They came from all walks of life, on foot and wing and claw. Some flew on wings of air or spell, some rode on beasts fantastic and mysterious, and others still had more mundane modes of transportation - they walked. There were fledgling mages among their number, those who had never so much as cast their first spell, as well as those who had some experience in magecraft but wanted to further themselves in matters arcane.

They were a motley bunch - some human, most not. But none doubted their drive and determination or desire to learn. Whether human or fey, born of shadow or of light, Luminis turned no one away as long as they wished to dedicate themselves to the mastery of magic. Some students chose necromancy as their discipline of choice, raising the dead and calling upon spirits from other planes. Others still wished to study transmutation, changing matter from one state to another as easily as pouring water from a cup. And yet others picked another form of magic entirely.

Whatever path they chose, though, the school insisted that they dedicate time and effort to their field of study, and shirk no responsibility or duty they were assigned. For the most part, the students succeeded in this. Some were slower than others, some more intelligent, some more able to excel, others less. But such is the nature of a student body - all of them were different. No two beings are alike, but each of them shared the desire to learn and the love of magic.

But among the many gathered upon the plain, none loved the school or shone brighter than Anya.

She was a pigtailed, lithe sprite of a girl, half laughter and all light. Wherever she went, auburn bangs bobbing, she brought in her wake joy and laughter both. She raced from place to place, spinning and whirling to the delight of the students and the consternation of the teachers. When lessons came she was the first to run to the fore of the class with a smile on her face, and when it came time for lab work she mixed potion and herb with youthful zeal - more often than not spilling a decanter or two in the process. No one could doubt her fire or her enthusiasm, her earnest nature or the sparkle in her eyes.

She was a friend to any and all, and could never bear to see a sad soul or leave anyone to be lonely. Many a student in the throes of heartbreak or exam woes had been cheered by the sight of her dashing down the halls, or conjuring a kaleidoscope of sparks for the enjoyment of all. It was no wonder then, that students thronged around her wherever she went, happy to just be near her and her infectious joy. The Belle of Luminis, they called her, and it was a moniker well-worn indeed.

Her antics were not lost on someone who gazed upon her from afar. She was tall where Anya was short, long-haired where the other girl was not. Her eyes were the red of a banked fire, and her lean and muscled form was in sharp contrast to Anya’s small and petite one. She stood calm and silent and very well could have passed for a statue if not for the occasional lashing of her tail. Wherever Anya went, she was there, inconspicuous and silent, doing nothing but watching.

Her name was Seris, and she hailed from a realm where dragons roamed the open skies and walked the earth. Long ago, when her land had come under attack from fearsome serpents beyond

the sea and skies, her forefathers had wedded scale to skin in a ritual of fire that fused dragon and human into one. With the strength of the wyrm and the intellect of man, they had beaten back the otherworldly menace, and from that day on had lived on in peace. Their custom was to send the scion of their leaders to Luminis, so they would study and return stronger than before, and the Dragonborn (for those were what they were called) Seris was their representative this year.

As clouds scudded over the open plains, a bell sounded and the students filed into the classes one by one. It was another day in the school of magic, and lessons had only just begun.

---

Each day in Luminis was the same, and yet different. There were classes to attend, of course, but each was taught differently...one would expect no less from a school of the arcane. Demons explained the finer points of summoning an imp, while wizened crones croaked out the secrets of divination. Students sat rapt in attention - and when it wavered a stray lightning bolt or fireball would restore it quickly.

Seris sat silent and watchful at the back of the class, while Anya would prance gaily about in front. The two of them were as different as night from day, but yet the former could not take her eyes off the latter. If she was asked, the Dragonborn too would have found it hard-pressed to answer as to what she found so fascinating about the younger girl. Was it her zest for life? Her constant chatter and playful ways? The sparkle that had so enchanted the other students had worked its magic on the Dragonborn as well, and she was defenseless against its charm.

Where others would ask the Belle for favors and conversation, she was content to simply observe. Hers were an old people, and she thought nothing of gazing at Anya day in and day out, doing nothing. Dragons lived long lives, after all, and to one such as her, a day passed as fleetingly as a moment for others.

But then one day Anya’s eye fell on her as she sat underneath the tall tree in the school gardens. She had been oblivious to her watcher’s presence all this while, but for some reason today she noticed the Dragonborn as she sat quietly, and her curiosity was piqued. Anya had come up to the taller girl, all smiles and joy. Seris had shyly turned away, but the smaller girl would have none of it, taking her hand and attempting to engage her in conversation.

Her efforts were all for naught though, as her followers milled and chatted around them. Anya had an astuteness that belied her tender years, and she sensed that the Dragonborn would not open up to her in the presence of others. So she let her entourage to class, and when the bell tolled for the school day’s end, it was a more subdued and gentler Anya who approached Seris by the tree.

She smiled winsomely and proceeded to slowly wheedle the older girl out of her shell. While Seris was stiff and almost taciturn, Anya was a past master at cajoling anyone to do her bidding, and slowly but surely Seris began to speak. It was hard not to feel at ease around Anya with her high spirits, ready smile and tinkling laugh, she was easy - too easy! - to talk to. It was not for nothing she was known as the Belle of the school.

They fell to talking about this and that - simple, boring and mundane things. What classes they liked, and didn’t. What they would do tomorrow, and the day after that. How to craft a fire spell - something that came naturally to Seris, but not so to Anya. A few minutes of talking and both of them felt it was like they had been doing this for years. It was all too natural for Anya to speak and for Seris to hear.

And so at the end of the day Anya asked her if they would like to do this again tomorrow, and the other girl had shyly agreed. The end of the next day had them meeting underneath the sapling at the edge of the school garden. They met the next day as well, and the next and many days after. Anya would chatter on, and Seris would listen quietly, and then when the sun began to set, they would both pack up their things and leave.

They took to walking together. The spring was in full bloom, and the air was crisp and fresh around them as the fairies danced their dance around the maple trees that lined the woodland paths away from the gardens. Both lived in the dormitories at the outskirts of the school, and walking there was more than enough time for time to continue their conversations. In time the taller girl grew bold enough to speak, and she asked her own questions of the younger one.

“Do you ever get bored of the classes? Is there anything you don’t like?”

“Well...mathematics is hard. There are so many numbers! It’s not like art, where you just can paint whatever you like. I know we need to study it, but still, I wish they would make it more interesting.”

Seris rarely spoke, but today she was filled with a spirit of inquiry, and so she asked question after question of the younger mage. What did she like to do? What books did she like to read? The Dragonborn wanted to know more about her friend with an intensity that surprised her. Finally they came to where she had lived before coming to the school.

Anya sighed, flicking away a stray leaf from her shoulder, and closed her eyes in remembrance.

“Well, I was born somewhere far from here. A world called Arethica, full of greenery and sunshine. I lived with my mother, father and brothers, and most of my time was spent helping out around the farm...feeding the animals, and tending to the fields. It was peaceful, but also boring.”

“When Mother and Father weren’t paying attention I used to steal away to the attic and read the books that my grandmother had left me. It was there that I learned about magic. How you could make flowers bloom and lift stones, open portals and even fly...it was all just so wonderful! I would sit and sigh and dream until my parents came charging up the stairs to ask me what I was doing.”

Anya giggled a little at that recollection, and then resumed her tale.

“I passed many a summer that way, my head in a book and my mind faraway. Imagine my surprise one day when a passing mage who bought some milk from us pointed a finger at me and told my parents that I had the potential to learn magic! We scrimped and saved for years until we could pay the entrance fees to Luminis...and now, here I am! And you’re here with me, Seris!”

The taller girl listened to Anya speak of her homeland with wonder and admiration. Hers was a harsh land, full of fire, brimstone and sulphur, where the strong lived only at the expense of the weaker. To her, thatched huts and tilled fields were strange mysteries indeed. But she ventured nothing of herself, content to let Anya ramble on about her homeland and her former life there.

“Do you like it here?” she finally asked.

“Of course!” replied Anya. “I love Luminis! I love the trees, and the teachers, and the spells we learn...I love everything in it! And I especially love you, Seris!”

The Dragonborn blinked in shock. Surely she had misheard her? She liked her of course, and she was so bold as to think that the feeling was mutual...but...but...love?

The girl used the words carelessly, lightly, much like the wisp of a girl that she was. She had no knowledge of the deeper nature of the words, or what myriad meanings they had. She spoke only as the whim came to her, heedless of what they might mean beyond the moment in which they were uttered.

So as she turned away, pirouetting freely in the dawn twilight, she failed to see the blush of red that colored Seris’s cheeks. To Anya her words were simple truths - spoken and then forgotten. But to one who lives a thousand years, they were not declarations that were heard lightly.

Dragons hoard things by nature, and while Seris had no use for gold, she curled her heart and soul around those simply spoken words, and polished them until they shone brighter than any diamond.

---

The days passed and the seasons turned and before anyone knew it summer had come to the school...and with that came holidays. The grueling finals were over, much to the relief of all, and it was now a time for revelry. The teachers closed one eye when the students pulled pranks on each other and even when Anya - in a particularly exuberant mood even for her - turned all the imps on campus into snowmen, she was only served a day’s detention.

Most students had gone back for the holidays, but not so Anya and Seris. There were remedial lessons to attend, for one. Alchemy for Seris - it had never been her strong suit, and her professors were insistent that before the season was out she learn to tell the difference between mugwort and mandrake. Summoning for Anya - though the Belle could conjure rainbows and beams of light better than any of them, the most simple of portals seemed to be beyond her.

Fortunately they were not the only ones who were denied a trip home. A red-eyed vampire noble, a too-tall werewolf that constantly scratched at ill-fitting garments, a gnomish prince with gems strewn throughout his short hair...it was a motley crew indeed that spent the summer at Luminis. But the half-dragon had eyes for one and one alone.

Lessons were learnt, potions were mixed, and spells were cast. When summer was at its zenith and the students had returned from their hometowns, the annual ball commenced. They sang and danced and even taciturn Seris was persuaded to set fire to the braziers which lit the banquet halls - which she did, blushing a fierce red even deeper than the color of her flames. All things considered it was a merry time, and most were sorry to see it end. Time waits for no one, though, and soon a new season was upon them and classes had resumed.

I read a lot of LGBT manga – far many more titles than I can cover in one article. Maybe one day I’ll do more in-depth reviews of studies of some of them, but for now, these are just some titles that caught my attention during convalescence from a recent illness. Turns out that being sick in bed is a good thing to read queer manga, so my loss is your gain.

My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness

We’ll start out with some of the heavyweights. I will admit that I only picked this up because it’s original title is “Sabishisugite Rezu Fūzoku ni Ikimashita Repo, lit., “A Report on Being So Lonely That I Went to a Lesbian Brothel”” I admire any manga that has the balls (wrong turn of phrase, probably) to openly use the term “lesbian” in its title, especially since Japan has still not legalized same-sex marriage.

The manga is raw, stylized and does not pull any punches – at one point, the author talks about how she borrowed money from her mother to go to the titular lesbian brothel, and she also depicts her struggles with social media addiction and various illnesses with humor, panache and verve. Her highly stylized art style brings to mind Art Spielgelman’s Maus, and is a testament to how serious social issues can be depicted without having to be photorealistic in detail. The work can swing wildly from droll in one panel to slapstick in the next, which to my mind is part of its appeal.

Content-wise, despite the somewhat clickbaity title, it’s essentially an autobiographical manga about the artist’s life as a single lesbian in modern day Tokyo. It does go for the jugular at various parts, with pretty detailed examinations of female bodies and their attendant genitalia…but that’s exactly why I feel manga like this should exist. Manga is an artform, and what purpose does art serve if not to illuminate society and the human condition in general?

A work this unapologetic in its nature may not be for everyone, but I encourage mature readers to at least give it a once-over.

My Brother’s Husband

This is an Eisner-nominated work from Gengoro Tagume, who is better known for drawing bears (the gay human kind) in various forms of extreme sadomachocism. Nothing wrong with that, but even though the men in this manga definitely look the part, the subject matter is not like the author’s previous fare, instead being a heartwarming, gentle story of family relations and being openly gay in two very different countries.

The story is told in a plain, unvarnished way which showcases the power of manga to depict stories of all kinds – whether highly stylized works or in this instance, something simpler but no less poignant. While the world has made great strides in being accepting of LGBT+ individuals, the author asks questions of society through his characters which may not have easy answers, but need to be asked nonetheless.

I think what I like best about this manga is how well…normal it is. No giant warriors or spacefaring vessels to be found anywhere – just an ordinary Japanese man and his daughter who discoveres that his deceased brother’s husband is coming to visit. Through mundane affairs like grocery shopping and doing the laundry, we discover a very simple – and completely human – magic.

This work made me cry at the end, quite unexpectedly. With my own bent towards loquacity, I’m constantly reminded by quality works of art that sometimes, less is more and that
simple statements can be the most powerful.

For those who are interested, a live action movie was made of this manga.

Love Me For Who I Am (Fukakai na Boku no Subete wo)

While the title is not something to quibble too much over, I think it’s worth pointing out that it literally translates to “All of me who is not understood” This manga is somewhat of a rarity in having a non-binary AMAB person as the lead character, which I feel is definitely a step in the right direction. And it’s fun to read too 🙂

(Did I also mention everyone inside is really cute?)

Why this makes the list is that the manga doesn’t shy away from showing the very real and definitive problems one can have as a non-cis person…as well as the joy and comfort one can experience by being accepted and loved by those close to you. A wide variety of genders, orientations and sexualities can be found here – transwomen, lesbians, cross-dressers and gay men – all in some combination! All are depicted with charm and heart, without any hint of forced representation.

It’s the little things that sometimes matter, and nowhere is that more true than in this manga, whether it’s the lead’s boyfriend wondering if liking an AMAB person makes him gay, to the other gay youths taking an instant dislike to the lead’s lesbian friend…people are people, and queer folk do not automatically get along, whether in manga or real life.

Small touches like these, against the backdrop of more pressing issues like coming out and parental disapproval, make the work nuanced and varied enough to have commanded my attention.

The author also has a doujinshi featuring one of the minor characters (Suzu) for interested readers.

Asami-chan is Interested in Lesbian Brothels!

Okay, admit it – you read this because of the title, right? I sure did. I’m a sucker for any fictional work which proclaims its LGBTness right in the kisser…making it not one but TWO manga with lesbian brothels this article covers.

Unlike the above entry, this manga is more of a lighthearted romp which utilizes one of the oldest tropes in the book for its lead…meeting a former childhood friend. You may cue your groans now. Also unlike the above manga, this chooses to focus more on the dynamics between the characters and how they play out over the course of the lead’s romantic and sexual entanglements at – you guessed it – lesbian brothels.

It’s actually kind of silly if you stop to think about it (how many college students do you know who blow their paychecks on gacha and brothels?) so some suspension of disbelief is required ot enjoy it. I think I put it on this list because of how unabashedly YURI it is, even more so than genre classics like Maria Sama ga Miteiru.

