescues Funicia from the turgon’s grip. (At least that explains his javelin-throwing skills.) The other characters are less developed than Kanata, but will seem familiar to anyone who’s read three or four Shonen Jump titles: there’s Quittierre, a pretty rich girl whose tantrums conceal a good heart; Aries, a cute spaz who makes Edith Bunker look like a genius; Zack, a calm, smart boy who speaks in complete paragraphs; Charce, a boy who’s so handsome he sparkles; and a handful of less-defined characters who — according to the Third Law of Manga Plot Dynamics — will either be monster fodder or directly responsible for their classmates’ terrible predicament.

Manga novitiates, however, will be less troubled by these nods to convention, thanks to the story’s brisk pacing, smart-looking layouts, and game attempts at humor. Though there’s a mild bit of fanservice and “fantasy violence” (VIZ’s term, not mine), parents, teachers, and librarians should feel comfortable allowing middle school students to read Astra.

N.B. The first 45 chapters are currently available through the VIZ website for anyone wishing to screen the story for younger readers. Volume one of Astra is also available in a Kindle edition, and will be available in a print edition that’s slated for a December 5th release.

ASTRA LOST IN SPACE, VOL. 1 • STORY AND ART BY KENTO SHINOHARA • TRANSLATED BY ADRIENNE BECK • VIZ • 204 pp. • RATED T for TEEN

Crack pacing, crisp artwork, and a shocking plot twist in chapter one — those are just three reasons to pick up The Promised Neverland when it arrives in comic shops on December 5th. The first volume is a masterful exercise in world-building, introducing the principal characters and the main conflict in a few economic strokes, avoiding the trap that ensnares so many fantasy authors: the info-dump introduction. Instead, the writer-artist team of Kaiu Shirai and Posuka Demizu allow the reader to figure out what’s happening by revealing important plot details as the characters uncover them, and letting the artwork establish the setting. That makes the very earliest pages of the story flow more like a rollercoaster than a Star Wars screen crawl, making every page turn feel like an urgent necessity.

The story begins at Grace Field House, an orphanage plucked from a Victorian novel: the main building is a homey Tudor villa that’s surrounded by open meadows and lush forest, perfect for a game of tag. Our first hint that something is amiss comes just six pages into the story, as Emma, the narrator, makes a mental note of all the things she’s grateful for: “a warm bed, delicious food” and “an all-white uniform.” Before we can ponder the significance of the uniform, however, Demizu inserts a panel revealing that every resident of Grace Field House has a number tattooed on her neck, a sure sign that the orphans are more prisoners than temporary wards:

A smattering of other clues — including a series of daily IQ tests and a fence encircling the property — reinforce our perception that Emma and her friends Roy and Norman are in grave danger. And while the earliest chapters occasionally bow to Shonen Jump convention with on-the-nose narration, it’s the artwork, not Emma’s voice-over, that makes each new revelation feel so sinister. Consider the panel that introduces the testing ritual:

In the first ten pages of the story, Demizu uses little to no shading to create volume or contrast, instead depicting the setting and characters through clean, graceful linework. The image above, which appears on pages 12-13, is the first time that we see such a dramatic use of tone; the students at the back of the frame look like they’re being swallowed by a black hole, while the students at the front sit under a klieg light’s glare. Demizu’s subsequent drawings are more restrained than this particular sequence, but her artwork becomes more detailed and complex than what we saw in the story’s first pages — it’s as if the setting is coming into focus for the first time, complicating our initial impressions of Grace Field House as a place of refuge.

I’m reluctant to say more about the plot, since the first chapter’s spell loses some of its potency if you know the Big Terrible Secret beforehand. (If you absolutely, positively must know what happens, Wikipedia has a decent, one-paragraph summary of the premise.) By the time Emma, Roy, and Norman realize the real purpose of their incarceration, however, the basic “rules” of the Promised Neverland universe have been firmly established, and the characters fleshed out enough for us to care whether they succeed in escaping. More importantly, the lead trio are smart and capable without seeming like miniature adults, making their likelihood of success seem uncertain, rather than preordained. That element of suspense may be difficult to sustain for 10 or 20 volumes, but hot damn — volume one is a nail-biter. Count me in for more!

Volume one debuts on December 5th in print and ebook form. Chapters 1-3 are available for free on the VIZ website; the story is currently being serialized in the English edition of Weekly Shonen Jump.

The Promised Neverland by Kaiu Shirai and Posuka Demizu

This series is one of more intriguing debuts that I’ve read from the Shonen Jump line in a long time. It is also a very difficult series to write about due to a pretty dramatic plot twist that happens around 40 pages into the manga, but I’m going to be deliberately vague and avoid spoilers.
The series opens with a semi-idyllic portrayal of life in an orphanage in what looks like a non-specific European country. Emma, Norman, and Ray are some of the oldest orphans, and each is gifted with some special talents. Emma is a tremendous athlete, Norman is incredibly smart, and Ray is a strategic thinker who is constantly honing his powers of observation. The orphans are cared for by a woman named Mom, who they all love as the only adult in their lives. As the first few pages unfold, small details in the art start to unsettle the reader. Why do all the orphans have numeric sequences tattooed on their necks? Why do they all have to dress in white? Why are they subjected to what looks like insanely detailed IQ tests in the morning, and then given the freedom to roam around the woods that surround the orphanage in the afternoon?

