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"Solanin" is my third contact with the works of Inio Asano, and it still manages to be a manga that exudes novelty and expresses an authorial style that has matured over the years: by proposing to the reader the presentation of events, ideas, and themes that are related to processes and psychosocial phenomena mostly common to Japanese young adults (such as conformism; entering the executive workplace; the prospects for personal growth in an economy that has been stagnant for 30 years, with sturdy deflation, and an aging society; the transition to adulthood in oppressive, hyperdynamic urban environments), Asano realizes a brutal realism in both aesthetics ... and narrative in order to ensure a substantial degree of viscerality to his work and produce the reader's identification and empathy with his story. The famous feeling of "he is just like me fr!!!".

However, "Solanin" crosses the relatability barrier and establishes itself as a mature slice of life with the ability to reach the most intimate insecurities of its target audience and generate great discussions. About this realistic approach, a preliminary observation: in one of the reviews of this manga, the user "ChouEritto" comments that the slice of life genre is "inherently flawed when not having an additional element added to have it stand out from the crowd" and brings examples like Planetes and Haibane Renmei - to a certain extent, he is correct.

Just cutting out a portion of time and space of one or more individuals without more "fantasy" aspects, responsible for delivering an engaging narrative, seems dull. However, beyond all the discussions that can be started on this subject, suffice it to say that Solanin's proposal is not confabulation: the author wants to discuss openly, with all possible sincerity, the topics that afflict a significant portion of the world's population.


A DISCUSSION ABOUT REALITY
To accomplish this discussion, Asano achieves the feat of exposing and making public the intimacy of his characters, exploring individualities as complex existences with their own longings, perspectives, certainties, and uncertainties that are inserted in a society that models them and represses their possibilities. In this context, the duo formed by Meiko and Naruto gains prominence by presenting a series of relatable questions and dilemmas regarding the future and love relationships, without losing sight of each character's characterization. In other terms, the cast not only serves as the author's tool to drive his themes about the pressures of a rigid social order, but are ambiguous and, above all, human characters.

In "Solanin", this external or self-imposed oppression is presented textually: there are lines and more lines of dialogues and monologues that gradually transmit the world view of each character about the most varied themes, personal or collective (regrets, the organizational structure of labor, the importance of financial stability, the human relationship with money, etc.). The texts are rich, sincere, and without major dramatizations about real and everyday problems, characteristics that make up the mentioned realism (as an example, there is Naruo's relationship with his father and Kotani's "old-fashioned" comments). While in other works this social aspect is lost, as in "Garden of Words" (which has converging themes), "Solanin" demonstrates a concern to discuss based on Japanese material reality.


A DISTANT CLOSENESS
Especially regarding the soliloquies, the first problem may arise. Perhaps due to the short size of the manga, the author was compelled to present the feelings more pragmatically and directly, appearing through the repetition of the literary resource of transcribing the thoughts of the framed character. Even if this narrative instrument is in harmony with Asano's approach, the monologues can tire the reader, either by (i) being too constant or (ii) occupying large portions of the frames, hindering the appreciation of the visuals.

However, I believe that this feature does not tire precisely because (i) the manga is short, constituting a quick read, and (ii) this aspect is compensated by a stable non-verbal narrative, with a sensitive arrangement of elements, angles, and visual rhymes. Examples of this non-verbal quality include the allusion to Ritsuko's backstory in only one "secondary" frame, an efficient (but rather indiscreet) metaphor with the manga's opening image, and the arrangement of objects in the scene.

In this aspect of Asano's art, photorealism is present as backgrounds and a more restrained character design that avoids certain visual archetypes. Unlike "Oyasumi Punpun" and "Nijigahara Holograph", the author presents rigid and tight frames without a great diversity of angles, which amplify the intimacy of the narrative and bring the reader closer to the events, besides reinforcing the general idea of a slice of life (a specific cutout of the time and space of specific people).

This claustrophobia accompanies all the chapters, reinforcing the author's thesis about such phenomena as loneliness, personal imprisonment, and the smallness of life. In other words, all the art is in harmony with the narrative most of the time, including the disruptive moments of ecstasy/climax, in which the drawings fill the entire page. As a side note, the Brazilian version of "Solanin" enhances this sense of closeness by being in a 17.6 cm X 10.6 cm format. Unfortunately, this format detracts from the appreciation of the details Asano draws.


A LITTLE SLIP
Up to this point, "Solanin" seems to be a very cohesive manga in approach, and it is very well organized and well executed. However, in this work, it is possible to observe a characteristic of the author that gained strength later in "Oyasumi Punpun": the presence of overly dramatic events or conflicts, which develop into real human tragedies. Without a spoiler comment, I am referring to the events that occur at the end of volume one. Even if there is contextual support that underlies the events and their unfolding, and even if this episode is revisited by the script so that, little by little, the reader understands even more about the situation, the main event at the end of the first part seems to be out of tune with the whole rest of the work.

In comparison to the previous and subsequent events, which explore everyday life at a slow pace, this event breaks with the overall tone of the project in favor of structuring a dramatic turning point. As said before, a slice of life without the addition of other elements can bore the reader, so Asano found this way out. Again, even though it makes sense with the rest of the manga, the drama aspect of "Solanin" is greatly impaired because of this event, and no other event compares to the end of the first volume in dramatic terms.


OTHERS NOTES
- yes, I cried.
- the moments when Asano fills the whole page with his drawings are so meaningful and beautiful.
- It's a very humorous manga, even if the themes are relatively difficult to follow.