Unfinished at the time of this writing. It’s also NSFW, but the sex scenes are draw well and tastefully IMHO.

What Did You Eat Yesterday?

Not a manga I would normally read, this is a very slow-paced slice of life manga about a gay lawyer and his hairdresser boyfriend. It deals with such mundanities such as doing the laundry, getting skim milk at a discount and watching your cholesterol at middle age. Not very exciting stuff now, is it? 🙂

The devil, as they would say, is in the details. This is not a manga you want to read if you’re looking for grip the edges of your chair in excitement. Nor is it a manga to read if you want to deal with hard-hitting societal issues or laugh out loud every minute. This is a manga to read if you’re looking for something relaxing, slow-paced and…obsessed with food.

Well, maybe obsessed is putting it a little too strongly. The manga delights in the minute details that go into preparation of food – from cutting, slicing, chopping vegetables and simple tasks like boiling water. It’s in these details of everyday life that you see how close the lovers truly are, and how there is a certain je ne sais quoi in the humdrum nature of daily existence. While I wouldn’t go so far as to say there is tons of wabi-sabi (the Japanese awareness centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection) it does have a somewhat unique aesthetic of its own.

It’s a simple enough story that just shows normal people going about their lives – whether grocery shopping, having a hard day at work or kicking back with a few beers and a good TV show. Matters like still being closeted at work, parental acceptance and legal entanglements relating to being gay are treated matter-of-factly and without any fanfare, pomp or circumstance.

I typically like my romances and manga more dramatic, but it takes all types to make the world, and one thing I love about manga is the diversity of the artform. So if you’re looking for something a little more slow-paced, you may want to check this one out.

The author has doujinshi of this work for those of you who actually want to see the lovers consummate their relationship (the manga is SFW)

Our Dreams at Dusk

If the beautiful, highly stylized and detailed line art doesn’t draw you in, then the treatment of ostracizsm and suicide risk should. The story follows a gay teenager who is forcibly outed and meets other queer folx at a house which becomes sort of a home away from home to him. Like Love Me For Who I Am above, it deals with the entire spectrum of queerness – from homosexuality to crossdressing. Unlike the above though, it also has a prominent asexual character, which is something that I haven’t seen much of in media (that and demisexuality)

While the main character’s struggle to accept himself and others is poignant, I found the romance between one of the gay gentlemen in the story to be especially heartwarming. We don’t often see depictions of older queer folk, and this manga brings to light something I’ve experienced in my life often as well – that being born queer in a different time and era makes for a very different tale.

It’s easy to forget and take for granted that some of the civil liberties that some populations enjoy today (gay marriage being legal in most G1 nations, for instance) were born from much sacrifice and tragedy. While I enjoy the flush of first love, there is much to say about the slow burn of a lifetime relationship, and the older lovers in this work captured my attention in a way that few others have.

I feel that this is a good read in general – soft in some places, sparing no expense at drama in others. It’s realistic with a slight touch of magic in its dreamy air and evocative
artwork.

The Red Hooded Girl. That’s all they talked about in these parts. Who was she, really? A crimson ghost who flitted through the night, or a spirit that haunted the woods? A tale made up to scare children, or an actual person who had killed so many that people told stories about her?

They said she was beautiful, too, but that’s what all men say about the women they can’t have. They said that if you crossed her path, you’d better pay her or risk dying a gruesome death. They said a lot of things and some were even true.

The truth, like most matters, was somewhere between fantasy and reality. And who knew it best but the red-hooded girl herself, who was at this moment trudging through the remains of a minefield on her way to her grandmother’s house. The war between the North and South had intensified in recent years, and as was always the case, the common folk bore the brunt of it.

April (for that was her name) looked out over the torn earth and sighed. No one would ever plant anything in these parts ever again. Where there had once been potatoes aplenty now, now there was only ragged and broken earth. Nothing would ever grow here again…not when it had been mined, at least.

She sighed again and then checked herself. No point in wasting breath on what couldn’t be changed. Besides, she had somewhere to go and a mission to fulfill. A quick check in her pockets revealed that yes, her package was still there.

This was a priority mission. She didn’t get many of those…usually her handlers told her “get it there in a reasonable timeframe and don’t die on us” This one was “get it there ASAP, before next week and we don’t care who gets killed” So whatever it was, it was important.

It was also a good opportunity to see Grandma again. She hadn’t seen the old crone in ages. It had been too long – far too long. “It’s the war” they all said, and they were right. Checkpoints had been set up on all major roads, restricting movements and you needed papers to get from one region to another now. What a pain in the neck.

She was too good of a courier to check the contents of what she’d been given – that was a strict no-no in her line of work. Still, she could guess. Grandma was the best maker of explosives for a thousand miles in all directions. Not really one for potions, but boy, could she mix a mean bomb.

That was probably what they wanted. She could think of a lot of targets off the top of her head that the higher-ups would want taken out…but it wasn’t her place to speculate. She was a courier, so she just needed to get to Grandma’s.

She was a lot of other things too…but it was one mission at a time.

It wasn’t safe for a young girl to be travelling between the borders, but she was no normal girl. Still, her youthful looks sufficed enough that she wasn’t asked for identification much, nor did anyone ask to see the inside of her basket. She looked for all the world like a simple girl from the countryside – which was of course what she wanted the world to see.

Most of the borders guards didn’t ask too many questions, and when they did, her papers all checked out. “Going to visit a relative?” more than one of them would say, nodding approvingly. “Good to see. Family values are important in dark times like these.”

“Stay on the road, and don’t talk to strangers.” One of the guards had warned her at the last station she visited. She’d just smiled sweetly and nodded. If only they knew how true their words were.

It was about two towns south of the border when she saw the sign. The inn’s plaque had been turned around to face the left – that meant her contact would be in the usual place. She hurried to the drop and fished a note out of the old mailbox that they always used.

Hmm. Same place as always, the hut in the woods. They could stand to vary their routine a little. It was dangerous to use the same location too many times – any spy worth his salt knew that. Still, things had been hectic recently.

The hunter was waiting for her when she arrived. He had the stench of blood on him – he’d killed recently. She knocked on the door with the right code and he opened it, glancing at her with a frown.

“They told me you’d be here sooner.”

“Border patrols. I came as fast as I could.” She said smoothly. “What’s the situation?”

“No change. Just keep going. We’ll keep the roads safe for as long as we can.” He paused a little before continuing. “We’ve lost a lot of good men recently. We can’t afford to lose you too.”

April had to agree with that. New hunters could always be trained, but what she did was hard to replicate. She knew the lay of the land like most others did not, and she had field experience that was impossible to mimic. Plus, there was the matter of her…gifts.

“How many this month?” she asked.

“About twelve.”

“Good hunting, then.”

The hunter just shrugged. “In a manner of speaking. We’d prefer it if they stayed in their dens, but they aren’t, so…”

April smiled sympathetically. The war made everything that much harder. Ever since the North had thrown in their lot with the King’s minions, things had been hard going for them.

Theirs wasn’t a large organization by any means, and to do what they did required a certain amount of stealth and swift action. They also weren’t technically supposed to take sides, but that was becoming harder to do every day.

“Alright…I’d best be going then. Do you have anything for me?”

“Just the usual.” The cloaked man pointed to another basket on a dirty table in the center of the room. “Supplies, refills and the necessary papers.”

“Good enough.” She picked it up and prepared to leave, but the worried look in her compatriot’s eyes made her stop before she was out the door. “What is it, Markus? It isn’t like you to be so concerned.”

The hunter gave a soft harumph, but his expression didn’t change. “April? Be careful. There are wolves about.”

“I know how to take care of myself, you know.” She said lightly.

“I’m sure you do, but one can’t be too careful in times like these.”

“You worry too much.” Were her last words before she closed the door and set out into the night.

“Never travel by night” Those words had been drummed into everyone who lived between North and South, and for good reason…there were monsters around at night. Human ones as well – many a traveler had had their lives claimed by highwaymen or robbers who laid in wait to take both life and coin.

But her mission didn’t exactly leave her with any choice. She had to get there, and fast. So she eschewed the relative safety of the cities and struck out over the countryside, trusting that the shortcuts she knew were still functioning and would get her to where she wanted to go.

She was right. It only took about one day and night of walking – where fortunately nothing much happened – before she neared the forests where her Grandma resided in. In truth, she had expected some form of trouble, but she wasn’t about to look at her fortune askance, and so she heaved a sigh of relief with the familiar greens and browns of the woods came into view.

It was a short walk into the forest – short for her, of course, because she knew the hidden byways and passages that would lead to Grandma’s place. But when she got there, she knew something was wrong before she even stepped into the house. There was no smell of potions brewing, none of the steady hum and crackle of magic.

There weren’t even any cats to greet her as she opened the front door – what kind of a witch’s house was without its resident familiars? But she kept her face neutral and her guard up as she walked in. It wouldn’t do to have whoever was in there – and she’s seen other footsteps outside – know that she smelled a rat.

“Come in, dear!” came a voice from the kitchen. “Tea’s almost ready!”

Well, now. That did actually sound like Grandma. It could have fooled her if she hadn’t already been prepared. April decided to play along and walked into the kitchen, keeping her basket close.

Her grandmother – or someone who looked very like her – beamed at her as she entered, gesturing to the table. There were two cups of steaming tea laid out, and they looked very inviting indeed.

“Sit down, dearie. I’m sure you’ve had a long journey.” Said the old woman, taking a seat and helping herself to one of the cups. “You can tell me all about it while you relax.”

It was so cliché that she almost laughed at loud. Did they take her for a fool? They were going to drink up first and then drug her when she saw that the drink was safe…as if she hadn’t already realized something was seriously wrong.

But she continued to play along, sitting down and feigning delight as she picked up a cup. But she kept her eyes trained on the other woman, watching closely as to what she would do when she put her basket down.

Her gun was already out and firing when the glamour dropped and the wolf lunged for it. The bullets hit square in the chest, flinging him back into a bloody heap.

The wolf had been fast, but she was faster still. She didn’t think for one moment that her grandma was actually anywhere in the cottage. No, that was a foregone conclusion when she’d entered and couldn’t see the parrot in the mantelpiece anymore. That had been a sign that they had both agreed on for safety.

She’d mourn her later. Right now she had to sort out this mess. This charade had gone on long enough.

“The resistance sends its regards.” She said as she advanced on the wolf, her pistol still smoking.

“How…how did you know?” it managed to growl. Now that its concealing magic was gone, the sheer size of the werewolf was revealed – it was a big one. One swipe of its claws and she would be laid open from head to toe. Good thing that it hadn’t gotten a chance to attack her…nor did the last five that had tried. She was good at what she did.

“Simple. Your smell. I’ve hunted many of your kind before. And don’t bother trying to crawl somewhere and regenerate – I’ve seen that trick and dealt with it. Buckshot laced with silver is what I shot you with. Your death will be slow and painful.”

The wolf wheezed and spat, but he knew that he was done for. It made a last desperate lunge for April, who sidestepped easily. She cocked her weapon again, debating firing another round into the beast to make sure, but decided against it. No sense in wasting ammo.

“You…you bitch! Just wait till I…” the wolf growled, trying and failing to get to its feet. It spat out another gout of blood, then slumped back down, it’s eyes already going bloodshot. That would be the silver working.

The girl was already halfway to the door, and she sniffed in the dying wolf’s general direction. “That’s an empty threat and you know it. Next time you’ll think before throwing your lot in with those who oppress the weak and poor…oh wait. I forgot. There will be no next time.”

Now, time to get the rest of the mess sorted out. There was a leak in the security somewhere, of that she was certain. They’d have to find out who was the mole. Then she’d have to get the package to another witch who could make the best use of it. First of all, she had to make a report at the nearest safehouse they had, which was…north of here, if her memory served.

April sighed and set out on the trail that would leave her out of the woods. And she had just been looking forwards to talking to Grandma. The old crone wasn’t her actual blood relative, of course – she had none left. But she had been a aunt-like figure to her and many of the resistance, and now they were without a bomb maker.

More things that the King would have to pay for eventually, when the time was right. For now she just needed to get to safety as soon as she could.

So thus ends the tale of the red-hooded girl…for now, at least. Not so little, nor really a girl – for her time spend running errands for the resistance that stood against the Shadow King and his many minions had hardened her and stripped her of what naivete she might have at one time possessed.

The wolves knew of her name and feared it, and she continued to ferry dangerous materials to where they where needed, so that a revolution might commence…but that is a tale for another time.

It's time for the event of the century, for the millennium, for indeed all of Creation! Yes folks, it's that time you've been waiting for, the End of the World! (As We Know It!)

We'll start with a brief history of time. Some say all this started with the Big Bang, or the Cosmic Explosion, or maybe some old guy worked for seven days and just decided to call it a day. Or everything has always been here and there has been no real "beginning" to speak of...or a giant chicken on top of a turtle hatched the whole shebang out of an egg.

I have no idea and I don't really care in any case because it's all going to be ending soon!

However Creation began, you can be sure that folks all over the Universe are celebrating its end in style. Let's take a peek at some of what I've been seeing!

Times Square, New York City - Planet Earth

Let's start the party by going to Times Square in New York City on Planet Earth.

Say one thing for Earthlings – they sure know how to party. Homo sapiens isn't going to be upstaged by anyone – no siree! They're dancing, singing, getting drunk and generally having a grand old time.

Everyone – well, mostly everyone - is out in full force, taking to the streets and…well, what do we have here? It's a procession, with a marching band and floats and all! It looks like the municipal authorities aren't going to miss out on any of the fun. They've cordoned off the streets and they're yellow tape to guide everyone to safe zones…and of course a bunch of taxis arguing with the police officers.

Live from the scene, I bring you exactly what they're saying!

"Listen, you pea-brained @#(&&#@#! I don't care what the city says, I need to make a living! And you #)I)@#"

"Well, how about you get your #@(@ fingers out of your @#(@# ears and…"

Hmmm. Perhaps that might be a little spicy for all our viewers. Well, it just wouldn't be New York without some creative language, eh?

Let's go further down the street. I can see pennants, music, and booze, of course – lots of it, free flowing. Some people are organizing games, and others have taken off their shirts. This is going to be the block party to end all block parties!

And of course some people are just going about their daily lives, oblivious of the fact that it will all end tomorrow. Maybe they think it's just another hoax and everything will just die down in good time. I can't say I blame them – if I had to put up with people carrying signs talking about the End Times all the damn time, maybe I would think they're crying wolf too!

(But didn't they get the memo? I'm pretty sure that the Powers That Be sent one to every mailbox in the known universe…well, you can never tell with humans. They fight each other one day, make love the next and then put it all on TV – and they think other species are weird!)

We'll come back to this later. We've got a full half a day before everything goes poof, and we don't want to be wasting it just people-watching. Let's move on!

The Temple of Radoom - Venus

Here we are in the Temple of Radoom, on Venus.