The orphans make a discovery that causes them to question the environment that they’ve been raised in, and their unique personalities and perspectives cause them to band together to start to assess their situation and develop a plan of action. While Emma is smart, one of the greatest things she brings to the team is moral clarity and a sense of urgency. The two boys are more cerebral, with Norman being more book smart, and Ray serving as a mastermind who is initially focused most on what is practical to accomplish. This volume focuses mainly on the orphans testing their assumptions and working together to figure out how The Promised Neverland doesn’t really live up to the fairy-tale aspects of the title. The art in the series features faces that are a but smushy, but very expressive of emotion. Emma’s hairstyle looks like a reference to Duck in Princess Tutu, so I found that amusing. The Promised Neverland is incredibly dark, but seeing how resourceful the orphans are brings an element of hope into play for the reader. The first volume of the series easily draws the reader into the sinister world the orphans are resisting. Extremely entertaining, and I’m already impatient for the next volume.

Before we get to this week’s reviews, I have a brief programming announcement. Response to The Manga Revue has been very positive, so I am phasing out the Monthly Manga Review Index in favor of this more flexible weekly format; that way, readers can find reviews of new and noteworthy releases as they arrive in stores, rather than at the end of the month. If there’s a great website or podcast that I should be highlighting, please let me know in the comments; I’d like the Revue to help manga fans discover new critics, not just new books.

One my other goals for this column is to revisit series I’ve previously reviewed. Like many critics, I have a tendency to focus on debut volumes at the expense of second, third, or fifteenth installments. As a corrective, I’m dedicating this week’s column to The Promised Neverland, a manga that made my Best of 2017 list, thanks to a terrific introductory volume. Does the second volume fulfill the promise of the first? Read on for the skinny.

The Promised Neverland, Vol. 2
Story by Kaiu Shirai, Art by Posuka Demizu
Translated by Satsuki Yamashita
VIZ Media; 192 pp.
Rated T, for Teen

The first volume of The Promised Neverland was a masterclass in how to launch a series: the plotting was intricate but the brisk pacing and well-timed twists prevented an exposition-heavy story from sagging under the weight of its own ambition. Of necessity, volume two unfurls at a slower clip than the first, as the principal trio of Emma, Ray, and Norman work through the logistics of escaping Gracefield Manor, weighing the pros and cons of each element in their intricate plan. Kaiu Shirai also expands the cast to include other stakeholders, dedicating several chapters to Krone, Mother’s new subordinate, and Don and Gilda, two high-achieving students who haven’t yet learned the true purpose of Gracefield Manor.

These character moments are one of the great strengths of volume two. Krone, for example, turns out to be more resourceful than we might have guessed from her brief introduction in volume one; Shirai and Posuka Demizu use a woodland game of tag to reveal Krone’s formidable strength, speed, and cunning, establishing her as yet another major obstacle to escape. At the same time, Shirai peels away the outer layers of her principal characters, complicating the reader’s understanding of who they are, what motivates them to escape, and with whom their true allegiance lies — a necessary corrective to the first volume, which portrayed Emma, Ray, and Norman as just a little too smart, too capable, and too thoughtful to fully register as twelve-year-olds.

Volume two hits an occasional speed bump when characters discuss the escape plan. One overly deliberate scene, for example, finds Roy and Norman in full Scooby Doo mode, explaining how they figured out there was a mole among the residents. Despite these lapses, The Promised Neverland remains suspenseful thanks, in no small part, to Demizu’s brief but horrific dream sequences; these suggestive images — a swirl of bodies, teeth, and monstrous eyes — provide a potent reminder of what’s at stake if the kids don’t escape Mother’s clutches. Count me in for volume three!

Must-Read — and Must-Hear — Manga Reviews

Siddharth Gupta takes an in-depth look at the latest chapter of Dragon Ball Super, while Shea and Derek dedicate their latest Comics Alternative podcast to Red-Colored Elegy and The Promised Neverland. Over at Manga in Your Ears, Kory reviews two manga by Yoshitoki Ōima: A Silent Voice and To Your Eternity. Last but not least, Hans Rollman gives two thumbs up to the new live-action adaptation of Erased that’s currently streaming on Netflix.

New and Noteworthy

• Again!!, Vol. 1 (Sean Gaffney, A Case Suitable for Treatment)
• Again!!, Vol. 1 (Kathleen Townsend, Looking Glass Reads)
• Astra Lost in Space, Vol. 1 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)
• Astra Lost in Space, Vol. 1 (Ross Liversidge, UK Anime Network)
• Battle Angel Alita Mars Chronicle, Vol. 1 (Ross Liversidge, UK Anime Network)
• Beasts of Abigaile, Vols. 1-2 (Michelle Smith, Soliloquy in Blue)
• Children of the Whales, Vol. 1 (Helen, The OASG)
• Generation Witch, Vol. 1 (Ross Liversidge, UK Anime Network)
• Giant Spider & Me: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale, Vol. 1 (Rebecca Silverman, Anime News Network)
• Giant Spider & Me: A Post-Apocalyptic Tale, Vol. 1 (Justin, The OASG)
• Happiness, Vol. 1 (Ross Liversidge, UK Anime Network)
• The Royal Tutor, Vols. 1-2 (Julie, Manga Maniac Cafe)
• Saint Seiya: Saintia Shō, Vol. 1 (Evan Bourgault, Boston Bastard Brigade)
• Silver Spoon, Vol. 1 (Demelza, Anime UK News)
• Tales of Wedding Rings, Vol. 1 (Rebecca Silverman, Anime News Network)
• To Your Eternity, Vol. 1 (Josh Piedra, The Outerhaven)
• Today’s Cerebus, Vols. 1-2 (Nic Willcox, No Flying No Tights)