CONCLUSION
Above any problems or flaws generated by Inio Asano's authorship, "Solanin" is a manga to be read and enjoyed, being a solid work that uses relatability and identification to produce essential reflections and discussions in its target audience from an ideal harmony between aesthetics, narrative, and themes.

In fact, "Ao Haru Ride," written by Sakisaka Io for Bessatsu Margaret, is my first reading experience with a manga categorized generically as "shoujo". Even though this demographic division is vague and has little to do with the genres, visuals, and themes (since the "demographics" of the manga depend solely on the magazine it is being serialized in), I had general expectations of Sakisaka's work: a sugary romantic comedy between teenagers in high school, with its story formed by related youth drama and a narrative/thematic drive structured from cis-heteronormative conceptions about the idea of affective relationships, with a focus on the contrast between female delicacy ... and male virility.

To some extent, I am glad I was wrong. These characteristics listed above, formed by a personal ignorance resulting from a cultural repertoire focused on the consumption of "boys' series", are not fully realized throughout the manga, and the author manages to deliver good subversions regarding the notions of gender roles and social relations by using a main cast of characters sufficiently charismatic and efficient to the central proposal. Unfortunately, "Aoharaido" loses many of its qualities even in the first third of the chapters in favor of developing an entirely uninteresting and repetitive story that undermines a potentially enjoyable experience.


BEFORE THE BLUE SPRING
Being a relatively short manga by the standards of shoujo magazines, it is slightly strange to the reader to notice that the first significant section of the work (~15 chapters) is very efficient in everything. The author manages to characterize her characters and establish the central goals/problems in a short period, as well as to conduct the story with a series of events that are sometimes captivating or relatable, occasionally interesting, or with the promise of conflict. It is a compact set of chapters that present the best that "Ao Haru Ride" has to offer, such as the charismatic energy of Futaba with her faces and mouths, the comicalness of everyday situations, and the progressive development of the main couple.

Among other highlights, the central contrast between the personal versions assumed by Futaba and Kou in high school with their images and personalities in middle school is presented to comment critically on certain stigmas, social pressures, and stereotypes that circulate not only the ideas of man and woman but also the expectations about a school romantic comedy. For example, with this subversion, the author presents an everyday physical closeness between the characters that naturalizes the relationship and makes it more palatable to the reader. In another example, the purposeful absence of any "sweetness" in some of Futaba's actions and reactions denotes a greater naturalness of the character and ensures good interactions. However, these and other positive points do not last forever and are quickly erased by certain questionable decisions, at a minimum.

Even in this initial stage, certain textual and narrative elements damage the light tone evoked by the manga and the work as a pleasant experience. At first, the reader can observe some harmless aspects: even though the characters are well-delineated in their concepts and narrative roles, the lack of dramatic arcs with a explicit and more interesting temporal distribution is evident. To the extent that this first part of the manga is hyper-focused on Futaba and Kou's relationship, the rest of the cast loses space and their motivations/interests, which are curtail by the school approach, lack charisma, conditions that drain promising characters. Another factor that may cause strangeness is the application of the kishotenketsu narrative model within each chapter and between sequential chapters: even when considering some narrative structures from part of Japanese literature, such as the re-signification of "conflict" and the proper approach in presenting disruptive information to the reader, the manga "Ao Haru Ride" is inefficient in the arrangement of the events of the plot, often beginning/ending situations and themes abruptly and without substantial internal results to the manga itself.

In a certain way, these elements can be easily ignored if the reader chooses to stick to the engaging events that happen sporadically. However, one point must be highlighted: the threat of sexual violence (specifically rape) against one character. This fact results, among other things, from the author's perception of the intimate and social boundaries of a person "in love" and her ability to discern between the weighty talk and comical/satirical comments of her "problematic" partner. It would be not a problem to raise this conduct to criticize similar situations that affect men and especially women who find themselves trapped in a toxic relationship. No, the author decides to make the female character on screen CONCORD WITH THE ACT and still emulate a romantic/erotic scenario. Because of this, the narrative consequence of this threat is practically nil, causing the more attentive reader, who has noticed similar conduct throughout the manga, to distance themselves from the characters. And yet, even setting aside questions of morality or materiality of this kind of violence in real life, what is the function or benefit that the representation of this scenario will bring to readers who will be mostly young girls? What does the romanticization of a rape threat convey to young readers?

These and other problems create an uncompensated, slow pace, with a superficiality of the characters/events, and the partial obliteration of a sense of levity. Still, with its ups and downs, the manga delivers a reasonable development during the first part, pleasing the reader and fulfilling its central premise. So, if the work has concluded (almost) everything important, why are there ~35 more chapters? I honestly don't know. In fact, the progressive decay of "Ao Haru Ride" starts from here.


THE ETERNAL BLUE SPRING RIDE
This manga's decline happened in two very distinct stages: the first, through transitional chapters, was responsible for returning the plot to its primordial state; the second stage crystallized everything else. In the interest of avoiding spoilers, it is sufficient to comment that there is an extensive arc that inserts new characters into the plot, subverts a certain standard romance, and comments again on themes and discussions that were in the process of being concluded. Above any interesting developments the author might offer, the story sounds repetitive and stagnant, with one or another chapter that introduces something new (but which is quickly resolved or ignored). Very little relevance happens over many chapters that add little to the author's critical comments.