It's dark in here, isn't it? The clergy is chanting in complete darkness, no lights at all. It's a sacred edict of some sort, I think. We wouldn't even be allowed in…which is why I have a cloaking device and a portable teleporter! Ah, the things I do for everyone in the name of journalism!

It seems like these priests don't have any idea of how to have a good time. How could they? They're priests! Even with the dissolution of everything coming up, all they do is pray and chant and pray. Seems boring to me, but hey, what do I know. I'm a heathen by their estimation.

Hmm, I can't really interview anyone or risk blowing my cover, and I don't think anyone would be interested in five more minutes of this…or even five seconds.

Chanting, shadows, more chanting…oh there's a light! Oh wait it's just the head priest telling them to switch to the next book and maintain the vigil.

Hmmm.

Let's go someplace a bit more interesting, shall we?

The Intergalactic Concert

According to my sources, death metal is kind of passe these days, and so intergalactic rock! I'm not even certain what this band is playing, but I plan to find out? If I can actually hear myself talk in here, that is – they are sure playing loud!

These dudes are giving the humans are run for their money, that's for sure! This is going to be the concert to end all concerts! I see bands from all over the galaxy here – Jupiter jazz, Meltonian lingbroso (don't ask me what that is) and sounds that aren't even on any identifiable spectrum! I hear you need to attune to the astral plane to even hear a little of it!

Music is not my normal beat, but I am totally digging the energy here. Look at these bands! These guys have been waiting since forever to party, and now that the time has come, they're going to go out with a bang! Yes, I know everyone and everything is going to go out with a bang at once, but they are more hardcore than most.

It looks like the loudest of the line-up is taking center stage! Get a load of these guys…man, look at what they're wearing! It looks like battle armor – heads on spikes, glowing paint, and – are those lasers attached to their instruments? Talk about special effects! I hope their makeup guy geta a raise, because he sure as hell deserves one!

Oh, wait, one of their pit crew is motioning to me…looks like he's noticed my coverage! What's that you say?

It really IS battle armor? They're warrior princes from another galaxy…they fight with their weapons…drink the blood of their enemies – so wait, those heads are real?

They're starting up…and one of them just blew up a speaker! Looks like it's ALL real, folks!

What are they playing? Let's hear it from one of the lead singers, shall we?

What's that? I can't hear you over the noise of the laser saws and the - what was that? speeddeathintergalacticpostapocalypticelectropunkmetalrockfusi...that's quite a mouthful! I'm not sure that the viewers at home will be able to get all that. Explain it a little slower?

So you feast on the souls of your fallen enemies and make music about it, which combines the best genres of everything that's come before…cool. Very cool. And your amps also absorb the quantum energy of your playing, which allows you to travel dimensions and amplify the brainwaves of your fans, which means that your sound also travels through all known dimensions and back in time?

Thanks for the explanation. I'm not sure I quite understand it, or the music, but it sure fits the occasion!

Let's hear it for the Cosmic Slayers of Multidimensional Darkness, people!

The Intrepid Spaceship

Now we're off to another – hopefully quieter – venue.

A spaceship, the Intrepid to be precise. Front row seats of the spectacle of the century, no, the millennium, no, the - well, it's the biggest event of all time, actually. I know I keep saying that, but it's true. Because after this, there will BE no time!

I haven't snuck on this time – I'm here courtesy of the captain's invitation. Apparently their waitlist is a few thousand names long and not everyone could make it, so they are letting those that can't get an eyeful of the action. Very gracious of him.

Love the seats. They're upholstered with the finest Beluasine leather, but that's nothing compared to the food and drink. They've spared no expense to get Rigellian crustacea, Venusian fungi, Botwellian energy cubes and even some KFC. I'm not sure I'd even move from the buffet if I was a guest here.

A staff member's nearby. I think he/she/it wants to talk to me. What's that? Keep it down? Oh, I must apologize. I'm not used to being…this…quiet.

There. Is that better? Alright.

They say the crew here have served for a long time, over a thousand years in fact. They offended a deity from some unknown plane and they were pressed into eternal servitude – it's a rum deal, except for the eternal life part. Some people would kill for that. Also, I hear the benefits package is great, and they even get dental.

All this talking and we haven't even gotten to the main event yet. Let me ask one of the crew members how to get there…ah, alright, he says he'll walk me to it. Wow, don't you just love the décor here? And the layout? Very posh, very subtle.

Alright, here we are at the bridge, and we're staring right at it. Yes, folks, this is the actual Beginning of the End itself. It's starting with a quantum singularity at the end of spacetime, which is slowly collapsing all matter into its component particles. Doesn't it just bring a tear to your eye?

It's doing so for a few of the guests here. Some are just watching, some are enjoying the cuisine, and some of them are even writing poetry. I would go closer but this is a very exclusive clientele, very hush hush. They like their privacy.

So back to the singularity. It's beautiful, isn't it? Seeing order give way to chaos and entropy consume the building blocks of creation…it's the heat death of all things, coming to you live. You watched it here first, folks, on Galactic TV.

And now a word from our sponsor – oh wait, I won't need to do that anymore. Sorry people, old habits die hard.

Alright, let's mosey on down someplace else for now.

The Martial Arts Convention with Xifarg

I'll admit it – I'm just one guy, and so I sometimes can't cover everything myself. That's why I have the OTHER best reporter from Galactic TV help me out. Say hello to Xifarg!

Now, he doesn't speak English like me, but his instincts are top-notch – having eight ears and four eyes certainly helps. He's been here before, and so I'll just translate what he's saying.

This is...what IS this, Xifarg? Would you care to enlighten us? A martial arts convention? That's interesting. I would have thought it was a wrestling match, judging from the ring…but whoa, are those golden statues I see? And drums and a gong?

Xifarg says it's all part of the ceremony. The greatest warriors from all time and space will gather here in a final match to decide who is truly the strongest. Sounds like something you won't want to miss!

Let's see who's on. Right now we have Attila the Hun is going head to head with some kind of octopus monster – and ooops, he got eaten. Well, that was fast. It just goes to show you that being top dog on one world might not mean anything in another.

After this we have a robot killing machine from Betelgeuse III going up against a Valkyrie in shining armor. The robot looks tough…he's got laser cannons, blinking eyes, and a nasty looking electrical prod of some kind. The Valkyrie has…armor and a sword.

I'm not a betting man, but if I was, I wouldn't wager that – and the Valkyrie takes out the robot with a single swipe. Good thing I didn't put any money on this fight, if not I would have – Xifarg, you can stop laughing now. You're staining the floor and making me look bad.

Where are they getting all these fighters from, anyway? Some of them are dead, as far as I know…ah, alright. Xifarg is saying that it's special dispensation from the Netherworld, which is where we're off too next. I enjoy a good fight as much as the next reporter, but we've got a lot of ground to cover today, so we can't linger!

The Netherworld

The Netherworld. It's not all gloom and doom here, though. They know how to party, though it's a somewhat quieter affair. Oh, a waitress is coming my way. Why, yes I will have some blood wine served in an eyeless skull, thank you.

We have quite the convocation of gods and demons here. Maybe that's why they let the damned souls out – there would be no one to keep watch on them otherwise. Some of them are dancing, cavorting, and indulging in the bacchanal delights that you would expect. Let's go a little closer and –

BROADCAST TEMPORARILY SUSPENDED

What do you mean, against network regulations? This is a special occasion, and…oh, alright. Yes, yes, I'm not about to get into a fight with my supervisor. Let's cover the less…explicit goings-on here.

I'm curious to see what gods and demons might be up to right before the world ends. They're talking up a storm in there. What are they doing?

It's a…debate? Hmm. Let's see, each of them is taking the podium and stating their platforms. It's all very civilized. No lightning bolts or hellfire. It's a little…boring, if you ask me.

Let me ask one of the minor gods here what this is all about. What's that? Oh, hmm…apparently godhood is all about getting a platform and being able to grant the wishes of your supplicants. You need to make sure that you don't overpromise or underdeliver.

So why the debate? Well, they want to see who has the best platform, and since no one can come to a consensus, they decided to talk about it. And from the looks of things, it's trickier than you might expect. You would think that good fortune outweighs pestilence as a promise any day, but there are apparently a lot of people who want to see others suffer…

It's getting kind of wordy in here, and I never did well in my debate club back in high school – only joined because my dad forced me too. This is not what I'd choose to do with my last hours in Creation. But I'm only a lowly mortal.

Let's move on, shall we?

The Black Hole Dance Club

What's a countdown without a dance party? I know we were at Times Square earlier, but this is different. They call this place the Black Hole, one of the hottest dance clubs in the known universe - why? I shouldn't need to spell it out for you…because it's actually IN a black hole, for one!

I can see that they've really pulled out all the stops for this one. They have Revna and the Stellars here playing to a packed house, as well as go-go dancers who are riding the beams of the lightshow they have going on. The DJ Legion is spinning the beats too – all fifty of them. It's pretty crowded in here, isn't it? And the music is pretty loud, I can barely hear myself think!

The audience here really knows how to get their groove on, though. I'm seeing dancing like I've never seen before. We have angels tangoing with zombies, and with half of the room in zero gravity, there is a whole lot of gyration going on.

I would normally grab a drink at the bar – maybe a Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster for good times – but the queue is WAY too long. And they have a couple of archfiend bouncers making sure the rules are obeyed, so I'm going to behave for once.

Everyone is letting their hair down, even the scientists back there. Look at that one - yeah, the one with the four wings shimmying to the beat. I guess eggheads here know how to have a good time.

Alright, I think we've seen enough for now, although it was definitely a blast!

Atlantis

Underwater. That IS a nice locale. Xifarg, you really know how to pick'em!

Atlantis? I thought this place went kaboom years ago. Apparently not! But there's not much of a party atmosphere here. Let me ask an attendant what's going on.

Oh, well now, apparently the entire kingdom has been trapped in a space-time bubble that they created during experiments centuries ago – which was why Atlantis was wiped off the face of the map. The coming apocalypse has released them from their prison…only to learn that it's all going to end soon.

That would account for all the frowns I see here. Hey, at least they get to say good-bye one last time before…hmm, maybe I'd better not say that too loud.

It is a beautiful place, though. Look at that glowing coral! And I'm pretty sure most of the species I'm seeing have been extinct for a long time. Actually…maybe it's all for the best. I'm not sure the Atlanteans would take kindly to how much of a mess Earth's oceans have become.

This has been a pleasant little detour, but I plan on covering more action, so Bruce is back on the prowl!

Back to Times Square

Let's go back to see what's happening in Times Square. I guess I get homesick from time to time. I'm from Earth you know!

The party has spread to all of the city now, and everyone looks to be having a good time. They have some big TVs set up that show the action in all major cities, and yep – it's the same all across the globe. Makes me want to just jump on down and start boogeying with the best of them!

A special news broadcast is coming on – let's see what it's all about. Alright, we have celebrities and world leaders talking about what they've like to see in the new Creation! A great topic, and very optimistic indeed. One thing you can say about humanity – whatever happens, they keep on trucking. Imagine thinking about the new universe when the old one hasn't even ended yet!

Let me just grab a slice here – talking makes you hungry, you know!

Okay, judging by the look of things, they haven't dropped the ball yet, so we still have some time, probably just one last place we can check out before it's all over.

Castle in the Sky - Astoria

A castle in the sky. Now that's an ideal place to watch the end of the world from!

We're in the heavens of Astoria, which my foreign correspondent tells me is a world that resembles what we Earthlings would call high fantasy. I tried to get into the heaven back on Earth, but they have a strict no press policy. Sorry, folks, I did what I could.

But this is pretty good too. Most of the landmass below is already getting destroyed, as you can see – you can watch it safely with the scrying crystals they've installed. We've getting refugees by the boatload up here, and they're coming by airship, dragon, pegasi…traffic must be a nightmare.

The mood here is quite festive despite all the devastation down below. Apparently this also means the end of a war that's been going on for hundreds of years, so reconciliation is in the air. Here we have demons who are burying the hatchet with some archdruids. I'm not up to snuff with Astorian history, but apparently the destruction of the cursed stones below means that mana can be released into the atmosphere now, and –

Whoa, what's this I'm seeing? One of the demons is…getting down on one knee? Is he going to do a ritual of some kind? I thought those were prohibited in…

Oh no, he's proposing! To two of the archdruids! They're blushing…and they're saying yes!

Wow, things have just gotten heated in here. One of the sages that has just arrived in his chariot says that this fulfills a prophecy made that at the end of the world, there will be lasting peace and – you know what? It's all too complex for me.

I just want to go congratulate the newly engaged. Sniff…I love a happy ending, don't you all?

Alright, let's give them all some privacy. Back at the scrying pools, there is lyre music for those of you who found the music at our previous venues too loud. The satyrs with panpipes here are equally as skilled, but just a little more low-key.

It's all very pleasant, and I wish we could hang out a little longer, but I'm afraid that we have to wrap things up.

The Final Countdown

Here we are back at Times Square – and the party's most definitely in full swing, folks! Time to break out the champagne if you haven't already, because we only have less than an hour left!

They've begun hoisting the ball up…man, that brings back memories. There was one winter's evening I was in Times Square, and I had a date, and…what's that Xifarg?

You…what's this? It's a piece of your last claw? You'll have to explain this to me, mate…I don't know much about Xenusian culture.

Ever since you met me, you thought I was the handsomest sapient you'd ever laid eyes on? Oh my…I…I don't know what to say. And here I thought I was the only one who…

It's a little bit embarrassing saying all this on TV, but hey, reporters are human too. And the world is ending in a bit, so what the heck.

Oh, Xifrag! I never knew! Of course I'll marry you!

He's putting his claw in my hand…it's that just so romantic? And I don't think we'll have to worry about our honeymoon, because well, it looks like the sky is actually opening up!

Are you seeing this, folks! The heavenly host is descending, and the fabric of spacetime is actually dissolving as we speak! Keep your eyes peeled for – oh wait, it's happening everywhere all at once now, it's it? No real need for the broadcast anymore…so!

This is Bruce Letzinger, signing off one last time! Have a great one!

Hello, true believers, and Excelsior! Oh wait, I'm not writing about American comics (apologies to Stan Lee) but about its counterpart over the Pacific, anime.

You can't have watched any amount of anime and failed to notice the same names coming up again and again. So here's where I will explain some aspects of Japanese names, as well as what the most common ones mean.

Sakura

Sakura – If I had a dollar for every time I saw this name anywhere in Japan, I would be a billionaire. It's a very common name, and for good reason – it means cherry blossom.

The flower has deep cultural meaning to the Japanese people. They bloom every year in the springtime, and flowering views parties called Hanami (literally, seeing the flowers) are a common occurrence during that time as co-workers, friends, schoolmates and families gather beneath the blossoming trees. Some hardcore watchers even follow the "front" which is different every year, trying to time their viewing just right as the blooms spread across the nation.

The samurai of ancient Japan thought the flower – with its short lifespan and elegant beauty – symbolized the ephemeral and fleeting nature of existence on the mortal plane.