Ongoing Series

• Anonymous Noise, Vol. 6 (Anna N., The Manga Report)
• Arakawa Under the Bridge, Vol. 2 (Eric Cline, AiPT!)
• Black Clover, Vol. 7 (Julie, Manga Maniac Cafe)
• Black Clover, Vol. 10 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)
• Bloom Into You, Vol. 4 (Erica Friedman, Okazu)
• Children of the Whales, Vol. 2 (Leroy Douresseaux, Comic Book Bin)
• The Flowers of Evil Omnibus, Vol. 2 (Evan Bourgault, Boston Bastard Brigade)
• Food Wars!! Shokugeki no Soma, Vol. 21 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)
• Grimgar of Fantasy and Ash, Vol. 3 (Alisha Taran, Reality’s a Bore)
• Haikyu!!, Vol. 15 (Leroy Douresseaux, Comic Book Bin)
• The Love and Creed of Sae Maki: SAE-ISM, Vol. 3 (Justin, The OASG)
• My Hero Academia, Vol. 10 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)
• My Hero Academia, Vol. 11 (Nick Creamer, Anime News Network)
• Nisekoi: False Love, Vols. 21-25 (Dustin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)
• One Piece, Vol. 85 (Sean Gaffney, A Case Suitable for Treatment)
• The Promised Neverland, Vol. 2 (Donovan Bertch, LRM)
• To Your Eternity, Vol. 2 (Josh Piedra, The Outerhaven)
• To Your Eternity, Vol. 3 (David Brooke, AiPT!)
• Twin Star Exorcists, Vol. 10 (Justin Cabeal, Comic Bastards)
• Yona of the Dawn, Vol. 10 (Anna N., The Manga Report)

From the Vault

• Bakuman, Vol. 2 (Julie, Manga Maniac Cafe)
• Butterflies, Flowers, Vol. 1 (Chris Beveridge, The Fandom Post)
• Death Note Tome 10 (SKJAM, SKJAM! Reviews)
• Helvetica Standard (Krystallina, Daiyamanga)
• I Am Here!, Vol. 1 (LG, A Library Girl’s Familiar Diversions)
• Nichijou: My Ordinary Life (Krystallina, Daiyamanga)
• Ristorante Paradiso (Sakura Eries, The Fandom Post)
• Suzuka (Megan R., The Manga Test Drive)

Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, Volume 1 by Kagiji Kumanomata

This manga was an unexpected delight. I was initially curious about Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle due to it being a Shonen Sunday title, which is a bit of a rarity. I feel like fantasy comedy series can be a bit hit or miss, but I found this title quite entertaining, mostly due to the way it subverts the whole idea of kidnapped princesses.

Syalis is the kidnapped princes in question and while the people in her kingdom pine for her and a idiotic knight vows to rescue her at the start of each chapter, she is solely concerned with getting some good rest. The demon castle lacks high quality pillows and bedding, and she is determined to secure what she needs by any means necessary. Syalis casually embarks on a reign of terror in the castle as she locates unique demons to use for her own purposes. She harvests fur from her guards, who look like fluffy teddy bears. She locates giant scissors and cuts off the body of ghosts in order to get some high quality fabric. Throughout most of the manga, her facial expressions are totally stoic, in contrast to the demons who are being driven frantic by her casual escape attempts. She also seems to have a knack for finding rare magical objects and repurposing them as sleep aids. There’s really only one joke in this manga, but it is executed very well. The unique character designs of the demons and the expanding cast of characters keeps the manga entertaining, even though the plot points in each chapter are so similar. I’m not sure how long the central joke can be sustained, as this series lasts for several volumes, but the first volume was so entertaining I’m definitely going to give it a try.

Dr. Stone Volume 1 by Riichiro Inagaki and Boichi

Dr. Stone is a shonen series that is entertaining due to the combination of post-apocalyptic setting and mad scientist hero. The first chapter opens with overly enthusiastic high schooler Taiju vowing to confess his love to the girl he’s had a crush on for the past five years. His cynical scientist friend Senku wishes him well in a backhanded fashion. Just as Taiju is about to launch into his confession a mysterious light appears in the sky and all the people in the world get turned into stone, frozen in place for several thousand years.

When Taiju wakes up again, he comes to in an overgrown area littered with stone fragments of people. He wanders around and sees one of his most powerful classmates, Tsukasa, also frozen in place. Senku pops up and tells Taiju that he overslept terribly, because he’s been awake and on his own for the past year and a half. Senku is determined to restart civilization, but he needs additional help, and Taiju is going to serve as the muscle in his scientific endeavors. Senku has a habit of making grand pronouncements about the rate of his ability to reconstruct stone-age scientific discoveries by yelling “Get Excited!”