Just as an example: in the plot, a situation occurs that narratively oppresses Futaba and reshapes the way she sees herself, people, and the world around her. A series of captivating themes are presented, such as the processes of disillusionment and acceptance when we are young, and our willingness or ability to adapt to collective contexts. I think these are good themes that produce great comments from the author about social isolation and self-acceptance. However, all this content is diluted in so many banal events with no effective result that its semantic potency barely reaches the readers, perhaps, especially the younger ones. It becomes difficult to appreciate the work in any other way than as a convoluted novel with little to say.

As for the second stage of the decline, since the entire development has been crystallized by endlessly repeating the same problems in every chapter, the manga becomes a big waste of time if the reader cannot get attached to the characters. In fact, it is a curious scenario: while a certain relationship cannot be characterized as a romance due to some dubious attitudes of the characters, another relationship purposely denies itself to be a romance but endures as one for much longer than necessary. In these chapters, one finds a narrative uninspired in presenting any minimally interesting discussion or event, and they don't even work as a "reward" for the situations the characters have been through.

Due to the lack of spoiler, I didn't comment much. But it is clear that the manga has taken on a redundant, monotonous tone that causes the reader to become disinterested in the events and wears down a story that already has few hits.


OTHER NOTES
- The art style and frames are quite effective in conveying the subtlety of the relationships and the intimacy of the characters, most notably the chibi version which I find funny;
- Yuri, Murao, Makita, and Tanaka are completely wasted;
- I register my complete dislike for Touma.


CONCLUSION
Unfortunately, my experience with "Ao Haru Ride" was not pleasant. Even while acknowledging certain values and content presented by Sakisaka Io, there is a multitude of structural problems in script, narrative and tonal approach that turn the manga into a mediocre and uninspired work, offering a lukewarm experience. Overall, it is worth reading if the reader wants to get to know a very popular manga and has some free time, without setting high expectations for the content of the work.

As a manga, "Kotonoha no Niwa" is a completely harmless and even inferior work to the cinematic wrapper presented by Makoto Shinkai in the original anime. In attempting to adapt a 46 min animation that has consistency in its visuals, themes, and pacing, the manga fails to efficiently establish the dramatic aspects that the story demands, mainly due to Midori Motohashi's artistic insufficiency in conveying the essence of the material to the reader.

To a certain extent, the manga manages to maintain a slow narrative rhythm that prioritizes the subtlety of the relationship developed between Yukari and Takao, with a very intimate approach through frames and ... visual organizations that invade and make public the characters' intimacy. Because the premise is founded on sensitive and casual encounters, this slowness elevates the importance of these sporadic events by prolonging the development of the facts, as well as favoring the feelings of contemplation and isolation that are part of the work.

In general, with a slow pace and closed frames on the characters and/or details of the environment, the manga also does not innovate regarding the themes presented in the original animation: human processes such as maturing, overcoming/accepting socially imposed conditions and perspectives for the future are well outlined and verbalized along the dramatic arcs of the main characters. If, on one hand, there is subtlety in showing the relationship between Yukari and Takao, on the other, the work is very objective in showing the reader its themes and respective considerations. In fact, the absence of other characters produces a sterility of subjects, even if it is adequate to the premise.

However, it becomes valid to comment that, due to the isolation tone that comes from the primordial concept of the manga (two people interacting in a park, isolated from the world), all the social and personal problems developed are part of a particular human clipping that does not dialogue with Japan's socioeconomic scenarios. For example, how do Takao's aspirations conflict with the economic-financial and professional career perspective of Japanese young adults? How do material conditions of existence delimit Takao's possibilities of choice and Yukari's chances of change/adaptation? Even if it is not a demerit of the work not to raise human issues that go through the innermost of each character, the lack of these questions hinders a more significant enrichment of the manga.

In truth, this lukewarm narrative approach that favors the intimacy of the characters could work insofar as this is a short, objective, and sincere work with its topics, sufficient to adapt Makoto's animation. However, the main problem with Midori Motohashi's art becomes evident: mediocre character design and drawing techniques that detract from the reader's experience. In this sense, it's not a matter of whether an art style is "ugly" or "attractive," but whether the structuring of the visuals succeeds in ordering the ideas and feelings that the narrative intends to convey to the reader. For example, it is a fundamental part of the premise that the characters have a considerable age difference - yet Yukari's design does not convey the maturity that the character should exude, a condition that affects part of the proposition. Another great example is the lack of detail in the production of the scenarios, especially regarding the lighting of the scenes and one of the central elements of the work: the rain. Again, efficient art is not that which prioritizes realism in the strokes and scene compositions - but in this manga, the absence of considerable finesse and visual richness obstructs a narrative experience that seeks intimacy and contemplation of events. For comparison purposes, the manga "Koi wa Ameagari no You ni" shares narrative and thematic structures with "The Garden of Words" but manages to establish a good mood by depicting the natural elements of each scene (especially the rain) and presenting the characters' intimacy.

Overall, the manga adaptation of "Kotonoha no Niwa" is, at best, mediocre. Even with a reasonable plot that engages the reader, the work is weakened due to an uninspired visual identity and the gradual loss of its subtlety in dramatic development. Since it is a short manga, it may be worth a quick and casual read, without major expectations regarding the content to be contemplated.

In case the reader knows or has heard about other manga written by Shuuzou Oshimi, such as "Aku no Hana" or "Chi no Wadachi", it is easy to foresee how the connection between themes and narrative will occur in "Happiness": by using a visceral approach about the psychological processes of the human being and how these internal conditions express themselves and conflict with the external environment, the author intends to argue that the human psyche is an almost instinctive condition, natural and, therefore, uncontrollable to a certain degree. To present his vision on these themes, Shuuzou Oshimi chose to tell a suspenseful horror story about ... vampires through a "post-impressionist" artistic composition that values abstract sensations and emotions through efficient techniques of contrast and detail.