So whether you are Sakura Kasugano from Street Fighter or Sakura from Card Captor Sakura or any one of a hundred others, that's where the name comes from!

Akira

Akira means intelligent, clear or bright. While a unisex name, it's generally given to male children. Much like cultures all over the world, Japanese children are typically named after things that their parents would like them to be, or for qualities that they wish they had or will develop. Just as in English we have Justin (Just) and Gerald (power of the spear, apparently – I had to look that up!) and Mei (beautiful) often appears in female Chinese names, Japanese is not very different in this regard.

Akira pops up a lot in anime – ranging from Akira Toriyama, the artist of DBZ (sadly deceased) to the seminal 90s anime, Akira.

Subaru

Subaru is actually the Japanese name for the constellation of Pleiades. Depending on how it is written, it can mean either "unity" or "ascension".

A car company is named after it as well, with the story being that a few car companies decided to merge to form a bigger one (much like Voltron, maybe) and taking the name Subaru to signify that.

While usually given to males, we have Subaru Ryoko from Martian Successor Nadesico. Subaru Sumeragi from X/Tokyo Babylon is a bearer of this name, as are many others.

(I'm only going to give one or two examples per name, if not I would be utterly swamped! Interested readers can Google for more information.)

Yuri

Yuri simply means lily, as in the flower. Longer-term anime fans will probably also know that it is a slang term for lesbians. (maybe not that "slangy" anymore, as Yuricon has been in existence for decades now…)

Depending on how it is written, it can be used for either males or females. Wikipedia explains yuri a little more. "White lilies have been used since the Romantic era of Japanese literature to symbolize beauty and purity in women, and are a de facto symbol of the yuri genre."

What you may not know is that in Japanese, there is a term called hana kotoba ("the language of flowers") in which each blossom has a particular meaning to it. (similar to how in English a rose symbolizes romance) Many Japanese names (too long to list here) derive their meanings from hanakotoba as well, and as you would expect, lilies are well represented. Here is the Wikipedia article for a more complete list

We can see that names like Sumire (Sakura Taisen) Tsubaki (also from the same) and others often appear, generally (but not always) taking their hana kotoba meanings with them.

Other Common Names

Let's finish off the list with some of the other more commonly found names.

Megumi

Megumi can mean "blessing" "favor" or "grace". Just like Constance and Charity are names for female children in English, Megumi is a reasonably common one for female Japanese kids.

One doesn't need to go far to find famous Megumis – Megumi Hayashibara (who should be a household name if you know anything at all about seiyuu) is one.

Takeshi

Takeshi generally means "warrior" or "strength" – or any one of a number of possible things, all associated with masculine energy. This is definitely a male-only name!

Brock in Pokemon is actually Takeshi in Japanese (just like Ash is actually Satoshi, and Misty is Kasumi…unlike the guys, Kasumi actually means "mist")

Akane

Akane pops up a lot too, and simply means "deep red" or "brilliant red" Akane Tendo (from Ranma ½) may be one of the more famous bearers of this name – among many others.

Isamu

Isamu means "bravery", "courage" or "merit" – think of it as a variation of Takeshi above. Isamu Dyson from Macross Plus is well represented here.

Makoto

And last but not least, let's end the list with Makoto, meaning "true" or "sincere." This is another unisex name and belongs to characters as disparate as the karateka from Street Fighter 3 to Sailor Jupiter.

(Just as an aside – and because I don't want to write an entire other article about it – the Sailor Senshi are named after the planets. Tsukino Usagi is literally "rabbit of the moon" Mizuno Ami is "beauty of water" (representing Mercury) Hino Rei is "spirit of fire" (as Mars is technically associated with flame) and so on.)

Closing Thoughts

I hope you've enjoyed this shorter than normal article about some commonly used anime names and what they may mean.

This is not to say that ALL names in anime have meaning. Just like in real life, some names are just…names and were not picked for any special reason. However, a good many have special significance in some way or another, so I hope that this article has at least clued you in to some of the meaning behind them.

This is a decent article that goes into the specifics of some names, although it's not entirely correct about "hiragana is used for female names"

Where does the term "otaku?" originate from? How about terms like waifu and husbando?

Once again, Wikipedia is comprehensive.

But I'll do a short version. Otaku has had negative connotations in Japanese due to a high profile murder case, but it generally means "nerd" or "hardcore fan" about anything – not necessarily anime.

The term then came over to Western audiences in the late 90s to 2000s, and is used in the fandom today without much of its original negative meaning. Fans as well as anime companies and marketers use the term pretty often, so much so that it's a pretty well known word in the anime space.

For Western audiences, it might be rendered as "anime fan who knows a lot" as an approximation.

Waifu and Husbando

Waifu and husbando are definitely slang terms, as are the various -deres. (see below)

"Waifu" was first used in Azumanga Daioh (to the best of anyone's memory) being how a crappy English teacher introduced his wife as "Mai waifu". "Husbando" is simply husband with the -o appended, because that's how many loanwords from English end. (For example, if I were to romanize No Game No Life, it would be "No Geemu No Raifu" because there's no "f" ending in Japanese)

A waifu is sort of an imaginary crush on an anime character who you would love to be your wife in real life. It's usually used as a tongue in cheek joke, but there are stories of fans who are unable to differentiate between reality and fantasy, which is pretty sad.

Here is an academic article if you want to dive deep into the subject.

These are good examples of how fandoms can interrelate. Given the increased multiculturalism of today's world, there is more linguistic drift between fandoms, and things are no longer as segregated as they were back about 20 years ago. For instance, we can see suffixes and honorifics like -kun and -chan used directly in games like Persona now, whereas before they would have to be translated without definitions.

(For the linguistically inclined, -kun often gets rendered as "my lad" or 'm'boy" when an older person is using it, while -chan is a dimunitive like -tito in Spanish)

The -deres. These are most definitely slang terms which you need to be quite the otaku to know. They are not in common use in normal Japanese – and I know because I had to define them to a Japanese friend of mine (some others knew them though, which led to much hilarity ensuing)

In general, Wikipedia will give you complete answers, but it tends to be technical and dry, unlike my articles, which are short and entertaining (I hope!) But jokes aside, I typically don't go very deep in short pieces like this one.

Why do most mecha anime main characters have no Dads?

Mecha anime had its golden age in the 80s – also coinciding with the zenith of Japan's bubble economy. So fathers were out working a lot, and since the target audience tended to be 15-30s males…well, it wouldn't make sense to create characters that they couldn't relate to, would it?

While this trend is not as prevalent as in the 80s, it's still around, and for much of the same reasons. Anime is a cultural product of its country, and socioeconomics affect it like just everything else.

(While I don't read this often, it's around - Animemonics)

Why do Japanese schoolgirls always wear "sailor uniforms"?

Believe it or not, that's actually normal attire for Japanese schools. I can still remember one day when Japanese students visited my high school and one of my classmates went around saying "they look like they're in Sailor Moon!"

Yes, they do actually wear sailor fuku, although usually much longer and showing much less skin. Google for reference. And the boys do actually wear the suits called gakuran. Both are modelled on European naval styles dating back 150 years.

Why do certain mythological terms keep on cropping up in anime?

Amaterasu, Susanoo, Orochi…betcha didn't know they WERE names from Japanese folklore, now didya? I snuck this in here so I wouldn't have to write a separate article about it…though you never know, I just might!

And obviously being from Japan, you would expect there to be a lot of mythological references in anime!

Here is a pretty decent article on the subject

Key Mythological Figures

Susanoo: The younger brother of Amaterasu, goddess of the sun and mythical ancestress of the Japanese imperial line, he is a multifaceted deity with contradictory characteristics (both good and bad), being portrayed in various stories either as a wild, impetuous god associated with the sea and storms, as a heroic figure who killed a monstrous serpent, or as a local deity linked with the harvest and agriculture (from Wikipedia)

The various versions of Susanoo are why you see him portrayed in various ways, from the huge chakra being in Naruto to a cyborg ninja in Blazblue. But he's generally associated with strength and power in various guises.

Susanoo in Okami is perhaps the most true to his actual mythological roots, seeing as the game is about Japanese mythology.

Amaterasu: She is the goddess of the sun ("the shining heavens", literally) and the principal deity of the Shinto religion.

She is still worshipped today, with many shrines to her in various locales in Japan.

Orochi: Yamata no Orochi or simply Orochi is a legendary eight-headed and eight-tailed dragon or serpent. It is fought by Susanoo (see above) who saves a village girl from being sacrificed to it by tricking it into drinking wine so that he can slay it more easily.

It's interesting to note that there are many parallels in folktales all around the world – the trope of a wily warrior overcome a monstrous foe is quite common, as is a storm god facing off against a serpent of some kind (Thor vs Jormugandr etc)

I direct interested parties to The Morphology of the Folktale and the ATU index, though those are definitely more academic in nature and scope.

What are those teardrop shaped beads I keep seeing?

They're called Magatama. They've been around since Japanese prehistory, 300 to 400 AD. "Maga" is curved, and "tama" is soul or spirit.

Like the author of this piece says, I also think there is definitely some connection between their shape and that of the yin-yang symbol.

Magatama have been traditionally used as symbols of good fortune and to ward off evil, which is why you see so many supernatural anime use them. They are pretty ubiquitous talismans, similar to a cross in Western cultures.

What's with all the spiky hair?

So this is a really excellent article series which sheds a lot of light on some of these queries.

The Buddhist's guide to Asura's Wrath! You can see that the ancient statues of Buddhist deities look like the DBZ characters – although that should really be the other way around. In Buddhism there are "kishin" (fierce deities) as well as vajra, benevolent deities and wargods which generally kick a lot of ass in the name of good…sound familiar?

Also, spiky hair is a good way to make characters stand out, and anime is generally a exaggerated art style.

Those are just some of the more commonly asked questions I've found that anime fans have.

If you don't already know, ANN has a pretty good article column about anime facts all and sundry.

The first time I saw him, he was standing in the rain.

I was just coming back from band practice, so I was a little tired. And pissed. We hadn’t been hitting the right notes lately, and I wasn’t sure who I was really angry at – myself or one of the others. But all those thoughts vanished when I saw him.

I thought he was a hobo at first. Dirty, unkempt, with strands of sodden black hair plastered to his face like seaweed. He was just standing there without an umbrella as the rain came down. I was about to just walk right past him and hope that he didn’t ask for me any money.

But then I noticed the power. It clung to him like smoke around a fire, strands of white-hot energy that were invisible to the naked eye – but not mine. If you’re normal, you can’t see them, or so I’ve been told.

I could see them – I can always see them. That’s part of the problem of being born the way I am. Your attunement to power…you can’t just turn it off. Sometimes I wish I could, but I can’t.

So…he was a god, then. We get plenty of them, out here in Elsewhere. They pass through the portals on a fairly regular basis. Some of them end up at Mom’s shop for a while. Some mosey on down to the city square to do their business, and some others try to get us to worship them, or throw lightning or summon demons or open portals to other realms…you know, typical god stuff.

We tend to throw those out and don’t want them coming back. Elsewhere may be a messy place at the best of times, but we run a tight ship when it comes to security. At least that’s what the sheriff always says. You’re welcome to stay as long as you obey the rules.

So what’s a god doing just standing in the rain? He was getting all soaked…couldn’t have been comfortable. He was probably slumming, I reasoned. Gods have complicated lives in general. Always getting involved in feuds or killing their brothers or meditating disputes among followers…I could see why one might want a break now and then.

But what did I know? It wasn’t any of my business. I just wanted to get home and figure out why that lick I had written wasn’t working the way it should.

My mom had raised me to be polite, though, and so when I passed by I bowed a little to him. “Can I help you?” I asked. Always made sense to be polite. You could never tell with gods – sometimes they were temperamental to the extreme. Or they’d try weird stuff that you had to watch out for. I had one try to bum a cigarette off me once, but I was underage. And now that I’m not, I don’t smoke.

But he just grunted and walked away.

Mom is always telling me to be nice to gods. “They’re some of our best customers!” She says. “They tip well, and if they make a scene…then I just show them the door.” And call the sheriff, I add mentally. Some of those gods can be tough customers. Mom’s tough…but not that tough.

Then again, maybe she is? She doesn’t talk about her past much, and I’ve always got the impression that she can swing a mean broadsword if she has to. I mean, that thing above our mantelpiece isn’t just for show.

But back to gods. I guess when you run a diner, you can’t really be too choosy? We basically accept everyone. Robots, gods, angels, demons…what have you. They all gotta eat, right?

They don’t eat the same stuff, though, which is half the problem we have. Keeping everything in stock is a handful and a half…I don’t know how Mom manages it, but she does. She makes sure we have sparkplugs for the mecha (and the correct kinds of batteries too) chakra filled cookies for the mana guzzling species, behemoth steaks for the demons…man, I remember writing the menu and I can’t even place half the items that we serve.

It all works out somehow. I try to pitch it when I can when school and band practice allow. I feel I should do my part for the family business, even when Mom usually runs the show.

It’s kind of cool having such a…varied clientele. Aside from the odd fight or two that Mom has to break up, it’s fun hearing stories from the customers. They don’t seem to mind me underfoot, or helping me with my homework. When I have problems with spellcasting, I can go ask the mages, and the traveling heroes always have stories to share.

People tell me that this is not the norm in other places – that is, having portals right in the middle of town that anyone can go in or out of. I was born here, so I don’t really know otherwise. But people keep telling me Elsewhere is a special place.

It’s fine, I guess. I’m usually too busy with school these days to notice. Ever since high school started, my grades have been slipping, and Mom’s threatened to cut my allowance if I don’t maintain a certain average. I try to be a good son, so I do my best.

She sometimes scolds me a lot, but I know it’s just because she works so hard. I kind of wish I had a father around to take off some of the pressure from her.

No one really talks about my Dad. He had to go off…somewhere, I guess. I don’t know. Mom doesn’t talk about him much, and when she does, she usually gets sad. I hate seeing her cry, so I never bring it up.

Me, I just want to play my guitar with my crew. I think we might even have a shot at Rampage of the Bands that’s coming up. They accept applications from all dimensions – can you believe that?

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuut we have a lot of work to do to get that far. I have to work on my fretwork. Bear has to stop messing up his rhythm. Adara has to well…actually come to practice. And Raven…he’s alright, I guess.

Who am I kidding…I’m crushing hard on him. I can’t help it. He has the most dreamy black eyes (like pools of midnight) and those wings, and that lean, lithe body…argh.

I can’t be like this. I have to be…what’s the word…impartial. Yeah. I’m the band leader and I have to treat everyone equally. Even the ones that I like.

I wonder if I’ll ever work up enough courage to ask him out before the competition. Then I wonder if we’ll even ever MAKE the competition. Then I tell myself to stop daydreaming and actually get back to writing songs and practicing for once.

The second time I saw him was after band practice. Today’s session wasn’t as bad as last week’s…we got some actual rehearsals done, at least. But Bear was still making mistakes with the drums, and I flubbed a note or two, and Adara…well Adara showed up on time.