There’s certainly a lot of yelling, naked men wearing leaves, and hazardous attacks from both animals and other survivors in Dr. Stone, but I enjoyed the emphasis on adventures driven by ancient science. The dynamic between the two protagonists, with one of them being super smart and the one mainly having enthusiasm on his side also set up plenty of amusing side scenes in between all the fighting and scrabbling for survival. I tend to not always be that enthusiastic about non-sports shonen manga, but I was definitely intrigued by the first volume of this series.

Black Torch, Vol 1 by Tsuyoshi Takaki

I was surveying my stacks of manga and decided that I needed to make more of an effort to get into the Halloween spirit. I figured that Black Torch was an ideal candidate since it features supernatural beings and a black cat, who is also a supernatural being. Spooky!

Jiro is the plucky protagonist of this manga, who has some unique abilities. He has the ability to talk to animals and is descended from a long line of ninjas. He also has absolutely no tolerance for animal cruelty, as the opening scene in the manga shows him driving of a gang that was bugging a stray cat and raven. Jiro’s Grandfather seems to mainly enjoy yelling at his grandson about ninja traditions. Jiro finds out about a cat in distress and goes to rescue it. He finds Rago, a demon (or mononoke) trapped in the form of a black cat. Jiro learns that Rago was caught up in a demonic struggle, and doesn’t remember all the details of his past. Jiro is determined to help Rago, even though the demon attempts to leave Jiro, he is relentless in his desire to help. This is one of the more endearing aspects of Black Torch, even though Jiro ends up getting trapped in a deadly mononoke battle. Rago and Jiro end up being fused together, as Rago goes to help his reckless ninja friend. There are elements that are somewhat predictable in most shonen manga, like a supernatural protection agency and the hints that Rago and Jiro will soon join a team fighting evil.

The art in Black Torch has a slightly scratchy quality that I enjoyed. Rago’s surprised cat faces were hilarious, and when his mystical powers manifest in the form of swirling black tendrils surrounding his cat form, the effect is suitably dramatic and mystical. The action scenes are dynamic. While Black Torch doesn’t stray far from the typical shonen manga formula, Jiro’s devotion to animals, the odd couple relationship between him and Rago, and Rago’s hilarious cat expressions go pretty far in making it an enjoyable supernatural action manga.

Dr. Stone Volume 2 by Riichiro Inagaki and Boichi

The second volume of Dr. Stone featured fewer scenes of crazy science action, but it did spend a more time on world building and setting up the conflict between the friends Senku and Taiju and newly revived but reactionary classmate Tsukasa. Senku is determined to push technology forward by manufacturing gunpowder, in order to give his group an advantage. The gunpowder sets off a plume of smoke which is answered by another smoke signal, indicating that the teenagers might not be alone in their post-apocalyptic world where everyone has been turned into stone.

There was a flashback chapter showing Senku, Taiju, and Yuzuriha when they were young and pursuing Senku’s childhood dreams of rocketry. It was nice to see a glimpse of this mini friend group as little kids, and it played in well to how they work together to survive a hostile environment. Taiju and Yuzuriha have to figure out how to rescue their mad scientist friend, and we also get a glimpse of what Senku went through on his own, when he was the only human to wake up. There’s still plenty of dynamic science action in Boichi’s art, and while the second volume was a little less entertaining for me than the first simply because I was no longer as diverted by the initial premise of the manga, I’m curious to see how the conflict between Senku and Tsukasa is going to play out over the long term.

Female characters who exist mainly to be decorative and supportive is one of my shonen pet peeves, and at the end of this volume Dr. Stone seems to be heading in that direction. I’m not sure if all the genuinely enjoyable yelling about paleolithic science will be enough to offset those sort of plot developments, but I’ve liked the series so far.

Shibuya Goldfish falls somewhere along the horror continuum between Sharknado 3 and Jaws: it’s too competently executed to be a guilty pleasure but too predictable to be genuinely scary. Though the premise has serious camp potential, author Hiroumi Aoi settles for a pedestrian approach to the material, trapping his cast in a high-rise shopping center where death lurks around every corner. There are a few glimmers of imagination here and there, but the overall result lacks the visceral punch, humor, or sheer imagination of other entries in the Killer Fish genre.

The story begins in media res, with a shot of Hachiko — Shibuya’s most famous statue — stained in blood. We then cut to an image of a panting, wild-eyed teen staring incredulously at a monstrous goldfish feasting on a pedestrian in the middle of a busy street. “That day was the first time I ever saw someone die,” Hajime solemnly informs us, before a flashback reveals what led up to this gruesome scene.

I won’t lie: those opening pages are a tantalizing hook for a horror buff. Though Aoi doesn’t reveal where the goldfish came from, he sells the Fish-Gone-Wild concept by emphasizing the predators’ size, numbers, and blank-eyed stares, making us appreciate the sheer incongruity of Volkswagen-sized fish swarming through an urban landscape. The goldfish’s penchant for uttering intelligible phrases — “I’m home, mom,” one burbles — adds another layer of mystery to their existence: are they truly sentient or are they merely ghosts, back to haunt the owners that flushed them down the toilet?

Where Shibuya Goldfish falls short is the human dimension. Hajime is the only character who’s properly fleshed out, an earnest, slightly awkward high school student whose dreams of becoming a filmmaker are dashed by the catastrophe. The other characters are more placeholders than people, dropped into the story to generate conflict or provide useful information about goldfish behavior before dying. In recognition of their liminal status, Aoi only bestows names on a small fraction of the cast, one of whom — the beautiful, bitchy Chitose Fukakusa — is such a vile male fantasy that the introduction of two more competent, sincere female characters in chapters two and three barely erase the memory of Fukakusa’s manipulative behavior and panty flashes.