But how did the author execute his work? Did he manage to convey his ideals? The main problem of "Happiness" is not the quality of its arguments or visual presentation but the author's inability to transmit his ideas.


DO YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY?
In response to the above questions, the author provides the following afterword in Volume 10:

(The following excerpt is a translation of the text present in the Brazilian version):
"I started it [the manga] with the desire to make an 'ensemble cast'; where instead of focusing on the psychological development of the protagonist, I sought to portray different psyches of different characters and the complex interactions between them.

As the story progressed, I feel that the theme changed from 'illness and death' to 'isolation from society'. And with that came the question: what is happiness for those who have been excluded? Or more: what is happiness for those who were born with socially unfavorable conditions, being innocent victims of unjustly caused wounds?"

In the initial stages of building the scenarios and interactions involving the main characters, the reader follows the physical and emotional intimacy of Makoto (the protagonist) during a series of physiological and sensory changes arising from his encounter with Nora. There is a progressive structuring of the protagonist's interests and material conditions while the author presents a sense of hopelessness about his main character's new desires and possible psychosocial consequences of his actions.

The first four volumes of the work are consistent in working through a series of events that gradually build up a complex tangle of relationships between different cores of characters. Even if the reader follows Makoto's experiences more closely, there is room to introduce different environments and characters. At the same time and due to this diversity of scenes, the author manages to include brief personal comments on some overarching themes such as perversity, sexuality, violence, sociability, affection, empathy, and self-acceptance that echo throughout the manga, in internal plot events, and dramatic approaches and character arcs.

For instance, Oshimi efficiently presents Makoto's uncomfortable situation in the first chapter and, besides offering a palpable dramatic context, provides allusions that will be addressed later. In this sense, I find it interesting how the author handled this discomfort of the protagonist with his family configuration: if at home he suffered constant comparisons with his brother, giving a sense of not belonging that is reinforced by the plot's events, it is nice to observe a continuous and syncretic process between self-determination and family welcoming, with emphasis on the stagnant and "melancholic hope" feelings evoked around Ms. Ozakai (the protagonist's mother). This thematic approach is by far the most solid in the manga - it is even present in other characters, such as Yuki and Nao.

Ironically with the name "Happiness", the work is filled with, among other feelings, an irremediable melancholy, intrinsic to the unsatisfied nature of human beings. Therefore, there is a uniform tone between the events, even if they are joyful and hopeful moments concerning the characters' conditions. This melancholic tone is well incorporated into the manga so that the narrative situations, motivations, and consequences are fluid and natural within the internal systematics of the work, this tonal approach being adequate to the themes proposed by the author.

However, as the first half of the manga progresses, the reader can see the following picture: even though there is an efficient integration between the narrative and literary arguments, the author tends to position his themes as tangential to the plot. While the reader follows a cool story about a boy learning to connect with his new self, subtle themes like death, social discomfort, incompatibilities, and self-acceptance gradually lose strength in favor of running only the objective text of the plot, which demonstrates an unpolished structure and inability to tie interesting events together.

As a result, the subtext of the work weakens and the author focuses his efforts on creating interesting situations focused on suspense. So how did he do in this transition process?


HOW DO YOU WANT TO BE HAPPY?
The aforementioned transition from a contemplative and thematically organized story to a suspenseful plot could work - being a very short work, the author has handled his themes in a purposefully vague manner, which allows him to put more effort into building intricate events while leaving it to the subjectivity of each reader to interpret his thesis. And indeed, the first half of the manga operates this way, turning the work into a much more sensory experience.

However, and as can be observed if you read other reviews, Oshimi chooses to abruptly interrupt the chain of events and imposes on the reader a new point of view within the story. This transition could be cool to revamp the plot, which had a big climax and was in the process of concluding for certain characters. However, the author accomplishes this process in such an abrupt and clueless manner that the reader has the impression that there was a lack of planning; as if Oshimi realized the exhaustion of the plot and decided to extend it at the last minute.

Again, this transition could work and renew the series into a thriller with moments of horror and action, but unfortunately, it fails to provide reasonable justifications for the new events and conflicts. Since this review has no spoilers, the examples below will be described vaguely and broadly.

For example, the reader follows Yuki's dramatic arc. At first, the author correlates Yuki's dissatisfaction with Makoto's discomfort and produces a good contrast between the intimate and social conditions of each. Another effect of this contrast is the set of choices and consequences endured by each character. These and other arrangements are conveyed to the reader with an artistic composition that oozes sensoriality, with good notions of volume, lighting, and sound (yes). However, in the second half of the manga, all this structure is lost and gives way to a very uninteresting plot concerning what was developing before.

Another example is Makoto himself. As much as the construction of his character is only reasonable and his motivations are acceptable to a certain degree until the first half of the manga, the reader observes a complete crystallization of Makoto's development. Of course, there is an internal justification for this, which is only challenged in the final stretch of the manga. But due to the order of events after the second half of the work, this narrative method has generated such a great distancing between reader and character that all the events involving Makoto lose a lot of importance and even charisma. These aspects of stagnation and perpetuity speak to the ending of the work, but at what cost? To transform the character into just a possible concept to be interpreted?