Raven was perfect as usual. But he also says I’m too harsh on Bear – too harsh on everyone. But…I kinda have to be? I mean, I want to win the competition. We all do. We just sent in our applications today, and…bah. Maybe what we all need is more practice.

So I’m walking home when I see him again. He’s just lounging at the side of the road as usual. For no reason whatsoever I feel like getting a cold drink, so I get a couple of sodas and I toss one at him. He catches it without looking at it.

“Thanks.” He says and drains the whole thing at once. I sit down besides him and savor mine more slowly.

He doesn’t say a word, but I get that. The gods that we get in the diner come in all shapes and sizes. Some want to talk, some don’t. It’s all cool. Maybe it’s part of a magic ritual or their divine essence or something. Mom always told me not to ask too many questions.

“You might want to practice that lick of yours a little bit more. It’s good but it needs work.” He has a voice that’s deep and gravelly, kind of like thunder before a storm.

I look up dumbfoundedly at him. “Are you…reading my mind?” I ask.

“I would never do that.” He replies. “Not polite. But I can see you have a guitar. As for what you’re working on…well, I can sense these things.”

I don’t really know what to do, but he saves me the trouble of having to decide by producing a mean-looking axe out of nowhere and proceeding to shred. I didn’t see one anywhere…must be one of those perks of being a god.

His fingers fly over the fretboard like lightning (am I imagining things, or am I actually seeing it as well?) and not only does he produce some pretty awesome sounds, he also does a reasonable rendition of my lick. Except that it sounds a hundred – no, a thousand times better.

“Ho…what…how did you do that? Can you show me?”

“Yeah. You got a good base, I’ll give you that.” I take out my own guitar and he looks at it for a second, then points a finger at it. Just like that, it’s charged up without any juice. I look at him and he just shrugs.

“So, you gonna play or what?”

The guy – whoever he is - can play, I’ll give him that. We spend the better part of an hour just messing around, but I can tell he’s holding back. He listens to me play and points out some technical flaws, as well as where I could improve in terms of finger speed.

“You gotta hit it fast to make it sound good. Like this.” He plays it again. I can’t quite keep up with his speed, but he just smiles. “You’ll get there, you just need more practice.”

“Umm…sir? Why are you doing this?” I ask after we play a few more songs.

“Do I have to have a reason?” he asks. He glowers a bit at me for asking the question, and I wince a little. I get the impression he’s not usually asked about the reason for his actions. Most gods aren’t.

I still can’t quite figure him out, though…he’s really good with the guitar, so maybe he’s one of those artistic types? But he also charged my instrument with electricity, which is a power that the artsy-fartsy ones don’t tend to have…I’m debated asking him directly when I feel the first drops of rain patter down.

I speak the words of my umbrella spell and reach out to extend it to him, but when I look up, he’s gone again.

Our sound is ok, but it lacks a certain…something. Even with what the god showed me.

I’m spending a lot of time – probably too much – thinking about it. Even if we use my lick as the basis of the piece, and I have Adara’s vocals and Raven’s rhythm backing me up, I get the sense that it’s not enough. If we want to win the competition, we can’t just be good – we have to be awesome.

I try out variations of what he showed me, trying to make it sound like he did – but I can’t. I just can’t, even when I play faster and more accurately. Damn, why was he so good? Maybe it was just a god thing?

It would sound like I was a sore loser if I said that, so instead I just keep practicing and wondering about him, the mysterious bearded stranger who showed up in a storm one day and taught me guitar. Stranger things have happened.

I haven’t told Mom about it – or any other adult. It’s a secret I want to keep for myself for now. I just know if I tell her Mom is going to get all concerned and talk to me about not accepting help from strange gods.

“They’ll bind you in some kind of contract.” She’d say. “Or take a bit of your soul. Or cast some spell I don’t know how to break.”

Not gonna lie, I have heard of all those things happening. But the bearded guy…just seemed to want to play guitar. I guess they really do come in all types.

I have something else on my mind besides the lick and the god, though. I’m going to tell Raven how I feel. If I keep it inside me for one more day I’m going to explode, and well…it’s probably affecting my music more than it should. So as a responsible band leader, I can’t let that happen.

Why does he have to be so cute?

“Well, Avi…I…I never knew you felt this way about me.” He says slowly.

I did it the old-fashioned way – I asked him out for a milkshake and then after we were walking back home across the meadow, I told him. It’s a beautiful day. The clouds are all fluffy and white, the sky is a pale blue and the sunshine is as brilliant as it comes.

I wait for his reply, which seems to be taking ages, and I try not to think about anything…but all it can do is trace the curve of his jaw and the arch of his wings and all the other things I like about him. It’s that moment that I realize that everyone who has ever written a love song is right – the feelings may hurt in some ways but you never want to get rid of them.

“Avi, I…you don’t deserve this, but…”

There’s the but. I’ve heard it before – delivered it before. I try not to tear up and actually succeed.

“Is there someone else?” I ask.

“No.” he says softly, and I know he’s telling the truth. “I just…don’t see you in that way. I’m sorry. You deserve someone, though. Someone better than me.”

We both don’t say anything for a while until I draw in a deep breath. “Well…okay. Thanks for being honest.” It sounds kind of lame, but I don’t know what else I would say.

The wind blows and I keep thinking what a perfect day it is. Seems like a waste to end in on a sour note, so I pull out my guitar. Raven takes out his bass without saying a word, and we both serenade the empty sky.

Not the worst way to end the afternoon.

I don’t see the god for a while. Sometimes when I come home from band practice I expect him to be there, sitting on the side on the road – but no, nothing.

I really shouldn’t get too attached. After all, I’ve only met him twice. But it was just something about the way he played the guitar that stuck in my mind and wouldn’t leave. I’d like to have another lesson from him, but I have no idea how to contact him – or if he even wants to be.

After my confession, Raven’s gotten a little distant from me – which can’t really be helped. If the rest of the band notices, they don’t say anything. We’re on track to get in enough practice before the competition begins, but somehow I’m still a little uneasy about it all.

I’m walking back from school one day when it suddenly gets dark out. Storm clouds start rolling in, dark and grey, and I’m wondering if I should actually take the bus for once, instead of just walking home with my umbrella spell.

But…I kind of like the rain. I like it seeing it splash against the invisible barrier that the spell makes, and knowing I’m all safe and comfy inside. It makes me feel…I dunno...alive, I guess.

So I just continue walking back as normal as the storm brews. About halfway to my house, I start to seriously reconsider my decision as the wind picks up and starts blowing something fierce. Trash cans get knocked away, and lightning streaks across the sky. We haven’t had a storm this bad in…well, ever.

And then I see him.

He’s standing in the middle of a field, and he’s not alone. There are demons around him – and not just a few either. I don’t know where they came from – must have opened some portals somewhere - but there are at least a dozen that are converging on him with murder in their eyes.

I should run, I know. That’s what everyone tells me to do when things get weird in Elsewhere – don’t go straight, go around or go back. I should call the sheriff or something, or get away. It’s dangerous to get mixed up with gods and demons of any kind.

But for some reason I can’t make my feet move. All I can do is watch as he pulls out the same guitar from nowhere and starts playing.

Lightning comes down as he hits the right notes, burning more than one demon to a crisp. I’ve never seen anything like it – obviously his music is channeling the storm somehow. He continues wailing away like a banshee and more bolts shoot from his fingers to blast the demons away. It’s like what he did when he charged my guitar – just a lot more powerful.

I stare at the spectacle open-mouthed for a while. The storm is in full force now, the wind whipping through the trees and streets, but the god just keeps playing like there’s no tomorrow, lightning blasting away at the demons around him. He looks like a force of nature, and his music…it’s out of this world.

But even so I can see that he’s in trouble. One demon gets too close and rakes him with a claw, drawing blood – he blasts it away without missing a beat, but I can see that his playing is affected. And then I can see that the lightning bolts don’t come as fast and they aren’t quite as accurate and…he might be in danger if this keeps up!

I know what I’m doing is crazy, but it’s like my feet won’t listen to me. I run towards him, unslinging my own instrument. I reach out like I learnt in school and wrap the power around me, funneling it through my fingers and into the fretboard – and I gasp from the raw, blazing intensity of it all. This isn’t kid’s stuff – it’s the real deal.

For a moment I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, but then when I start playing, it all goes away. I feel myself – Avi – fade away, replaced by something bigger and greater, something that’s connected to the storm and the lightning and the god himself. Power builds within me and I send it all towards him.

His eyes lock onto mine, and he smiles – not the smile he gave me before – but one that’s full of fury and wildness. He receives the gift of my power – my music – and twines it with his own, and we both rock out as the storm rages and the demons shriek and rush at us both.

But he’s got his second wind now, and a furious melody from him blows them away before they can get too close. I play more – better than I’ve ever played in my life, my fingers moving of their own accord – and its like my lick takes on a life of its own. The god improvises around it, and our combined efforts result in another storm of lightning reducing the rest of the demons to cinders.

I drop to my feet, exhausted. I don’t really know what has happened, only that I’ve just played guitar with a god and destroyed demons into the bargain. I struggle to get up and feel a calloused hand take mine.

“Thanks, kid. I owe you one.” He says in his deep tones. “You’ve got real talent. Keep at it. When you can call down the lightning with just that lick alone…I’ll be waiting.”

And then he walks away and all of a sudden vanished in a burst of lightning. I’m left holding my guitar and breathing hard as the storm slowly breaks around me.

So he was one of those kickass gods after all.

Life went back to normal after that. At least as normal as anything gets around here. There was a ritual summoning just the other night, and a mage convention after that…it’s never boring when you live in this town.

Raven and I are still friends, and still in the band together. Sometimes I give him looks, and he pretends not to see them. Maybe he’ll change his mind, maybe he won’t.

I pretend not to see when he’s giving me looks either. Maybe I’ll change my mind, maybe I won’t.

The competition’s next week, but I find myself not really caring if that much anymore. All that matters to me now is playing my music right. I can still hear the last words that the god spoke to me, and they spur me on to greatest heights.

He was a real honest to goodness metal god. Not just one of those you see on the covers. He really played music, melted demon faces and generally shredded like crazy. Pretty cool however you look at it.

So I keep on practicing and playing. And sometimes if I hit it just right, I can hear the boom of thunder and see the flash of lightning. Just a little.

I am always on the lookout for media in general and games/anime that deal with psychology in general and mental health issues in particular. There's much to write about, but for today I'll be focusing on the Persona series.

A short summary for those who may not know what it is – in short, the Persona series is a spinoff from the mainline Shin Megami Tensei franchise of JRPGs that grew to be much more popular than its originating series. It generally deals with themes of growing up, explorations of the human psyche (exactly my jam!) and identity and meaning.

What I like about it is that it takes the well-worn "highschoolers with supernatural powers" trope and introduces it, no-holds barred, to real life situations – having access to a shadow dimension or being able to summon figures from myth and legend doesn't mean that you might not have to deal with parental estrangement, social isolation, depression and/or trauma…all things that the series' characters do at one point face.

While only the later entries really deal with mental illness, the series has a tradition of psychological exploration, as befits a franchise which in Latin means "mask" and takes many of its key themes and ideas from Jungian psychology. As my therapist used to say "we contain multitudes" – the human psyche is complex and often fragmented, and Persona is notable in its exploration of its facets in many shapes and forms.

(For a deeper dive - The Persona Series Draws on Fascinating Real-Life Psychology)

As I will be discussing events from all the games here, unmarked spoilers will follow.

The First Steps: Persona 1

The series was still finding its identity and footing with Persona 1, and so the first installment in the series didn't go too far in terms of in-depth exploration. There were some interesting moments, like meeting yourself in the last dungeon of the game, and of course the overarching plot having been created by one girl's desire to live a normal life instead of being confined to a hospital bed.

Still, I can't very well say that Persona 1 really did more than a cursory examination of wish-fulfillment, the maturation of identity and the search for meaning, though there is a memorable line for that one part – the final boss can ask you point blank "What do you live?" and you can reply "To find the answer" – which is pretty deep for a PlayStation era game.

(Or you could be a total putz and reply with "I don't know.")

Finding Its Voice: Persona 2

I feel Persona 2 is really where the series starts to come into its own. It begins to touch on themes that a typical coming of age narrative might have, like Ginko's cultural estrangement (she's a foreigner in Japan and copes by adopting a third culture) and Eikichi's issues about his appearance and relationship with his father. It's also dark – probably the darkest of the mainline games, but for all the severity of its tone, never falls into despair.

It also doesn't deal with mental illness specifically, but P2's focus is more about other themes such as interpersonal relationships, regrets and the blurring between fantasy and reality. The series' trademark strong characterization is out in full force, though, and so there are some pretty deep dives into the individual psyches of the characters', examining their hopes, dreams and motivations.

Moments that stand out for me include Tatsuya's confession scene (in which he can out himself as bisexual if you so choose) and Eikichi's conception of his father as a huge boss monster – showing how our mind does indeed create the world in many ways. If we imagine someone as something, does it become that? That's something that the series goes on to explore in other ways throughout its many installments.

A Brief Note on P3

Now for P3…except that I didn't play it :)

Full disclosure here once again – I have not actually completed P3. For some reason I really couldn't get into the game, and so I won't be writing about it here because I don't feel I should cover games I don't know that well (and if I do, I do admit to not playing them!) I've learned a fair bit from the Megaten wiki, but I will be skipping the game in general.

The Shadow Self: Persona 4

This is where Persona goes full on into the Jungian archetypes of the shadow and ego repression. Each of the characters encounters issues while growing up that they seek resolution with, all very real – Yukiko feels caged by her place in her family's house, while Naoto and Kanji struggle with gender expression and identity.

All these repressed emotions and unwanted parts of the self become the shadow – in P4's case, it's something both literal and figurative. Kanji is in denial because his self-image and ego can't handle the fact that he both likes traditionally "feminine" pursuits such as needlework, but at the same time he's a Badass Biker Dude. The other characters encounter similar "splits" in their psyche which must be met and healed.

One of the core themes of P4 is that when you completely and totally accept your shadow self, it then becomes a source of your power. Even visually, it's shown that the monstrous Shadows of the characters transform into the strong and powerful archetype of myth and legend once the characters accept their repressed selves and integrate them into the entirety of their psyche. In fact, the game goes one step further – to unlock the final transformation of their Personas, another aspect of their psyche must be embraced and also integrated.

I find that this is one of the depictions of the psyche that the Persona series hits a home run with. Even in real life, people struggle with facets and aspects of their personality that they find are "bad" – shutting them away and avoiding facing them. Whether their real life shadows are cast by society, our parents or our disenfranchised selves, all of them must led into the light and accepted to effect real healing. Often in therapy I've experienced epiphanies that mirror the ones that the characters' go through – when you are ready to accept the shadow as part of you, what is real comes through to be embraced, and what is false falls away.

Once again I feel this is where video games have great healing potential in being able to depict this is a narrative form, letting the audience relive their own difficulties and struggles differently. Art is powerful, and nowhere it is moreso than when something can show you how our dark sides (and we all have one) can indeed become a bridge to the light – if we would but let them.

