Between its rapidly escalating narrative turns, infinitely unlikable lead, and contradictory thematic conceits 16bit Sensation: Another Layer made for thoroughly exasperating viewing. Desperately seeking a comparatively grounded exploration of its premise, however, I found myself kneeling and all but weeping at the alter of progenitor 16bit Sensation. Hallelujah, etc!

Alleviating virtually every issue I had with the disaster of an anime, its characters have time to breathe, facilitating a pleasant level of introspection with the media they engage with. You have thoughtful, page-long observations about era-defining shifts ranging from why a particular game ended up being so impactful that year, to how earlier censorship laws were implemented. For any would-be aficionado of the medium, it makes for an informative read.

A sugary sweet GL that will be sure to leave you eager for more, with gusto Akumade whips up a scrumptious succubus-except-now-she’s-in-a-pâtissière-wow affair. A relatively new piece so not much else to really touch on at this point, however I do appreciate how casually the central character’s sexuality is implemented and respected by those around her. It’s the little things.

In Yua we trust (furtively shifts eyes away from the Rojita collaboration pieces hanging in my wardrobe).

Within the oftentimes stifling, cloistered lily garden that is yuri, Asumi-chan is Interested in Lesbian Brothels emerges as quite the disruptive work poised to send petals flying off in a whirlwind. With the titular Asumi unabashedly dabbling in all matter of sexual escapades, it’s refreshing to see such a sex-positive work with a queer lead. Through numerous risqué encounters Asumi deepens her understanding of the intersection between intimacy and self-discovery; partners disrobing her of awkwardness and encouraging Asumi to relax and live in the moment. It’s quite sweet, really.

Despite Chainsaw Man once putting me off something fierce its frenzied, fanaticized fandom seeping into every corner of the internet, I was pleasantly caught off guard through monstrous transformations being utilized as an oftentimes gory vehicle to examine stirrings of longing through Denji. One must admire CSM, for its subversive take on a horndog protagonist wishing to cop a feel being channelled into the desire to experience normality; to escape the miserable confines where he had no upward social mobility, no education, no anything in fact save for a pocketful of dreams where exploitation was a grim inevitability.

The shift to Asa that came with part two remained arresting as ever, plumbing the depths of adolescent anxieties utilizing transformative elements/the hostile devil takeover. This time though it’s the id quite literally splitting off, at perpetual odds with the ego. Certainly worth all the hype, but am a year or so behind at this point.

Need to catch up, infinitely more tender than one would perhaps anticipate based on the summary/opening swathe of episodes.

it does and i am cry

i too love neo-karaekano

need to read more works from battan stat

For those intimately acquainted with GL, no doubt the distinctive hue of radioactive, puke-green evokes nonchalant half-smiles, piercings dotted down an ear’s expanse, and t-shirts adorned with ‘90s grunge acts. With The Guy She Was Interested In Wasn't a Guy at All, its concise 4-page stylings due to being a Twitter-hosted manga may ostensibly afford its leading pair little room to breathe, yet it exudes an undeniably snappy flair, lending a spirited, clipped pace to their evolving relationship which suits the manga's tone.

Always living in the moment, the hearts of Aya and Mitsuki pulse in time to frenetic, guitar-heavy pieces they listen to. Between excitedly gushing over Bikini Kill contributing to the riot girl movement amongst a record store sale’s throng, to sparkly-eyed enthusiasm and flushed cheeks belting out Joan Jett at karaoke, this manga will always warrant a suitably disruptive playlist while reading.

Through Heisei Haizanhei appearing alongside Noa-senpai in promotional campaigns, surface-level comparisons suggested a shared exploration of personal growth their female leads eventually experience. The reality is that the pair are typically grouped due to being faildaughters in their late twenties/early thirties, and despite Heisei lacking its erstwhile counterpart’s charm I’m always down for series which involve those floating amidst the swirling constellation of a dream’s end.