In this perspective, the author presents great indecision in working with "concept-characters" or "character-characters", a great example being the character Nora. Certainly, she is only an instrument, like a MacGuffin, who breaks the plot's inertia and motivates the central character, but is absent most of the time. In a more contemplative story, it would not be a problem for Nora to exist in this way - however, and in a misplaced chapter, to say the least, Oshimi imposes on himself the need to explain the character as if the work needed this, and has failed to produce any internal results within the manga in the process.

This doubt of the author in which concepts and justifications he will present is completely dysfunctional: Oshimi chooses to explain a character that does not demand it but ignores the need to substantiate certain central events and contexts. It is not a matter of demanding internal logic in a vampire tale, but rather the expectation that the author will organize the plot's events in a fluid and concatenated manner that will not alienate the reader from the manga.

Even though it still features beautiful art, the manga suffers from this thematic hollowing out in favor of telling a tepid and tedious story that fails to convey the author's comments on the issues mentioned in the afterword.


OTHER NOTES
- I LOVE Yukiko Gosho, being by far the most charismatic character in the entire manga.
- The art techniques are beautiful and indispensable to the enjoyment of the story, but the frame's composition is not that diverse and there is considerable repetition of the same structure.
- As much as I enjoy the last few pages of the final chapter, the penultimate chapter is my favorite because of its narrative rhythm. The final chapter is completely out of place with the events that were unfolding.
- I enjoy the beginning of the second half of the manga, even if afterward there are many problems in the unfolding of the plot.
- There are other comments to be made regarding the themes of the first half, but I intended to make a shorter review.


CONCLUSION
Even with a reasonable and charming beginning that has a great capacity to generate interesting discussions with a stunning artistic approach, "Happiness" becomes just a lukewarm suspense story without major themes or comments efficiently conducted by the author. In general, because it is a condensed work, it is up to each person to read this manga. Certainly, the reader will have a much more sensorial and contemplative experience, without major reflections or new perspectives on any subject whatsoever. In case you are bored and have no other manga on your list, it is worth checking it out without any expectations.

During the first contact, "Kimi no Iru Machi" seemed like a model manga regarding the themes, creative processes, and decision-making of a mangaka aimed at the shounen demography of the Heisei Era in the mid-2000s: in a few pages, the work skillfully condenses signs common to a rom-com manga (high school settings, attachment to youth, love triangles, childhood friendships, etc.) that contains a strong presence of ecchi, with a focus on the sexualization of the female characters. Nevertheless, as noticeable throughout the volumes, Kouji Seo starts to demonstrate a certain degree of authenticity and boldness in the organization of his manga, as well as showing ... signs of wanting to develop a new textual and narrative approach to the plot elements, especially to the dramatic arcs of the characters. Unfortunately, even though there is the goodwill of the author and even a certain awareness about the structure in which he chose to work, the manga "A Town Where You Live" becomes sterile and repetitive both from a subtextual perspective (themes, premises, and contents) and on the external effects felt by the reader, losing its ability to provoke curiosity in the internal consequences in the areas of drama, romance, comedy and even ecchi.


THE COUNTRYSIDE TOWN WHERE YOU CAME FROM
Even with a curious premise (a mysterious girl suddenly starts living with the protagonist at his house), the initial stage of the manga is set and developed within a quiet school environment of a Japanese countryside town, isolated from the big cities and that exudes the sensations of calmness, monotony, and stagnation. In these conditions, since there is not, on purpose, a considerable diversity of sceneries, all the reader's attention is fixed on Haruta's (the protagonist) situations and thoughts in interaction with the other characters. And this is where we have the first problem: due to this intimate approach, it becomes easily noticeable that the cast of characters is not such interesting "people" to follow.

When considering again the factual context of the manga "Kimi no Iru Machi", with its serialization in a young male-oriented magazine in the 2000s, the first-time reader can expect the strong presence of archetypes (the tomboy childhood friend, the dumb childhood friend, the shy girl who is the romantic interest) and predictable romantic or comic interactions that do little or nothing to enrich the work. Sure, there are good moments of humor and situations that exalt the romance elements; after all, the first few chapters of the manga are some of the most consistent in entertaining and giving a good sense of progression to the story.

In this restricted circle of characters and events, Kouji Seo presents perhaps his greatest assets that are present throughout the manga: the (i) non-obviousness in the behavior of each character and the (ii) dramatic construction of events founded on a certain degree of "realism". To circumvent the lack of substance in characters such as Yuzuki, Nanami, and Akari, the author manages to employ good twists and turns, such as the unexpected situation in which Haruto strengthens his feelings and prevents the construction of a "true" love triangle.

These elements, such as the focus only on the protagonist and a "realistic" approach to events, lead the reader's attention to a lukewarm journey with few interesting sequences. In a certain sense, and as will be discussed in a topic below, this monotony can be purposeful: by spending a large number of chapters to demonstrate the dramas between young people in a Japanese countryside town, the author could achieve an efficient counterpoint between the countryside and the "city" that bears the name of the manga. Even so, this intimate narrative structure and alleged "realism" does not last long, making room for situations that are, to say the least, exaggerated.


WHERE DO YOU WANT TO LIVE?
Within this perspective that the narrative construction of the events would come from a realistic approach and unpredictable behavior of the characters, the reader can expect a high frequency of conflicts (physical and verbal) that move the plot. However, Kouji Seo's writing is peculiar: for the author, non-obviousness is often synonymous with irrationality, and the dramatic aspect (in the sense of dramatization of reality) is founded, countless times, on unthinkable/absurd situations that displace the supposed "realism" far away.