While none of the P4 cast have full-blown mental disorders, the importance of actual shadow work in therapy and real life cannot be understated. True strength lies within fully accepting and understanding ourselves, warts and all – even the parts that we would like to disown or pretend that are not true.

If our psyche is split in this way, it can end up poorly for us, with repressed urges coming up in all sorts of ways, ranging from maladaptive coping mechanisms to acting out. It's beyond the scope of this piece to address them all, but let me just say that this is where P4 really does hit the nail on the head regarding recovery and growth – the shadow must be addressed.

And if even in real life the results may not be as flashy as in a video game, there are nevertheless very true and tangible.

Confronting Shadows - Finding Strength in Persona 4

Mental Health Takes Center Stage: Persona 5

Persona 5 is the game that really put the series on the map in terms of popularity, and it's easy to see why – it's a carefully crafted piece that many (including myself) have called a masterpiece. And it does indeed deal with mental health issues in a way that few other games do.

P5 deals with many of the themes that the series has become known for, but this time the Personas are unleashed by quite literally ripping off the figurative "mask" from the characters' faces. But for this piece I'd like to spotlight two characters who most definitely suffer from, face down and overcome mental health challenges.

Futaba's Journey

Futaba's story is as grim as they come – she is a lonely child who is dealing with agoraphobia, isolation and social anxiety, being unable to leave her room and coping by using the Internet. Essentially, she's a preteen hikkokomori.

But the story shows how the main characters attempting to solve the mystery of her mother's murder ends up with her having to confront her worst demons – and triumph over them. Persona doesn't pull punches – her scenario deals with you entering her internal world, where she has created a narrative of herself that seems to enable her to deal with her struggles…emphasis on seems. By uncovering the truth of what happened, Futaba has to learn to face herself and the world once more.

This situation parallels many real life ones that I've seen. When reality is too cruel, it's very tempting to resort to escapism (including video games!) and to alternate narratives and frames of reference that can disguise or obscure the truth…which is ultimately what will set us free, if we but let it. It was empowering to see Futaba and her friends uncover a mystery that ultimately resolved itself with her coming out into the world once more, albeit slowly and with some hesitation (which was in itself quite a realistic depiction of healing from social anxiety – it's rarely an overnight affair)

What I appreciated about Futaba's arc is that her recovery comes about by challenging the stories that she and other people have told themselves about her and her role in her mother's death. How true are they, really? Who is she when is not defined by the singular tragedy of her life? Those are questions I myself asked myself in my road to healing, and though they might not be easy, they needed to be asked and answered.

Futaba's eventual recovery does echo one of the series' themes about dealing with oneself and life in general – that of acceptance as being key to moving on. Her mother is dead – no one can change that. But by accepting that head on, as well as the fact that there are friends and family who are there and care for her, she is able to take the first steps into the wide world – a world that is so much more than just the walls and corners of her small little room.

The Wounded Healer and the Student

Besides Futaba, the story arcs of Kasumi and Maruki bear mention. The latter has all the symptoms of grief and PTSD (and is in fact treated for such in game) and the latter is an actual school counselor (with issues of his own)

In the case of Kasumi, it was refreshing seeing mental health issues being treated front and center with the candor that they deserve – self-esteem and the search for identity are things that most adolescents grapple with without having to add grief and bereavement into the mix. As part of her personal development and growth, these issues are confronted, faced and eventually overcome.

I'd like to take a moment to talk about how seeing healing being gamified is an interesting phenomena in and of itself. Readers of my other work will often know how I find the presence of agency and choice in games a unique hallmark of the medium – you get to decide! How cool is that!

Seeing healing and recovery translate into actual game elements (in Kasumi's case, her social links levelling up) also impacts your gameplay experience, making your party stronger – much as healing has that effect in the real world. There's a lot to be said for the "Hey, maybe I can do that too!" element for video games and healing. It bears mentioning that just like in Persona as in real life, social links are important for "levelling up" in more ways than one!

With Maruki, I think what the game highlighted was the saying "doctor, heal thyself" As the narrative progresses, it becomes clear that the doctor himself is the walking wounded – and although the Jungian archetype of the "wounded healer" is powerful and very much alive today, that necessitates that the therapist in question do their own shadow work first. My own therapists have their own therapists (for at least part of their careers) and I would consider it a pre-requisite for any self-respecting psychologist to be aware of this aspect of the craft.

The Impact

I know I was not the only one that was so touched by this gem of a game, as these articles will confirm:

• Mental Health in Video Games: Persona 5

• How Persona 5 Saved One Player’s Life: A Tale of Escapism and Inspiration

• Trauma Narratives in Persona 5 Royal

I'm heartened to find that in my travels throughout the Net that there is more attention being paid to this field. Part of the reason I started writing was to shed more light on the intersection of gaming and mental health, and I believe the artform has many insights and ways that we can use to nurture and develop ourselves, in addition to more conventional psychotherapeutic methods.

A Note on the Spinoffs

Some say that the franchise was milked pretty hard after 5 due to its overwhelming popularity, and I must sadly agree – I mean, Joker is cool and all, but how many times do we want to see him and his crew? But I digress, and I don't want to get too off topic here.

So I'd like to point out that whatever your opinion on its many spinoffs, I find two that are worth mentioning.

Persona Q2 also focuses on many of the same issues. However, because I have not actually played the game, I've only been able to glean certain facts about it from the wiki and Google searches. As far as I can see though, it also deals with self-identity and trauma, as well as the related factors that impact it – such as accepting reality (as harsh as it can be) as being a key factor in recovering and moving on.

P5's direct sequel, Strikers, also deals with how social media can sometimes cause disconnection and isolation in today's digital age. Akane prefers the safety and anonymity of her channel devoted to the Phantom Thieves where she can escape instead of having to confront the reality of her strained relationship with her father.

Another major plot element is how AI applications such as EMMA can make people overly dependent on them, another interesting parallel to real world issues. Research shows that that the use of social media to promote and foster long-term caring connections leads to healthier outcomes than using it to constantly post status updates or show off. Art imitates life once again!

Looking Forward

I hope you've enjoyed another alternative perspective into a much-beloved JRPG series. Wherever the franchise goes from here, I have no doubt it will not shirk from the exploration of the human spirit and soul that it has become noted for. I for one hope for more productive and healing collaborations between the worlds of gaming and therapy.

Toxic codependency is a very real problem in today's world that in my opinion is not discussed widely enough. Let's start off with a definition so we're all on the same page, though.

"Toxic codependency is a detrimental relationship dynamic where one partner consistently prioritizes their own needs over the needs of the other. In this type of relationship, individuals may develop a strong belief that they are unable to function independently without their partner's presence and support. Consequently, they become excessively attached and reliant on each other, creating an unhealthy interdependence."

Source

Essentially, all relationships are to some degree about give and take. If we're friends, we take pleasure in each other's company – sometimes I help you, and you me. Parents assist their children as they grow up, and the children respond with love and affection. Emotions and feelings flow both ways.

In a codependent relationship, the basis of the relationship is "I need you to be ok so I'm ok" and "you can't be ok without me." We go from being a two to forcing ourselves into a one – which is unhealthy in the extreme, because a relationship is between two people. Interactions become based on this premise, and fear of abandonment and lack of boundaries loom large – minor actions that anyone may take become blown up into larger than life affairs.

Truly diving into the scope of codependency is perhaps beyond the scope of one article, but here I hope to at least illustrate the basics. You wouldn't expect to see much of this appear in anime, and indeed It's not a common occurrence = incidences and portrayals of toxic codependency in media tend to be uncommon. However, in an artform as vast as anime, we are bound to find good examples, which I hope to highlight for you today.

What Does Anime Bring to the Table?

A brief Google search doesn't bring up much, only two articles, one of which is below. (CBR Article on Unhealthy Codependent Anime Relationships)

I also don't 100% agree with the exact dynamics of each relationship discussed there, but I can definitely say that Light Yagami and Misa Amane are EXTREMELY toxically codependent – there's really not much room for discussion with that one!

However, how about relationships which don't seem like that on the surface? It can be difficult to detect a codependent relationship at first, as sometimes clinginess and neediness can masquerade as intimacy and closeness. Relationships can sometimes also be very complex, with multiple factors affecting how people relate to each other.

Fruits Basket: A Case Study in Codependency

So let's start with Fruits Basket as probably the best known of the three I will mention.

Akito Sohma is codependent in almost all the close relationships in her life with a capital C. She wants to control them all and desires their affections and love, but is equally afraid to lose them, creating a very unhealthy push and pull dynamic. Her controlling behavior and sometimes pleasant demeanor mask a deeply insecure and terrified young woman, who is afraid of losing her loved ones and herself.

Therefore, at every hint that those close to her will leave or disobey her whims, she will berate and scold them – which of course has the reverse effect of pushing them away instead of keeping them closer. Like many codependents, she can flip-flop from being kind and loving to narcissistic and harsh in seconds, depending on her moods and how she perceives she is being treated.

In the anime, some of the dynamics between her and the rest of her family have a supernatural element – Akito's demands cannot be disobeyed because she is the "God" of the Sohma family. However, when you strip this away and focus simply on the human element, you can see relationships structures that arise in most codependent situations, regardless of culture, race or language.

Her family is supposed to obey and respect her (and in fact, some cannot do otherwise) but at the same time, they are hurt but her obviously erratic and irrational behavior. Like many in these situations, Akito is both an abuser because she was once abused herself, and her raging codependency stems from the fact that healthy relationships were never modelled for her – much like in similar real life situations.

(A decent writeup: The Cycle of Abuse and Akito)

To a lesser extent, Tohru's and Kyo's relationship has codependent moments until both characters eventually mature and heal from their past traumas. Tohru genuinely does wish to connect with and assist others, but also has difficulty moving past the sudden death of her mother. Kyo also exhibits the very common sentiment of "I need you to be here so I'm ok" of codependency as he gets close to Tohru, further complicated by his own relationship with the Sohma family (Akito included) and his curse.

Their story is one of letting their guards down and being honest with each other so that trust has time to flourish. At certain points, both veer into but never really develop into full-blown codependency, somewhat due to the support that their friends and family give them.

The dramatic contrast between Akito and Tohru is pretty clear – one who was able to move past tragedy and relate to people authentically and one who is not. (Which clearly stems from good parenting for one and not the other) Eventually, Tohru does get through to her erstwhile rival, who is able to slowly see that her all her behavior does is push others away.

Full Moon wo Sagashite: Mixed Signals and Unclear Messages

Full Moon wo Sagashite is another series which highlights this unhealthy relationship dynamic. Meroko and Izumi are codependent with each other in various ways. The former is unable to confess her feelings for the latter and vacillates between defending him and being hurt by his actions. The latter alternately blows hot and cold towards Meroko, occasionally seeming to reciprocate her feelings somewhat, but never conclusively.

Neither is able to fully own or express their own emotions or how they feel, instead relying on mixed signals and unclear messages. It is a dynamic which starts affecting their work lives as well.

The two of them go through quite a few ups and downs with each other and other significant people in their lives, but fortunately for them, their trials and tribulations do manage to get them to mature and understand more about communicating effectively. In the end, they manage to get out of their unhealthy dynamic and move on to a healthier place.

Gundam 00: When Care Becomes Control

A last little known mention would be Sumeragi Lee Noriega and Billy Katagiri from Gundam 00. (second season spoilers) When Sumeragi's world coming crashing down on her with the defeat of Celestial Being at the end of the first season, her lover takes her in…and enables her to live the life of a drunkard.

What seems like a kind act is in fact doing neither of them any favors. Sumeragi doesn't truly love Billy – she's just in a very bad place and needs someone to help her out. Billy for his part, even though he does indeed care for his lover, doesn't really understand what is going on and is partially indulging his own selfish desires in "caring" for her.

It's pretty textbook codependency, with the outwardly more capable partner enabling the other so both can "get what they want" – which in this case is running away from the reality of the world around them.

In another example of anime showing real life approaches to real life issues, Setsuna stages a one person intervention into Sumeragi's life in his usual brusque manner – simply barging into the house and restating her real name and purpose again and again until she "gets it". While most interventions are not so crude or forceful, it's hard to argue with his results – Setsuna wants the old Sumeragi back, and his pointed approach does indeed shock her out of the state she's in, although it does take some time for her to sober up.

Theirs has a happy ending of sorts, though. Though Billy does go harbor a lot of bitterness and spite for Sumeragi's lying to him (though one could argue that it was not entirely intentional) the two of them actually have it out much later in the climax of the series (while fighting to save the world, no less) Sumeragi is able to clearly state that while Billy is important to her, he's a friend and she has never seen him in that way. He is able to accept that and move on, retaining fond memories of her (as shown by a picture on his desk) and encounters another potential romantic love interest later.

While confrontations of those sort in real life may not have the magic of GN particles to transmit our feelings to each other, I would say that that scene is actually a fairly realistic portrayal of resolving past codependency. Sumeragi makes her stance clear without being hurtful, and Billy is able to (after an initial lashing out) to accept that.

Moving Forward: Building Healthy Relationships

In conclusion, humans are a social species, and we will always seek to form relationships with others, whether romantic or otherwise. While there is a huge amount of resources on the mechanics of such (I direct interested readers to learn about love languages and mirror neurons) since today's article is mainly about codependency, I'll only list two below.

In terms of real life assistance for codependency, I always refer people to Brene Brown's work on boundaries as well as Pia Melody's for codependency. Creating and maintaining healthy boundaries is part and parcel of any relationship, and we want to be close without leaning on the other too much, and be strong as well as allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. While it can at times be quite the balancing act, trust, kindness and authenticity are generally the bedrock of letting sustainable and healthy bonds flourish – instead of choke.

Nothing ever happens out here, and that’s the truth.

Well, not really nothing. Ms. Andrews at school is always after us to be accurate in our speech, and so I can’t say that “nothing” happens. There was the game last week, that was pretty cool. And we went on a trip to the next town, where there was a fair. That was nice.

But nothing really interesting happens. I wake up, I eat breakfast, I go to school. Rinse and repeat. There’s a new bike I’ve been fixing to buy, but besides that…boring.

I don’t want to turn out like Dad. He’s out the door at six everyone morning and doesn’t come back till about eight on some days. I know he works hard, and I’m grateful. It’s just that…I want more out of life.

Everyone tells me I’ll change my mind when I’m older, but I don’t think so.

Especially Dad. What’s that he’s always telling me? “Hard work makes the world go round, son.” He’ll say after downing a beer. “The factory’s kept this town going a long time. You should be grateful, you know. Work hard, and you’ll never want for money.”

I guess he’s right…sort of. We’re not poor, but we’re not rich either. And the factory has been good for the town. Has to be, right? I mean, everyone works there. Probably even me someday.

It’s a worthwhile trade, I guess. It just seems boring – just like almost everything else around here.

There’s got to be something fun to do once in a while. I guess I’ll go see what Jake has in mind.