The other fundamental issue with Shibuya Goldfish is the artwork, which juxtaposes photo-realistic backgrounds and fish with generic character designs. The tension between these two modes of representation ends up robbing volume one’s creepiest scenes of their dramatic impact, as the full horror of what happens to several characters is muted by Aoi’s blandly rendered faces and bodies; the grotesque bodily deformations that make Junji Ito, Hideshi Hino, and Kanako Inuki’s work so arresting barely elicit a “yuck!” in Aoi’s hands. It’s a pity these moments don’t land with more oomph because Shibuya Goldfish flirts with an interesting idea: the notion that a pet as small, helpless, and disposable as a goldfish might be the downfall of humanity, punishing us for our reckless treatment of other living things. Perhaps Aoi will delve into the monsters’ origins in future volumes, but the so-so execution of these foundational chapters didn’t reel me in. Your mileage will vary.

SHIBUYA GOLDFISH, VOL. 1 • BY HIROUMI AOI • TRANSLATED BY KO RANSOM • YEN PRESS • 242 pp. • RATED OT (OLDER TEEN) FOR LANGUAGE, NUDITY, AND VIOLENCE

Since one in four Americans suffer from insomnia, it seems like there’s a natural market for Sleepy Princess in the Demon Castle, a manga about a character so determined to get a good night’s sleep that she’d risk death or dismemberment for forty winks. Sleepy Princess plays the title character’s insomnia for laughs, however, turning the heroine’s quest for the perfect mattress into a light-hearted romp, rather than an expensive ordeal involving black-out curtains, melatonin, and meditation videos. That the story is fun and breezy is nothing short of a miracle, though older readers may experience a twinge of jealously at Princess Syalis’ ability to fall asleep anywhere, anytime once she has the right gear.

Author Kagiji Kumanomata handles the set-up with great economy: in just two pages, we learn the Demon King has kidnapped Syalis in a bid to conquer the human world. Though the Demon King stashes Syalis in a dungeon populated by fearsome beasts, Syalis quickly sizes up the situation and makes it work to her advantage. “Since I’m hostage, the Demon King has no intention of harming me,” she notes. “I have no duties to take care of here… And the food’s pretty tasty!” The one drawback to her new digs? “I haven’t been able to get a good night’s rest since I was brought here!” she exclaims.

A chance encounter with teddy demons leads to her first epiphany: her captors’ fur is the ideal stuffing for a comfy pillow. Before long, Syalis is roaming the castle in search of softer sheets, mosquito netting, and a more natural light source, the better to regulate her body’s circadian rhythms. Her dogged efforts to sleep longer or more soundly confound her jailers, who are astonished at how brazenly she takes what she needs; Syalis dies at least three times in her quest for the perfect sleep accessories. (Don’t worry; a handsome demon cleric is on hand to resurrect her mangled body.)

As with other one-joke manga, Sleepy Princess occasionally strains for laughs; an episode involving poison mushrooms falls flat, as does a spoof of Princess Knight. The chapters’ brevity helps keep the story from bogging down in bad jokes, as does Kumanomata’s consummate attention to detail; there’s always something funny happening, even if the gags are buried in the background or lurking on the edges of the page. An artful adaptation by Annette Roman helps bridge the translation divide, as do Susan Daigle-Leach’s marvelous sound effects. (If you’ve ever wondered what a posse of demon teddy bears might sound like, she’s got you covered.) Best of all, Kumanomata has barely scratched the surface when it comes to insomnia, leaving the door open for future quests, from finding the right bedtime snack to finding the right temperature for sleeping. Recommended.

SLEEPY PRINCESS IN THE DEMON CASTLE, VOL. 1 • BY KAGIJI KUMANOMATA • TRANSLATION BY TETSUICHIRO MITAYKI • ADAPTATION BY ANNETTE ROMAN • TOUCH-UP ART AND LETTERING BY SUSAN DAIGLE-LEACH • VIZ MEDIA • 174 pp. • RATED TEEN (13+) FOR FANTASY VIOLENCE

It’s been a while since I added a new Shonen Jump title to my pull list. Don’t get me wrong: I love One-Punch Man and The Promised Neverland, but I find that many shonen titles overstay their welcome (usually around the fourth or fifth tournament arc). Still, it’s hard to resist the allure of a great shonen series, especially if it has snazzy art and a great hook, so I decided to check out two recent debuts: Black Torch and Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaba, both of which draw inspiration from Japanese folklore.

Black Torch, Vol. 1
Story and Art by Tsuyoshi Takaki
VIZ Media, 200 pp.
Rated Teen+, for older teens (violence)

Black Torch suffers from an unusual problem: it has a terrific introductory chapter with emotionally resonant scenes, followed by two chapters that seem stale in comparison.