The mentioned "realism" of Kimi no Iru Machi - which is often commented on in different forums and here on this site, refers to the author's unconventional choices in the conduction of the story. The "realism" in this manga means that some behaviors and clichés of a romantic comedy are not reproduced: throughout the manga, it is remarkable the effort of the mangaka to subvert the expectations of the reader by delivering unexpected scenes that express feelings that are even somewhat relatable.

In this sense, it is okay to present characters who, due to their age, social background, moral precepts, or any other argument, have characteristics such as emotional instability, aggressiveness, socialization problems, or other particularities that cause dramatic discomfort and do not welcome other characters or the reader himself. It is all right to use "problematic characters" as the guides of your story. Regardless, the moment the author opts for unconventional interactions between his characters, he would need to take time to introduce and develop these "people": from the moment the reader knows very little about each character, and there are no ways to predict their conduct, plenty of motivations and sudden decisions do not convince the reader, making these "human beings" less palpable and charismatic.

To maintain the degree of absurdity that the plot has taken on, the author extrapolates the verisimilitude of events and, consequently, harms the reader's suspension of disbelief. Only to exemplify, at a certain point in the story, the protagonist becomes a stalker. Yes.

As the manga progresses, as well as the plot accumulates characters and new conflicts, one notices the great difficulty of Kouji Seo in reasonably justifying certain events. A major highlight is Haruto's character arc, which seems to constantly shut down and restart as the story spans 270 chapters. Meanwhile, due to the hyper-focus the protagonist receives, the reader is distanced from the rest of the cast and only on brief occasions learns of other events not involving Haruto.

In any case, this uncertainty of the protagonist appreciated from a certain narrative intimacy can be interpreted as an expression of his growth process. After all, the reader follows months and months of Haruto's life, reading his thoughts from his perspective. The protagonist's never being satisfied or conforming to his situation is a fascinating tool for building good scenes, such as when he questions his goals/interests and reassesses the weight of his choices. The aforementioned hyper-focus also favors this interpretation: to the extent that we are very close to Haruto, every time the other characters appear different about their last appearances, the feeling can be produced that life goes on outside the frames and that we are reading a very specific clipping from an even more specific period of a person's life.

However, how does the manga relate these textual and narrative elements to its themes? After all, what does "Kimi no Iru Machi" want to convey to the reader?


A TOWN WHERE YOU LIVE
Within this panorama of an intimate narrative and a large passage of time within the plot, the reader follows, even if partially, the period of the characters' lives from the end of high school to situations related to "adulthood", such as the choice of a professional career, academic course, or even the formation of a family. This vast temporal period can be treated as a quality of the manga: because it is a drama, the reader tends to develop a greater affection for the situations and characters by following the story for so long and can observe very relatable human processes such as self-acceptance, uncertainty about the future, and making irremediable decisions.

As the plot progresses, the reader can observe various comments and decisions by the cast of characters regarding life changes, attachments to other people, and the future they each choose for themselves. Almost all of the characters work within the themes of how to grow up and mature, who you want to become in the future and how to unite tradition with the prospects of change, with some of these themes being more pertinent to a certain segment of characters.

Just as an example, Mr. Eba (Yuzuki's father) has a whole dramatic arc that comments on the perspective of a father watching his daughter mature and how he has not been able to be very present due to his demands at work or family configuration and how this affects his personal life. The fact that he is nameless may highlight that from the author's perspective, as people become adults in Japanese society, their sui generis human condition loses value to the social role they play (a salaried man, father, head of a family). Your role in society and how you contribute to sustaining it has much more weight than who you are and how you got to where you are.

In this context, Shiori's existence comments on the relationship between family and social expectations that an adult person bears on his life choices (as well as being an author's tool for metalanguage). It is very interesting to follow, even if for a few chapters and in a superficial way, the adult view of the (absurd) events that the plot offers: it is as if the reader is spying on the future of the main cast of characters, seeing some possible routes to take (like the character Shiho). The protagonist's uncertainty about his life efficiently complements this whole thematic approach.

These are themes that I admire a lot and consider essential to be presented to a young audience like that of Shounen Magazine. After all, a good author can make his messages and literary arguments reach not only the target audience but also be perceptible to all the other readers who experience his work. In "Kimi no Iru Machi", Kouji Seo even manages to transmit these and other ideas from his narrative approach, being very direct and making his characters verbalize the proposed themes.

So, if its themes are clear and echo throughout the manga, what is the work's problem? Well, without a doubt it is not the quality or depth of its themes, but the efficiency in the presentation, development, and ending of them: the manga "Kimi no Iru Machi" is a dragging work, with the absence of a good rhythm of progression from the first arc, which lasts much longer than necessary.

Let's take an example: as I commented on the first topic, the monotony of the first arc could serve as an instrument to counteract the intensity and pressure that a metropolis, with its social dynamics, exerts on the characters. In this sense, it is easily noticeable that Yuzuki, as an external element that transports urban values to the inner city, is a character that motivates the transformation of the environment and the other characters around her: after all, the plot and the manga itself begin with her arrival at Haruto's house.

However, there are no value conflicts: for the sake of offering a standard romantic comedy, Yuzuki quickly becomes accustomed to the new surroundings and begins to play a narrative role within the internal logic of the circle of characters. The character herself is not disruptive because she carries beliefs that are different from the other characters (at most, she displays unconventional behavior), but because she is made up as the possible romantic interest of the protagonist within the plot.