A former figurehead of the tumultuous Heisei idol warring period, close to a decade later Sumire lazes around a threadbare apartment; turning away from the zeitgeist and all that it entails. Falling into the gravure industry an element of provocative framing is unavoidable (groan-inducing splash page declarations such as “her mind may be a mess, but her body is amazing!” appear), but it’s handled mostly okay(ish). Questionable detours arise but they ultimately resolve without derailing too much into exploitative territory – Sumire thankfully finds herself involved with female-lead ventures, which certainly helps.

Though Sushikarma emerges as a commendable foil to our titular Sumire, all scowls etched deep skulking around beneath the shade convention halls grant, her behaviour towards Izumi turns the stomach. Particularly how it’s parsed as yet another amusing quirk that the reader is meant to derive enjoyment from, with her infamously disturbing, manic spiel accompanied by a light-hearted BGM speaking volumes.

Inkya Gyaru Demo Ikigaritai feels rooted in contemporaneity, with a proverbial finger pressed firmly on subcultural mores. As opposed to ridiculing what people would be drawn to, it instead seeks to examine why people turn to them in a way that feels non-judgemental. Its leads praise and condemn TikTok in the same breath, chew the fat about sneaker collecting and how sneakers themselves became so popular, and the Dior lip oil is shown which absolutely feels like an otaku media world first lol. The dynamic between the leads is nice and lively as well, their interactions are fun to watch.

A sordid, bloodstained affair examining warped fixations, all l’appel du vide made manifest through wrung necks and darkened eyes, seemed poised to ensure I Want To Be Killed By Your Beautiful Self would cause a stir. While the unsettling atmosphere established in its first chapter lingers, given Tomoaki’s role as a university counsellor half-heartedly tending to those darkening his door and Hajime’s insistence on Making Things Worse™, the premise crumbles into structural stagnancy; residual dust blanketing all that ensues.

As opposed to directly focusing on what Tomoaki and Hajime share, they instead assume the role of bumbling, gawping assistant and charismatic detective fumbling through episodic patients-of-the-week instances with a supernatural flair. Utilizing the suggestion of the uncanny to broadly serve as a representation of how Hajime is perceived, parsing himself as this Baphomet-esque caricature, certainly harbours potential but whether anything will come of it remains to be seen.

Often favourably compared to The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn't a Guy at All, Kaisha takes a refreshingly nonchalant approach to disrupting gendered norms through our leading man being swathed in layers of dainty lolita fashion while his stern colleague is all tousled hair and androgynous charm off the clock. Several chapters in and seeing how the relationship between the central pairing evolves both in and out of office is charming, and I’m looking forward to seeing when the two worlds will collide.

What appears to be an office romance contextualized within the claustrophobic dystopia of Kowloon Walled City gradually shifts into something altogether more surreal and unexpected, bathed in the illusionary stupor of the midsummer haze. Kowloon Generic Romance is a nostalgic work concerned with memories, and their impact. Ghosts of the past fade into the shadows of narrow corridors; doppelgangers contend with basking in the shade of those who came before, calling into question what – if anything – is theirs.

As a reader you begin to wonder where the line between fake and real begins, and if such a line matters much at all to begin. It’s a framework which the very ethos of Kowloon is plunged into, with supporting cast members pondering the significance in turn affording a quasi-meta bent to the narrative. With an anime adaptation having recently aired, I’m looking forward to revisiting this dreamlike work.

not catching up bc i refuse to believe it's over

While the emergence of potentially provocative subject matter such as teen pregnancy have been portrayed within the monochromatic, oftentimes escapist realm of manga, seldom has the topic been portrayed with this level of refreshing nuance. As opposed to the tawdry, salacious affairs lining the medium’s archives, My Girlfriend’s Child emerges as a remarkably distinct entity, carefully exploring the emotions of those involved. While affixed with the ‘drama’ tag, what the couple experiencing the pregnancy and those in their vicinity go through is by no means driven to absurdly melodramatic heights. Every decision, every single page cautiously depicts what is a life-altering event with care and sensitivity.