Turns out Jake was visiting his uncle, so it was just me all alone. Figures.

There aren’t many teenagers my age besides Jake – at least, not that live close by, anyway. So I’m on my own a lot anyway. I should buy the bike. Would give me something to do. I’ve saved up enough, anyway.

Mom hustled me out the door because she doesn’t like me in the house when she has company over. Not that there’s that much to do at home anyway besides watch TV…and there’s nothing good on.

So I just sit on the hill and watch the clouds go by. The orbital lasers are doing their work – once in a while I’ll see one hit a target and it’ll come streaking on by. It’s quite pretty, in it’s own way. When I was a kid we used to guess which were shooting stars and which were laser targets.

But I’m not a kid anymore, and soon they’ll expect me to start working at the factory. Sigh.

“…another victory for the Mobile Defense Unit, Zeruon!”

“Dear, will you turn it down? I’m trying to listen to the radio in here?”

Remind me not to stay home when both my parents are around. Mom wants the radio on when she’s cooking – says it helps her concentrate. Dad wants the TV on when he’s resting – says it helps him relax.

Dad glowered at the kitchen but reached out with his remote. So…Mom won. She always does in the end.

“It was a tough battle for our boys today, but they beat back the invaders without a single casualty! Let’s show our appreciation for them by writing in!”

“Don’t you ever get bored of the news?” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

“What do you mean, son?” Dad looked at me strangely. “I never do. I’m proud to watch it every day, proud. It’s good to see my work making a difference.”

You just make the parts. They probably don’t know you exist. I’ve wanted to say that more than once, but I never do. There are some things you just don’t say out loud.

“I guess…” I mumble to myself. Another boring day. At least my bike’s going to arrive tomorrow.

“You know what? I think I haven’t been spending enough time with you lately. Let’s say I help you get your bike all sorted out tomorrow. Whaddya say?”

I smile a little at that. I give my Dad some grief but I know he works hard to give us all a house and home. Things have been tough ever since Grandma got sick, and…I try not to give him a hard time.

“Thanks, Dad. I think I’d like that.”

I whoop as I go down one hill and then just as quickly up another one. This is fun!

The bike turned out to be a lot easier to put together than I thought…which was just as well as Dad was called away to work again. Why am I not surprised? I shouldn’t have gotten my hopes up.

Jake also came back…but he went straight to work at the factory. Turns out his dad didn’t want him “lollygagging around all day” His words, not mine.

So that just left me and my bike. Which suited me just fine. How does someone be lonely with a great piece of gear like this?

I went up another hill and down another one. And again. And again. The thrill never quite wore off, but I was getting used to the bike’s speeds.

So I got cocky. I admit it. I really shouldn’t have done what I did…but hey hindsight is 20/20 and all that, right? I tried to get fancy with the way I landed – I was fixing to do a spin like you see they do on TV.

Instead I just ended up losing control and crashing the whole damn thing into a hill. I managed to get out of the mess with just a skinned knee…but the bike wasn’t so lucky. It was banged up pretty bad.

I cursed as I pedaled the thing home. I had just bought it too. Where was I going to get the money to fix it?

“Really? Alright. I’ll tell him the good news.” Dad put the phone down with a smile on his face.

“You can start tomorrow. I’ve put in a good word with the foreman for you.”

I knew I should have said something, but instead all I did was nod, while I watched the TV. It was the news again – it was always the news at this hour, for basically every set in town.

“It was a tough battle today…Zeruon lost an arm and sustained heavy damage. Another Mobile Defense Unit will be covering for it while it gets repaired. But don’t lose hope! It will take more than that to stop the Earth Defense Forces!”

Did the announcer need to sound so enthusiastic all the time? Maybe it was in his contract…

“Aren’t you going to thank your father?” Mom appeared in the doorway with her hands on her hips. “Honestly, this boy of ours…”

“Come now, Mary, it’s ok. He’s probably just overwhelmed by it all. He’s starting a little early…wasn’t planning on this till next year!” Dad beamed at me as I got up.

“Yeah well, ummm…thanks Dad.” I managed to get out. I couldn’t bear to tell him that working at the factory was the only way I could think of to get the money to repair my bike in a short period of time.

Besides…I would end up working there anyway. Everyone did. Jake, Dad…everyone.

So…it’s not really that bad here. Although it’s about as boring as I thought it would be.

I’m new, so all I get to do is work on the casings. We inspect them all as they go in. If we spot a dud, we just call out. It’s simple enough, but it takes a lot of concentration.

Jake is pretty happy that I’m here. He went around telling everyone that he was my friend (“can you believe it? Starting at his age?) until I told him to be quiet.

I’m just here until I get enough money to repair my bike. Until I’m here for good, that is.

The food at the cafeteria is surprisingly good. Not as good as Mom’s, but then nothing is. After that it’s back to work, which is boring…but not mind-numbingly so.

There was a spirited conversation going on at lunch that I didn’t quite understand, something about the union? I ask Jake about it during our free time.

“Oh, the foreman is just pushing for more rights for the workers here. We work hard, so we want more days off and better health coverage. He’s seeing what he can do.”

Hmm. Never really thought about that before. Although I do remember the one time Dad got sick and we didn’t need to pay anything at all. Funny that I didn’t remember it until now.

“So, how are you liking your first day?”

I mumble something noncommittally. I like Jake and all, but I’d really rather talk about my bike than my time here. Break time is over soon, though, and it’s back to work. For everyone.

The evening rolls around, and most of us pack and up get ready to leave, but not before everyone gathers in front of the largest screen I’ve ever seen. They’re watching the news, of course.

“Do you all do this every day?” I ask. Stupid question. Of course they did.

“Yeah, but it’s also quality control, you know? We have to make sure that what we produce is up to snuff.” Jake speaks with the air of a veteran, even though he’s only been working a little longer than I have.

“This is just the stuff that makes it on the news. After this, the supervisor will get the actual combat footage and make sure the teams get to see it. They’ll review it, then let us know if anything needs to be changed. Once every week, there’s a meeting with quality control and the union as well, just to make sure everything’s running smoothly.”

I had no idea there was so much work involved. I guess you…learn something new every day and all that.

Dad’s resting at home today for a change, while I’m going to work. He makes the expected joke about how I’m taking over way earlier than he is, and I just smile. I’m still going to stop after I fix my bike. I think I’m about halfway there.

Mom’s stew puts me in a good mood so much so that I don’t even notice the news until Dad points at it.

“…and that’s how Zeruon has managed to topple another threat to the capital! We’re now going LIVE to hear from Zeruon’s pilot himself, Keith Edwards!”

“Well, Byron, I can’t take all the credit, really I can’t. I have my backup crew to thank, and everyone who works hard behind the scenes. I mean, I don’t even maintain the robot myself! And then they’re the fine people who make the parts for Zeruon…I don’t think they get enough credit, actually.”

“Strong, noble AND humble? We don’t deserve you!”

The pilot laughs it off as Dad beams at the screen. “You see! We’re finally getting the respect we deserve. At least this pilot’s a good one…most times we don’t get any recognition at all.”

“Eat your stew before it gets cold, dear.” Mom says with an indulgent smile. She knows that if she lets him get on his soapbox, he won’t get down for a long time, and so she wisely heads him off.

I give her a grateful smile. I just want to enjoy my food in peace.

But…I’m sort of with Dad on this one. Just a little bit. Our whole town works hard, so it’s nice to get mentioned once in a while. Even without any names or anything. Just so the world knows we’re doing our bit for world peace.

So after about a month I move up one rung, onto production. We get to actually work on the parts now…whoopdy-doo.

It’s actually…more involved than it looks. There’s a lot than going into each part, and I’m just on the minor assembly crew. The joints have to be adjusted to be just right, the sockets maintained, the circuit housing…it’s a million and one fine details.

I messed up a bit when I first started, but the foreman was gentle with me and get someone (not Jake) to supervise me. I don’t make quite as many mistakes now, though I have to be careful.

And I get to grouse with the rest of the crew, which seems to be a pastime of theirs. Today we’re working on legs – just like we’ve been doing for the last two days.

“Another order of legs? What did he do with the last one?”

“Lost them to the invaders, which you’d know if you ever bothered to watch the news.” Says Jake with a smile.

“Well I don’t. I have better things to do with my time.”

“Like get into crashes with your beloved dirt bike?”

I frowned at that. What a man does in his spare time in his business, and there shouldn’t be anyone poking fun at him for it. But when you live in a town as small as this one…well, let’s just say that everyone gets into everyone’s else’s affairs some of the time – well, heck, all of the time.

So I crashed my bike once – ONCE – and someone saw it. And of course he had to go tell someone, who then told – it didn’t really matter. Basically everyone knew, and they didn’t let me forget it.

But apart from some good-natured ribs, they didn’t really make too much fun of me after the first day or so. Which was good – I was afraid it was going to be like high school all over again.

I got a little prickly about it at first, which I guess is why Jake had to come over on the second day and explain it all to me.

“Dude, that’s how they welcome you here. You’re one of us now. You did something silly and we tease you about it, just like how Steve messed up his fishing trip last month, and Dave bought the wrong plugs and couldn’t return it, and…”

“…how you asked out Alice and she said no? Four times?”

Jake got a little red at that one, but to his credit he just grinned weakly and agreed. “Yeah. Just like that. It’s like the complaining we do. No one really means it. Just harmless fun and stress relief.”

“Okay…I think I get it now.” And I did. “And ummm, thanks for letting me know.”

“You’re a smart guy – way smarter than me – but it seemed like you didn’t quite understand, so I was glad I could sort you out. See you at lunch!” he said with a wave, and then he was gone, leaving me to stare at an unmarked casing.

Okay, so they had some kind of weird hazing ritual…I could live with that. And it wasn’t as bad as some of the ones I’d heard or seen. And from what I’d seen, the crew DID stick together.

A guy could get used to working here…at least until his bike was paid for, at least.

“Go see your grandma, willya? And bring some soup with you while you’re at it.”

“Do I have to?” I asked as I watched the TV. The news was almost on, and I wanted to see how Zeruon had fared recently.

“Yes you do. As long as you’re in my house, you will do as I say, young man.”

There was no arguing with Mom when she used that tone of voice. Grumbling, I got up, got my coat and bundled food into my backpack. At least it would be an excuse to ride my bike – which had finally been fixed.

Truth be told, I didn’t really mind visiting Grandma. She stayed in bed most of the time now, so all I would do is read to her, and sing some songs – I can’t sing for nuts, but she never seemed to mind. The nurses do most of the work, and there’s always an attendant around, so we don’t have to worry.

I frown as I remember how much Dad used to worry until the factory sent someone to the union to work it all out. Then I shake my head to get rid of the bad memories and I try to enjoy the wind in my face as I pedal all the way there.

It’s a pretty long way – good exercise for me. I relish the feeling of my legs pumping and the wheels of my bike turning as I make my way down the highway. I’ve forgotten how beautiful everything is this time of year.

I get to the house a bit early, and Grandma is happy to see me, as she always is. I don’t think she can understand much of what I’m saying anymore, but I try my best to speak slowly. She used to be a lot more fun, before she started getting too old. We used to have fun fishing crawdads in the river when I was a kid…when Grandma was still alive.

Then the invaders came and messed it all up.

I try not to think about that too much when I’m at the house. That’s the one part I don’t like about visiting her – all the memories. Instead I just share soup and stories and read her books until it’s time for watch the news. Everyone watches the news – even Grandma.

Zeruon’s doing pretty well out there, and I feel a little – just a little – tickle of pride as I see how the new casings are holding up. I’ll bet he couldn’t throw Megaton Punches without our crew making sure the arm conductors were working just right. No sirree.

As I pedal home after I kiss Grandma goodnight I know Zeruon does a good job of protecting us…most times.

I just wish it was every time.

“What do they want now?”

“Three arms, one leg replacement…it’s going to mean a long day for us.” Jake moans.

“What are we waiting for, then? Let’s get the show on the road!” It might be a long day, but there’s no way I’m letting Zeruon go into action without enough spare parts. At least not while I have anything to do with it – and I do.

I’m head of the assembly team now. I didn’t expect it, but I caught a malfunction one day and finished ahead of schedule the next week and before I know it…the foreman is shaking my hand and I’ve got a whole new set of overalls to wear. With a new cap.

I don’t know how I did it. I just work hard, that’s all. Dad kept beaming throughout the whole dinner that night, but I told Mom I didn’t want anything special. She still made me my favorite fried chicken.

I guess…it did feel good. Really good, in fact. When I woke up the next morning I looked at my badge a little before putting it on. Then I got in extra early so I could look at the schematics before my team came in. Gotta set a good example.

I’ve been doing some reading up on Zeruon in my spare time. Damn, it takes a lot to get that hunk of metal working! The science is all way beyond me, but I like reading up about the past pilots. Some of them weren’t too good (at least that’s how I see it) but before the propaganda machine really started up, they just took whoever they could get who could make the damn thing move.

A lot of them were ex-military, like Grandpa was. Some had to be conscripted, but some volunteered willingly. The aliens were everyone’s problem, after all.

The scientists come next, and then the technicians…so many people, all doing the best they can. I can’t even remember all their names, they’re just too many of them. And all those are just for Zeruon. I know there are other Mobile Defense Units…but Zeruon’s ours. And we have to make sure it works just right.

I can’t spend too much time on the books, though. We have parts to make, and a war to win. I just read the rest at home most of the time now.

We completed that order and started work on the next one. Jake complains that I work them all too hard, but I just want us to be prepared. There’s no telling what kind of invaders will come next – why, just the other day there was this lizard thing on the news. It almost got through the plate armor, but the heat shielding held, and one Megaton Punch later it was down.

I cheered, and my whole crew cheered with me. I let them order pizza while we were watching the news, as long as no one got anything dirty (they didn’t) It was the least I could do for them.

What’s that my Dad is always saying about hard work? I’m not going to let the factory lose out to everyone else, no sirree. Zeruon is a team effort. We’ll show those invaders that hard work makes a difference.

Memorial Day is coming up.

It’s as somber an occasion as they come. No one works for a few days, and everyone dresses in black – well, not everyone, but a lot of folk do. There are speeches, and a procession. All the flags fly at half-mast.

I used to hate the holiday. It was so…different than everything I’d ever experienced. Doesn’t really seem like a holiday when everyone’s so sad, right? At least that’s what I thought when I was a kid.

Now that I’m older…I kind of get it. We have to celebrate the bad times, too. The things that didn’t happen as much as the things that did. We have to make sure we don’t forget, so we can do better next time. Maybe that’s what part of growing up is like.

Some people blame the pilot for what happened that day. Some blame the military, the parts, the science behind it…and for a long time, I think I did too. I listened to all the speeches and each year, another point of view seemed to be more reasonable than the last.

But from where I’m standing now (which is near the head of the procession, since I’m the assembly line head and all) I don’t even think about blame. None of that is going to bring Grandpa back. Nor any of the other hundreds who died on that day. They all did their best – which is just what I’m going to as well.