Another example is the aforementioned contrast between the countryside and the city. To some extent, the countryside city conveys traditional values of belonging and security, serving as a quiet and safe place with no considerable prospects for change. In contrast, the city, intense and diverse as it is, can become oppressive due to the competitiveness and possibilities it offers. In this process of comparison, Haruto himself recognizes this sea of promises but discovers similar values and relationships to those he experienced in the countryside city, and other characters like Akari have dramatic arcs that comment on this relationship between belonging and change.

Although, the author constantly interrupts these and other comments to make room for comic, romantic, and erotic situations that serve only as fanservice. Due to this narrative structure, the thematic approach of the work, which is not so deep, ends up being diluted in an extensive quantity of chapters that have no objective function and that often repeat conflicts or situations that have already been solved. There are 270 chapters, and the central plot, which is already filled with several moments without any function, is finished around chapter 150: after this milestone, a few scenes and conflicts are truly well developed.

Due to these pacing problems, all of the author's themes and comments are weakened and lose the importance they should have. It is okay to present lighter chapters that serve as a reward for the situations the characters have been through and can provide transition chapters, for example. It is only difficult to accept this narrative configuration if the author turns half of his manga into fanservice and, when reaching the final stretch, has trouble presenting a decent conclusion that makes internal sense with the development of the plot and characters.

"Kimi no Iru Machi" and its themes suffer too much because of these decisions by Kouji Seo, weakening a work that could be appreciated as a romantic comedy with good dramatic moments and a more "realistic" approach to the situations in which the characters live. Up to a certain point, it becomes difficult to follow the manga even for readers who identify with the characters and situations.


OTHER NOTES
- As for Kouji Seo's artistic features, there is not much to comment on. The drawing style and character designs are decent, but the aesthetics are ordinary without much inspiration. Concerning the quadrinization aspect, the author usually inserts, almost in every chapter, a big vertical image of a female character on the left side of the page to demonstrate to the reader her beauty, being a repetitive resource with no other function.
- Some scenes and dialogues are very well organized and beautiful in a certain sense, as in chapters 73, 88, 109, and 118.
- I register here my complete hatred for chapter 140 and all the events involving Asuka, the most wronged character in this manga.
- The "Tokyo arc" is, even with its problems, the best segment of this manga.
- I recommend that the reading of the chapters be accompanied by the reading of the discussion forums. It is interesting to see how the opinion of the fandom changed as the plot "developed".
- In both the moments before and after the formation of a certain couple, the author insists on putting harem elements. The only question you'll continue to ask yourself is: How do so many girls fall in love with such an uninteresting guy?


CONCLUSION
Reading "Kimi no Iru Machi" is a rollercoaster of feelings, either because of the story's events or the author's choices. I recommend reading it only to those who are interested in knowing the writing form of Kouji Seo, an author well known for other works such as Suzuka and Fuuka, and visiting a manga that presents structures common to romantic comedies for young boys in the 2000s. But in general, it is a work with very little functionality in the development of its proposals and themes, causing a lot of frustration because of the massive amount of chapters with no relevant events.

Good luck to those who will venture into this drawn-out manga, full of empty or repeated conflicts, which progressively loses its charm and becomes quite expendable after its midpoint.

ONE OF THE MANGA EVER MADE
"Prison School", written by Akira Hiramoto for Young Magazine, is a curious manga: it has an absurd premise and the clear intention of fusing lewdness, eroticism, humor, and tension in an interesting wrapper capable of holding the reader's attention by the exponential absurdity of the story. While using a competent comic strip technique and an artistic approach close to realism, the author consciously extrapolates common sense and scientific knowledge of human anatomy to produce extravagant moments that sustain the work and motivate reading by successfully executing the central idea of the manga - that is, a set of misadventures grounded ... in humor and sexual perversion (that almost reach pornographic levels in the display), without taking itself too seriously.

Unfortunately, and as I will outline below, the narrative and textual structures gradually decay throughout the chapters, turning a great work into an expendable manga that frustrates the reader's interest. In order to avoid spoilers, this review is focused on describing and analyzing the general foundations of the manga, without further descriptions of events.

By the way, even if there is no mention of the rumors surrounding the author's supposed dissatisfaction with his manga and the publisher's pressure to maintain the serialization, these are factors that may justify the course adopted throughout the run.

English isn't my native language, so forgive me for my mistakes and weak grammatical constructions.


A STRANGE FIRST STEP, BUT NOT IN A "PRISON SCHOOL" WAY
Preliminarily, and in order to guide first-time readers, it is important to highlight the composition and structure of the first chapter: it is a very insufficient chapter that does not do justice to the rest of the manga. As the first introductory section, with the ability to retain the audience the most, the introduction presents great difficulties in establishing and concretely defining the elements of the proposal: given the focus on Kiyoshi and his mental notes about the new environment (an orientation tool for the reader himself), the initial stage distances the other boys and does not even introduce the antagonists.

It is clear that the author's intention is not the build-up of a rivalry through characterization, but rather the presentation of attention-grabbing moments, and this conscious choice will lead to big problems in the following arcs. In case you don't know the anime version or don't hold with the promise of a romantic development between Kiyoshi and Chiyo, the first chapter, even if with an interesting visual composition (good frames and angles, complemented with an artistic style with plenty of details) and good overall structures, may drive away those interested in what "Prison School" really proposes: an absurd and graphic comedy with no commitment to common sense throughout 278 chapters.