The opening pages introduce us to Jiro Azuma, a sensitive young man who has an unusual talent: he can hear animals’ thoughts. At the urging of his childhood dog, Jiro uses his gift to help animals in need, whether it’s a crow hassled by people or a kitten trapped in a tree. A chance encounter with a wounded mononoke, however, turns his life upside down, pitting him against his grandfather, a ninja with serious monster-hunting skillz. Alas, the revelation that gramps belonged to the Oniwabanshu, a top-secret government agency that kills demons, pushes the story in a more obvious, less interesting direction. These scenes hit all-too-familiar beats as the bureau’s mission and personnel are fleshed out, one antagonistic exchange at a time. Only the fight sequences provide relief from these info-dump conversations; they’re briskly choreographed affairs, notable both for their inventive use of perspective and sparing use of screen tone, speed lines, and sound effects. The same crisp, minimalist approach informs the character designs, giving Black Torch a distinctive look that’s not fully matched by its Tokyo Ghoul-by-way-of-Bleach plotting. Your mileage may vary.

Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba, Vol. 1
Story and Art by Koyoharu Gotouge
VIZ Media, 192 pp.
Rated Teen, for readers 13 and up (fantasy violence)

Demon Slayer‘s plot is set in motion by a tragedy: the hero returns home from an errand only to discover that a demon slaughtered his family. One sibling clings to life but shows signs of becoming a demon herself, putting Tanjiro in a terrible bind: should he kill her now, or risk being killed in a week, a month or a year when her transformation is complete? Though the series’ dark tone feels au courant, in keeping with Jump Plus titles like Fire Punch, Koyoharu Gotouge’s line work and character designs are pleasingly retro, the kind of art you might have found in a Reagan-era issue of Weekly Shonen Jump. Gotouge’s bodies and heads are sometimes a little awkwardly drawn, and his demons too obviously fashioned from screen tone, but the artwork’s lack of polish makes Tanjiro seem more vulnerable when confronting monsters that are bigger, meaner, and more cunning than he is. I’m not sure that Demon Slayer is headed anywhere new, but Tanjiro is the kind of hero I’d like to see more often: a frightened but determined character who seems like a real person confronting the impossible, rather than a resolutely optimistic kid whose pluck carries the day. Recommended.

Dr. Stone Volumes 3 and 4 by Riicharo Inagaki and Boichi

Dr. Stone’s premise of a post apocalyptic world where the heroes have to invent their way back to human civilization while battling factions of Luddites is much more of a higher concept than one tends to get in shone series, and so far I’ve been enjoying seeing how Senku attempts to invent his way out of sticky situations. In volume 3, the cast of characters for Dr. Stone expands as Senku stumbles across a small village of people who are to him, the missing manpower ingredient need to power even more ambitious science experiments.

He meets Kohaku, the daughter of the village chief who promptly becomes an ally when she realizes that the power of science might save her sister and tribe shamaness Ruri from a terminal illness. Chrome is another villager who is a self-styled sorcerer due to knowledge gained from his own scientific experiments and rudimentary mineral and chemical gathering. With allies in place, Senku decides to build a new “Kingdom of Science” and power his inventions even further out of the stone age, in an attempt to get in a better place to deal with threat posed by the anti-science Tsukasa. The villagers are naturally extremely suspicious of the newcomer, but Senku has a unique solution in the form of food science. He decides to reinvent ramen in order to woo people to his side.

The village brings with it extra drama, as Senku races through inventing electricity, iron, and glass in order to have a functional chemistry lab to produce medicine, Kokaku has to worry about the battle for Riri’s hand in marriage that will determine the next village chief. Her friends prepare to fight to save Riri from the thuggish Magma. Even Senku’s ability to synthesize energy drinks might not be much of a help in a bracket-style fighting tournament that will decide Riri’s future. These two volumes were plenty diverting with the struggles of recreating inventions full of dynamic adventures, but I can’t help but wonder what on earth Taiju is up to! Hopefully in the next few volumes Senku’s expanded science team will come together again.

Komi Can’t Communicate Volume 1 by Tomohito Oda

I tend to be a little leery of shonen comedies, but I found Komi Can’t Communicate both amusing and endearing. I think in general I tend to have better luck with Shonen Sunday series like this one as opposed to Shonen Jump titles. Komi Can’t Communicate is told though the point of view of Tadano, a timid freshman who just wants to get through high school without standing out too much after some disastrous attempts to distinguish himself in junior high. However, as is fairly typical for any manga protagonist wanting a normal high school life, this doesn’t end up happening.

He meets his classmate Komi, who is held up as the class princess due to her beauty and aloof nature. But as he encounters her by the lockers and in the classroom, Tadano begins to realize that she’s not silent because she’s stuck up, she actually has a psychological condition that prevents her from talking to people. They find a fairly adorable workaround by having a conversation through writing on the chalkboard, and Tadano vows to help Komi achieve the goal of having 100 friends. This unfortunately means that Tadano is going to have to ramp up his own social skills if he’s going to serve as a friendship wingman to a girl who is having such difficulty with verbal communication.

I enjoyed the way Oda’s art showed Komi’s body language as she struggles to get through school, with her poses that could be mistaken for snobbishness or extreme social terror at the same time. She also sometimes reverts into wide-eyed chibi mode when something happens that is particularly alarming. In their quest for friendship Tadano and Komi meet Najimi, a classmate who appears to be gender fluid, but who is a totally social butterfly and the most popular person in school. While enduring the awkwardness of high school creates plenty of comedic situations, I thought that the first volume of Komi Can’t Communicate actually had a great deal of heart, which made it much more fun for me to read than a comedy that’s more mean-spirited. It’ll be interesting to see what happens with Tadano and Komi at their extremely quirky high school.