Notably, with the second volume’s afterword creator Aoi Mamoru mused on there being a need for more accessible information regarding pregnancy and wishing to depict scenes that are otherwise seldom explored in otaku media. As of that volume, what stands out is a scene where its protagonist gingerly sprawls out on a hospital bed, her attending consultant prodding around which made me think “goodness, we sure have come a long way since chaste love scenes of old!”.

Expected Noa is My Senior, and My Friend to be a gaudy wish-fulfilment staple, ended up bearing witness to something altogether more challenging through social roles reflected within the confines of a post-Riamu bishoujoscape - and how that fact seems to horrify some people. I wrote a post about this, in fact (click here to read!

Beyond the glitzy veneer of a quasi-yuri comedy submerged in standom culture, Oshi ga Budoukan Ittekuretara shinu examines the commodification of interactions within the entertainment industry, often to the detriment of those held captive within its dazzling nexus. Eripiyo’s infatuation with Maina raises ethical considerations, as in many ways she is essentially buying her time.

And yet, within this same space Maina similarly grapples with the prospect of reciprocating emotions (whatever form they may take) in an authentic manner, away from the weight of the clock’s hands being propelled mercilessly forward. They share a complex relationship, enmeshed within the fraught complexities of clearly defined roles from a societal perspective as ‘fan’ and ‘entertainer’. Although I have complex issues towards standom culture generally, within this fictional space I find the societal underpinnings that are difficult to navigate fascinating, particularly should the pair be afforded a chance to transcend it.

Oshi to no Yuri wa Arienai makes for an unexpectedly entertaining read. A goofy GL venture exploring the hijinks of an otaku gyaru who is reduced to a drooling, dribbling mess when she gets anywhere near her beloved, this austere ojousama, chaos ensues amidst saliva-drenched pages. Given the otaku element there’s this light-hearted friction emerging from gyaru (does she feel fan-driven adoration, or stirrings of a crush?!), which pairs nicely with ojousama's shtick (she strives for perfection, yet getting involved with gyaru keeps tripping her up?!). A fairly simple opposite attracts premise on paper yet the central pairing are absurd, larger-than-life beings operating within a screwball comedy paradigm which certainly adds to the appeal.

generational situationship crashout incoming

cute...... ooooo my heart cute..............

TRAIN CAN’T STOP WON’T STOP (I am waiting on this to end to catch up, I think. I have not read Shounen no Abyss in well over a year but I’m like (SCREAMS INTERNALLY -> positive) every time my mind turns towards it).

A fairly benign meet-cute forms amidst cigarette smoke through a weary salaryman being teased by a lady about his skittish affections for her customer-facing persona. Burgundy lipstick and a dishevelled fringe magically transforming her into a wholly unrecognizable persona strains credulity, but the appeal lies in their playful banter. Despite being partial of the character designs (pathetic moe ojisans and ladies gazing sternly, my beloved) there’s not really much going on, and I find myself losing interest after a chapter or two each time.

A distinctly bittersweet air permeates what ought to have been a warm reunion for a pair of old school chums; smiles dulled by the weight of sins committed, hearts smeared by traces of blood. A chance encounter at a get-together sparks a murder, leaving them on the run away from Japan. Their destination and goals lofty, although presented in a light-hearted manner all that transpired lingers at the back of the reader’s mind here in Stupid Woman 26:00.

Will they really be able to eat croissants in France, when a search warrant may soon be out for them? Can they rest easy at the airport, when every face harbours the potential to be clouded with suspicion? It’s early days but these two women navigating the fraught interstices of their own burgeoning relationship and lives is compelling.

I recall being particularly impressed at what a refined and introspective work Konishi’s debut Haru no Noroi ended up being, so was optimistic about Yakuza Fiancé: Raise wa Tanin ga Ii. Enjoyed what little I read, but need to return.

…It’s actually been so long since I’ve caught up that an anime managed to be announced, air, and end. W-well folks,,

Though trashy Watashi to Otto to Otto no Kareshi may be, I nevertheless find myself mildly entertained.