WAIT... A SOLID START?
After a somewhat lukewarm and dysfunctional beginning, the manga starts to deliver its true nature and values already in the second chapter, and here it is valid to reinforce the general comment of this review: the manga "Prison School" does not take itself too seriously. The lack of seriousness is not only extracted from the "comedy" genre, which presupposes a good humor of the story (after all, a comedy work can present and deal with serious themes), but also from the gradual absurdity of the situations that distances the verisimilitude of the work and stretches the reader's suspension of disbelief. In other words, given the textual and visual presentation of the manga, there is no reason to treat the events and, on a general level, the manga itself with seriousness or depth.

That said, the first major arc of the manga is exceptionally great in almost everything: from the contrast between a more realistic artistic approach, with creative framing, and the physical absurdity of situations, you get a set of 81 chapters that are shocking and fun to follow. There are minor details that persist at this stage of the manga, such as the excessive repetition of scenes with Meiko, absence of Jouji, Reiji and Shingo for most of the arc, and the lack of closeness with the antagonists (with the exception of Hana, who is responsible for starring in an excellent sequence of 6 chapters).

In general, and even with these small signs of wear (hyper focus on the protagonist, distancing from the other characters, and a certain repetition of similar occurences), the manga manages to develop its creative events at a great pace and sense of progression, with very few tedious moments and no major commentary or thematic approaches.


THE DEFINITIVE JUSNATURALIST CRITIQUE OF THE JAPANESE PRISON SYSTEM?? NO? OKAY
After a consistently good first arc, the author tries to introduce, through transitional chapters, new environments and relationships that serve as a "reward" to all the stressful, exhausting, and physically and mentally violent scenarios that the main group have been through. These chapters are more episodic and lighter in narrative, giving a calming atmosphere to the manga and being very satisfying. In the background, a new problem to the plot is being set up: the role reversal with the antagonists - and it is at this point that the work begins to wear thin. The author spends the transition chapters and the overwhelming part of the second arc on an artificial empathy building that doesn't work immediately: because he didn't develop these characters in the first arc, the narrative feeling of reading it is that the work starts again from scratch, with new focus and circumstances, and not that there is a sense of continuity.

At this stage, the choices made by the author are questionable, to say the least: early in the arc, the reader is distanced from the more charismatic characters introduced in the first arc in favor of establishing interactions with the new characters. However, this distancing is not well justified or leveraged to the extent that the new experiences are predictable within that "empathy" context (such as the behaviors of Takehito and Reiji in the first third of the chapters). No event actually arouses the same level of interest as in the first arc.

This is the main problem: it would not be a problem if "empathy" served only as a plot tool to facilitate the reader's acceptance of the characters on screen. Instead of this, the author stretches the dramatic contexts of each character over several chapters, establishing an exaggerated dramaticity in a work that treated these episodes in a clear tragicomic tenor, with almost no seriousness. In some cases, the comicalness is maintained to a certain degree (Risa), in others it just doesn't work well (Meiko and Kate).

It is definitely a dragged out arc that fails to hold the interest until its 2/3, at which time there is the return of Kiyoshi to the spotlight, ensuring hilarious events between him, Mari and Chiyo, as well as the presence of more cooperative situations between the cores of characters (mainly in the final stages of the arc), a late fruit of the aforementioned "empathy". This slowness of pace becomes so structural that a schizoid phenomenon occurs: the "true conclusion" of the events is spread over a very long set of transitional chapters and another arc, commented in the following topic. The only element that can keep the reader interested is the interaction between the characters, fruit of the "empathy" planted in the first and second arcs.

Before moving on to the next topic, it is worth highlighting the final chapters of the transition involving the character Hana. They are possibly the best chapters of the entire work, with their monumental apex being chapter 178: the greatness of "Prison School" is condensed in this genius chapter. And again, the character Hana establishes her protagonism in the best sequences of the entire work.


IT WAS ALL A METAPHOR - WE, THE READERS, WHO ARE IN A PRISON
Finally, the arc that would conclude the problems and conflicts presented in the previous chapters begins. And, also, the decadence of "Prison School" begins. The infamous "school tournament arc" is one of the greatest atrocities ever written by modern man: there are 41 chapters in which absolutely nothing happens. Zero progression. Zero development. Zero involvement. There is no way to describe the fatigue while reading these chapters, with hours spent in endless repetition: the manga version of haruhi's endless eight. Even genuinely comical circumstances (chapter 209, for example) are spoiled due to the length and repetition of ideals.

This arc condenses all the pacing and plot problems that were growing in the previous chapters, but does not present any counterpart sufficient to remedy these defects, unlike the first arc (a gripping plot) and the second arc (good interactions). Even the sexualization scenes don't work, and the entire comic aspect is diluted in one big tedious sequence, which still has a weak conclusion without much future effect.


CONCLUSION: FREEDOM IS NOT WORTH IT - TOP 10 REASONS TO GO TO JAIL
At last the final arc, the conclusion of everything. But what is left to be solved? In reality, there is nothing left. Even the minor effects of the last arc are quickly resolved at the beginning of this final stage, which still maintains a comical content to the events. However, as the arc progresses, the lack of motivation becomes clear.

Gradually, the immense creativity that marked the first arc of the manga, the good interactions in the second arc, or the humor in the other chapters, is all lost. What is left are lengthy scenes and dialogues that lead nowhere. The erotic scenes themselves have no more creativity and no internal elements of the work have a function other than to extend the duration of a plot that should have ended 100 chapters ago. About the final events of the last chapters, there are not enough words to describe the frustration and the feeling of "well, I wasted my time".

Sadly, "Prison School" is a manga not worth the read. If you want to take a chance, I strongly recommend sticking to the anime alone: it's a great adaptation of the only arc worth following. In the end, all that was left of an initially great work was a great feeling of dissatisfaction.