Dr. Stone Volumes 5 and 6 by Riichiro Inagaki and Boichi

Dr. Stone’s science-infused shonen post-apocalyptic story continues to be amusing. The fifth volume works through the shonen staple of a tournament fight in order to decide the chieftain of the small village that Senku intends to use to build his Kingdom of Science. There are opportunities to expound on the benefits of optics in battle, both for improving eyesight and setting things on fire. The tournament doesn’t last overly long though, and Senku turns his attention back to manufacturing basic antibiotics in order to save the life of Kohaku’s sister.

I was glad to see this series take more of a detour into the backstory of the event where everyone turned into stone, with an appearance by Senku’s father who was an astronaut. The decisions he made up in space during the event ended up ensuring that Senku would find allies once he woke up. The contrast between a crew of castaway astronauts living in Senku’s past and building the idea of oral traditions with Senku’s contemporary science-based approach was interesting. The looming possibility of conflict between Senku’s Kingdom of Science and Tsukasa’s growing empire continues, as a raiding party attacks and Senku’s allies narrowly escape. Boichi’s art is always dynamic, but I particularly enjoyed the scenes in this volume where a poisonous wind is portrayed as a terrifying giant looming over the landscape. Occasionally seeing the characters portrayed as tiny against the immense backdrop of nature just brings to home how difficult it is to cobble together a society with only a few resources.

I’m still getting more impatient for another appearance by Taiju, but I’m hoping as Senku and Tsubasa race towards an epic confrontation he shows up again. This is still a fun series because I never know what type of invention will be featured next, and Senku’s cerebral enthusiasm makes him an entertaining shonen protagonist for anyone wanting a slightly different slant on fight scenes.

Most books about the manga industry fall into one of two categories: the how-to book, which offers advice on how to draw proportionate characters, plan a storyboard, and buy the right pens; and the how-I-became-an-artist story, which charts the emotional ups and downs of breaking into the manga biz. The Right Way to Make Jump takes a different approach, pulling back the curtain on the production process.

Our guide to the manga-making process is Takeshi Sakurai, a spazzy, anxiety-ridden thirty-year-old who traded his dreams of becoming a professional manga-ka for a more predictable, less demanding life as an onigiri chef. Out of the blue, Sakurai receives a call from his former editor Momiyaxx-san about a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to “create a non-fiction manga” that explains “how Jump is made.” After much hand-wringing and angst—and a friendly nudge from his cheerful, patient wife—Sakurai accepts the assignment, embarking on a series of factory tours and interviews to learn the nuts-and-bolts of publishing an issue of Weekly Jump. His odyssey takes him to a paper mill at the foot of Mt. Fuji, the editors’ bullpen at Shueisha headquarters, and VIZ’s corporate office in San Francisco, where Sakurai gets a first-hand look at how Jump is localized for different markets.

The book is cheekily divided into ten “arcs,” each of which focuses on a specific production step. The most interesting sections focus on the manufacturing process, explaining why Jump uses colored paper and how the magazines are cut, assembled, and bound. For readers who love the Discovery Channel—and I count myself among them—these early chapters are a blast, as they are studded with weird, wonderful facts about paper and machinery. (Among the most interesting: Jump paper dust plays an important role in Tokyo’s sewage treatment program.) The later chapters, by contrast, are less effective, as the editorial staff’s answers to potentially interesting questions are couched in polite, vague language that offers little insight into what they do; you’d be forgiven for rolling your eyes when a Jump staffer offers an essentialist justification for not hiring female editors, or chalks up the order of each issue to ‘intuition.’

Where The Right Way really shines is in Sakurai’s use of clever visual analogies to help the reader grasp the most  intricate parts of the manufacturing process. In “Platemaking,” for example, Sakurai creates a muscle-bound figure who represents the resin plate, a key element in the printing process:

The figure’s transformation neatly embodies the basic principles of creating a positive from a negative by comparing the process to suntanning—something that readers of all ages can relate to from personal experience.

As informative as such passages are, The Right Way can be a frustrating reading experience. Some chapters are briskly executed, achieving a good balance between education and entertainment, while others focus too much on slapstick humor, unfunny exchanges between Sakurai and Momiyaxx-san, and shameless plugs for Weekly Jump. Sakurai’s sardonic tone—expertly captured by translator Emily Taylor—helps mitigate some of these issues, but can’t always goose the tempo when Sakurai frets and fumes about meeting his deadlines; joking about your own shortcomings can be an effective strategy for ingratiating yourself to the reader, but not when you’re using those jokes to pad your weekly page count.

The overall structure of the book, too, leaves something to be desired. Though the first chapters focus on how the magazine is printed, the later chapters tackle a seemingly random selection of topics—Jump Festa, recycled paper stock, cover design, reader contests—suggesting that no one anticipated how long The Right Way would run in Weekly Jump. A topic-of-the-week approach is fine when readers wait for each new installment, but it makes for a chaotic, sometimes repetitive reading experience when collected in a single volume. The most logical strategy for organizing the tankubon edition would have been to start with the editorial process and end with the printing; not only does sequential presentation have obvious explanatory value, it also lends the material a compelling narrative arc, something that The Right Way to Make Jump sorely lacks.

Despite these shortcomings, I’d still recommend The Right Way to Make Jump, as it offers an all-too-rare glimpse of manga publishing’s less glamorous aspects, highlighting the contributions of professionals whose efficiency, creativity, and diligence have made Weekly Jump into a global phenomenon.

THE RIGHT WAY TO MAKE JUMP • ART AND STORY BY TAKESHI SAKURAI • TRANSLATED BY EMILY TAYLOR • VIZ MEDIA • 208 pp. • RATED T, FOR TEENS

Jujutsu Kaisen Volume 1 by Gege Akutami

Fending off supernatural threats is a shonen staple, so how does Jujutsu Kaisen stack up? It very much felt like an early effort from a mangaka, which it is, but the first volume has a few flashes of humor and a central premise that is both disgusting and entertaining.

Yuji Itadori is a teenager who enjoys hanging out with the occult club despite his superhuman strength and speed. He’s being targeted for his athletic abilities by the track coach, but manages to maintain his new supernatural hobby by winning a bet about his shot put abilities. Megumi Fushiguro, a student from another school with actual occult abilities, is investigating the presence of a cursed object when he encounters Yuji and his new friends. It turns out that the occult club has gotten their hands on an artifact that is actually quite cursed, and Yuji and Megumi have to team up to save his friends from demonic destruction. Along the way, Yuji casually eats a demonic finger in order to get cursed energy to fend off the evil spirits. This ends up giving Yuji a semi-manageable case of spirit possession, but also makes him useful to demon hunters because he’s basically a walking container for cursed objects, as long as he eats them. There’s a particular demon who is the source of the cursed digits, and Yuji is going to join a team hunting down the relics of the evil Sakuna.

The art throughout this volume is serviceable but a bit rough, there’s little mobility in the characters’ facial expressions and while the action scenes are easy to follow they’d be a lot more entertaining with some shifts in perspective or more dynamic paneling. I’m curious to see if the art improves more as the series continues to develop. The demons do look appropriately freaky and scary.

Yuji’s motivations for fighting demons are introduced with a lack of subtly. Then again, I guess one does not expect delicately and subtle plot points from a Shonen Jump manga. There were a few moments that I thought were hilarious enough to be engaging. When Yuji is figuring out how many digits he is going to have to consume, the total number is high due to a surprising reason which is tossed off in casual conversation. I also enjoyed Yuji’s low-key approach to performing dramatic physical feats. The end of the volume sets up the new occult fighting team and their sparsely populated high school that has a curriculum dedicated to fighting evil, and it’ll be interesting to see how that develops. Ultimately this first volume reminded me that sometimes one has to give a manga two volumes before deciding to follow a series or not, and that is what I’ll be doing with Jujutsu Kaisen.

Blue Flag Volume 1 by KAITO

It is fair to say that I read plenty of manga, but now and then I read a series that is just so well executed that it feels incredibly refreshing. I knew Blue Flag had plenty of fans, and I was excited to read it when I heard that it was licensed, but my high expectations were surpassed by the first volume.

The volume opens with some character introductions that remind most readers of standard characters, but the insightful look into Taichi’s inner thoughts as he starts a new school year plays against readers expecting something more stereotypical. Taichi has a small friend group, who all look like they came out of a shonen playbook of nerd 101. He’s fairly content with remaining under the radar at school, but something quickly breaks him out of his usual routine. Taichi’s elementary school friend Toma is going to be in Taichi’s class for the first time in several years. Taichi and Toma are opposites in many ways. Taichi is short and has hair that seems to defy any grooming attempt. Toma is tall, athletic, and extremely popular, but his effortless way of making friends is the result of him being genuinely nice rather than anything overly calculated. Taichi’s friends consider Toma to be a different species than them, and are mystified that Toma keeps popping up to keep randomly talk to Taichi even though Taichi claims that they aren’t close anymore.

Taichi seems to have a special kind of antipathy to Futuba Kuze, a girl in his class who is painfully shy and clumsy. He starts to realize that he’s reminded of his own failings when he looks at her, because she’s similar to him. After an incredibly awkward chance encounter in the library, Futuba asks Taichi for advice because she has a crush on Toma. He thinks that any help he would provide would be useless, but she’s incredibly determined, following up with any random reference that Taichi tosses out. Eventually Taichi agrees to serve as Futuba’s spectacularly uninformed tutor in the ways of teen romance. Taichi is brutally realistic with Futuba about her chances of attracting Toma, but she’s not fazed by the idea that she isn’t his type. Eventually Taichi and Futuba strike up an odd friendship as he keeps trying to draw her in to his usual interactions with Toma. Blue Flag is invested with a ton of emotional resonance as the characters investigate childhood games, deal with homework, and share memories. Futuba explains to Taichi that one of the reasons she’s been nursing a crush towards Toma is that when he accidentally knocked down her plant in the school garden with a stray baseball, he returned every day until it was healthy again.

Towards the end of the volume, the reader gets a sense of what is actually happening in Toma’s head and the realization that the love story that’s unfolding is going to be much more complex and surprising than one would think. Blue Flag rewards the re-reader, who will be able to go back and detect hints in the body language and attitudes of the characters. This is by far one of the most promising shonen series I’ve read in a long time, and the focus on the emotional complexity of teenage live reminded me a bit of Cross Game. I highly recommend Blue Flag, and I’m impatiently waiting for the next volume.