We have a duty. A responsibility. It’s not just our town anymore…it’s the whole world. Our factory needs to produce the best parts it possibly can, so that the Mobile Defense Units have one less worry on their hands.

The procession is a short one this year, which is just as well – I have a lot of work that needs to be done. Paperwork, too – I hate that, but it comes with the job.

I keep waiting for Dad to tell me he’s proud of me, until one day I realized I don’t need to. I can see it in his eyes every time I get ready for work and go out the door.

Before I know it, it’s been a year. My bike has sat unused in the corner of the shed for a while, but my parents haven’t said a word. They’re too smart to do that.

Jake is saying I’ll make foreman one day at the rate I’m going and I know there have been some whispering in the head office to that effect. Whatever. I don’t really care.

I got to meet Keith Edwards last week. He came down to the factory, shook everyone’s hand. He seems like a real standup guy, not just what the tabloids say. I looked him right in the eye and told him that he wouldn’t have to worry about quality control for his lasers when I was in charge.

He laughed and slapped me on the back. I can still feel it.

I thought I wanted some excitement in my life, but I realized that actually I just want to do a good job and make sure everyone’s safe. To work hard, then go home, eat a nice dinner with in the company of my family and then do it all over again.

It’s not glamorous, but it’s…what do you call it, worthwhile? Meaningful? It’s what Grandpa would have wanted, I think.

But enough talking. The head unit needs replacement (always a pain, that one) the molecular converter could use an overhaul and we’ll need…let’s see here, four arms and three legs before the day is out. What do they think we are, machines?

But they’ll get them. Oh, they’ll get them. And then the invaders can kiss their sorry alien butts goodbye. Because while they may have fangs, claws, and energy coming out God knows where, no one (and I mean NO ONE) works harder than my crew.

I’m going to open with a bold statement - there’s never been a better time for queerness in gaming than now. We are living in an era in which even though there still is discrimination and prejudice around these areas, queer representation in gaming is thriving, alive and well.

These articles (which I’ve found so you don’t have to) do a pretty good job of touching on representation through a historical lens, covering most eras and the notable games within :

• A Pixelated Progress: A look at LGBTQ Characters in Video Games

• Queer representation in video games has never been better – let’s not stop now (even the Guardian gets in on it!)

• Bi Design: A History of Bisexuality in Gaming

• The History of Bisexuality in Gaming

So I won’t delve too much into what they already cover. The articles above have tackled the historical perspective pretty well (I even learned some things!) so for the rest of this short piece, I’d like to turn my attention as to how certain franchises both major and minor have touched on LGBT themes and represented their characters.

(Far from it for me to quibble about dates too much, but the historian and journalist in me can’t help but notice a discrepancy – the first bisexual main character in gaming is not Tatsuya from Persona 2 (1999) as the Fandom article states, but rather the protagonist of Phantasmagoria 2 : A Puzzle of Flesh (1996)

Also, Solid Snake is apparently the first video game character to use the word “bisexual.” Fancy that!)

It has taken Final Fantasy about 30+ years to include an openly gay character in its mainline titles, despite their have been a lot of subtext in previous ones (I’m looking at you, FFX) and small mentions here and there (the openly gay NPCs in FF14, for instance) In Ff16, though, Dion and Terence are openly gay – which is a progressive step forwards for a flagship JRPG series.

(A slight digression into the world of other media, but after a similar length of time, the Gundam franchise has openly lesbian characters get married in one of its mainline titles. And there is an extremely queer tabletop RPG called Thristy Sword Lesbians (obviously inspired by Shoujo Kakumei Utena) but those would probably make good material for another article)

By now, the LGBT themes of the Life is Strange franchise are pretty well-known (at least in gaming circles) While I thought it interesting that the first entry into the series featured queer teenagers with mental illness (with a trigger warning no less! Where was this when I was 18?) I didn’t expect Don’t Nod to make an entire franchise out of them.

Narratively, the games are interesting in that because they are video games, you can actually choose how queer (or not) you make the main characters, at least for the first game. Even in the later installments in which the protagonist’s orientation is already established when you begin the game, you get to choose who to date.

To me, that’s one of the strength of gaming as a fictive medium – individual agency. Outside of interactive fiction, you don’t get to pick how a character in a book or movie responds – you’re just along for the ride.

The Borderlands series is perhaps better known for being an FPS Diablo with guns and for its comic book styling than it’s queer representation…but it sure has a lot of it.

Gay, lesbian and bisexual characters dot its landscape, ranging from the major (Mad Moxxi, Tina) to the minor (Mr. Torgue, Hammerlock) One thing I like about it is how diverse the cast feels – just like in real life, queer people aren’t confined to a single mode of expression or dress, and I like how in recent years gaming has stepped away from the somewhat tired old tropes of drag and camp.

(For more - Borderlands: Every LGBTQ+ Character In The Franchise)

While I can’t say that I’m a huge fan of League of Legends, I feel that I would be remiss in not at least mentioning that it has a reasonably wide assortment of queer characters, from pansexual pirates, Celesbians (celestial lesbians, although I thiiiinnnnnk Leona is bi) and bisexual polyamorous mermaids. The representation here is along the lines of what I would have liked to see growing up (why are there no gay dwarves? Why can’t orcs be lesbians?) and it’s heartening to see such a large franchise commit to representation in a sustained way.

Sometimes when franchises mature, they also become more queer. Bridget’s coming out as trans in Guilty Gear surprised exactly no long term fans because…well, just look at what she used to look like? And Testament’s reveal as nonbinary fits their backstory and character to a T.

Street Fighter is another venerable franchise that has moved in this direction. Poison’s actual orientation has been a mystery ever since she appeared – there are many stories dating from gaming’s less enlightened age in the game tried to skirt around outright calling her a transvestite (and then having a Capcom executive confirm it)

However, the current statement from Capcom seems that they don’t have one – fans are free to interpret her as they see fit.

In SF6, Marisa is an openly bisexual and polyamorous character who is very Ryu-like in her search for suitable suitors – they just need to be strong and worthy of battle. Her storyline also deals with marrying more than one person and more than one gender, so it’s nice to see a more non-traditional take on things.

Thirsty Suitors is a pretty unique game that I feel deserves a lot more attention. I played it because it shone a spotlight on a segment of the population that rarely gets any mention – queer Southeast Asian immigrants. The game treats its subject matter with lightness and verve,

One thing I felt deserved mention was how…normally the game treated Jaya’s bisexuality. There are in-game reasons for that (no spoilers in this article) but I appreciated how it was not made a big deal out of, as is so often the case with media that focused on these themes. There’s nothing wrong with a tight focus when it fits the story, but it was refreshing to see an altogether different take on it which was both more humorous but no less poignant for that.

Goodbye Volcano High has a non-binary protagonist (to my knowledge, currently gaming’s only one) and I Was a Teenage Exocolonist has a well-deserved reputation for being the game with “blue hair and pronouns” – it has lots of both. While I can’t say that much about the former (haven’t not played it despite its interesting premise – full disclosure!) the latter has a vast plethora of characters of almost every kind of orientation. The game deals with how coming out and the biological changes that accompany puberty are sometimes the same in Earth or space, and whatever color your hair might be.

I greatly enjoyed Boyfriend Dungeon (so much so that I covered the opening on my Youtube channel!) and it’s all-inclusive take on dating and relationships – you can date anyone, basically. The characters are all varied and interesting, from all walks of life, age and race. But what I love about it is the fact that regardless of what your orientation may be or how you express, the foundations of self-love, growth and functional relationships are the same – trust, understanding, and taking responsibility. The game navigates those themes with style and panache, the writing (as I’ve seen one review saw) being “equal parts thirsty and thoughtful”

Tracer’s reveal as a lesbian in Overwatch was to my knowledge the first time a queer character has been on the cover art of a triple A game, and was widely well received by the community and press. While the game also has other queer characters, my eye is naturally trained on milestones of this nature, historical or otherwise.

While I don’t profess to be a Bioware fan, the vast amount of queer representation in almost all its keynote franchises hasn’t escaped my attention. Commander Shepard can romance basically anyone. So can many people in Dragon Age.

There are of course also tons of indie games with varying degrees of queer inclusion and representation which is beyond the scope of this article to cover. I’ve also chosen not to focus too much on games that I haven’t played or that I don’t have too much experience with, so I won’t be talking about Stardew Valley or Undetale much.

I guess all this begs the question of – why is representation important anyway? This is a question that I get asked a lot, and one that I’m happy to answer. Generally the prevailing view is that it helps to see ourselves in the media that we consume.

Like many Asian queer youths growing up in the 80 and 90s, it was hard to find people like myself anywhere – either in real life or in any form of media. (And if you think finding positive queer representation was hard, try looking into mental illness…) A lot of what I learnt about LGBTness was from anime like Sailor Moon, Evangelion and of course, video games.

People consume media – that’s a fact that no one is going to argue about, I hope. And how issues like these are treated – as well as how characters are depicted – does shape ones view of the world and society.

I would wager than positive representation goes a long way in creating a world in which queerness is more openly heard and understood. It’s one thing to read about it in a textbook and quite another to have it depicted in popular culture and fiction.

(A more thorough look at the subject - Why Representation Matters and Why It’s Still Not Enough)

We’ve come a long way since the subtext laden 80s and 90s, and creators having to skirt and tiptoe around the issue. Now, many games are front and center with their brand of queerness, and I think that can only be a good thing.

The future looks bright for LGBTness in games, and let’s hope it keeps being that way. As media worldwide becomes more inclusive in general, I hope for a time in which all people can relate without terms like intertextuality having to be used…because there won’t be any need for them any longer.

The colony world of Strethlise had been discovered long ago by colonists from Earth, its warm winds and fertile land made it an ideal place for people to settle. Shiploads of people from overcrowded Earth landed on the green planet, eager to start a new life there.

At first, terraforming the land did not work, and scientists were puzzled as to why their carefully handpicked seeds did not take root. Until people discovered that the planet itself regulated its own cycle of life and death. The flowers called Theresia bloom send spores all over the planet, where they nest in each and every flower, tree and patch of soil. When, at the end of their life, these plants die, the spores return to the earth, appearing again as the flowers and once again releasing their life-giving essence into the air.

But no power of science brought from Earth had been able to make the flowers bloom. The colonists despaired until one day, from the sky, a dragon of light appeared, seeming to shine rays of brilliant color down on the barren earth. Only then did the flowers open their petals and start the cycle of life anew.

The people called this event the Blossoming, and learned that it only happened once every four or five years. And sometimes the Dragon would appear, but not descend, and in those years the people simply sighed and tightened their belts, saving their food and supplies for the next few lean years. Whether in was in two years or ten, the Dragon would eventually come down, and they would be able to plant and harvest again. This the people knew and believed, and as generation after generation was born on Strethlise, they grew to accept this.

In a small house on the open plains, there lives a boy called Theo. His father died in a farming accident when he was young, and he has been raised ever since by his mother, a slim and wan young lady called Alice. All his life he has been raised on tales of the Dragon cycle, told to him by his uncle Hendrik. His uncle tells him that everyone on the planet is part of the cycle somehow, that the Blossoming is the most beautiful thing that he will ever see, and that one day he may be lucky enough to see the Dragon.

The boy believes these stories. He drinks them in like water and plays with them in his mind every day. It is a lonely life far away from any town, with only other farmers and his small family to talk to, and the stories keep him lively and banish boredom. Day after day, under his mother's watchful eye, he acts out what it would be like to see the Dragon, to see the Blossoming, and maybe to be a farmer like his dear departed father.

The years pass, and the boy grows up - still not too big, still a boy, and still young. But older than before, so it is not too much trouble to fetch and carry when he can. He still listens to the stories whenever he can, but now he helps out his mother around the house, and his uncle in the fields.

One day his uncle takes him aside and tells him something - tells him that this year, because of the weather cycle and star movements, they may be able to actually see the Dragon! The boy is overjoyed. He can hardly believe it. He will be able to see it – the subject of many of the stories and tales he’s been told since young.

So he looks up at the clouds and promises himself that he will go there. He will go to see the Dragon, and if he has to he will call it down from the sky. He believes - with all the innocence of youth - that it will listen to him.

This is his story.

"Theo! Theo!"

The boy turns to face the source of the voice. As the running figure approaches, he breaks into a smile. It’s Petra, a girl from the village. She usually comes to tell him when it's lunchtime, or when they can take a break from working and rest under the trees for a while. Today, though, it's different.

"Theo! Your uncle says to come quick. He needs some help with something, he didn't say what." The girl paused, panting from the long run. "And he says to not take the shorter road because it's muddy from last night's rain." she added.

"Thanks, Petra." Theo pauses to stretch for a second, his eyes travelling up to the sky. It's so blue, he thinks. So wide. He wondered how long it would take the Dragon to travel from one end to the other. Then with a wave to the girl, he is off.

As he runs along the green fields he thinks about what his uncle told him a month before, about how this year, if they finished all their preparations for the harvest this year, he would take him to see the Dragon. There would be enough time to get there and back, especially if they took a buggy.

Soon the familiar sight of his uncle's barn comes into view, and he runs into it, pausing only to stroke the orange cat (who always seems to be around in the afternoon) perched on a fence. He steps into the storeroom and calls out.

"Uncle! What do need my help for?"

As the old man catches sight of the boy, his craggy, weatherbeaten face breaks into a smile. His gestures to the sacks strewn around the wooden floor of the storehouse. "Come here, Theo. Help me move these sacks out. Old Man Anderson has asked me to get them to his house today, and you know how he is. If we don't move them by evening he'll have complained to the whole village about how lazy I am."

The boy nods and begins to haul each sack into a wheelbarrow that sits nearby. It is tiring work, but Theo does it without complaint. After about half of them are done, his uncle calls a halt to his labors.

"Theo, we can take a break now." He takes out some canteens filled with water and bread, along with an assortment of local plant leaves. It’s not the fanciest of meals, but it will serve to keep their bodies and souls together.

Theo begins to eat. Bread halfway to his mouth, "When are we going to see the Dragon, uncle? Next week? Or the week after that?"

The boy's question is met with uncharacteristic silence from his uncle. While he looks on, the older man takes a long drink from his water canteen. It is obvious he doesn't want to answer. Finally placing it down, he turns to the boy with a heavy heart and speaks.

"Theo...we may not be able to go and see the Dragon this year.”

"But why? I thought you said we would have enough time?" The boy's face is shocked, his voice plaintive.

The older man shakes his head. He doesn't like to have to do this. But it is better than lying. In all his forty years Hendrik still doesn't find lying any easier, still hates it with all his honest, simple, heart. So he opens his mouth and tells the truth.

"The news was wrong, lad. The Dragon won't be coming down near us this year. It will be farther north, much farther north. We won't be able to go there and be back in time. I've never even been that far north in my whole life! It..."

"But you said! You said that - " He is cut off with a wave of his uncle's hand, but his face still is frozen in shocked dismay.

"Now, Theo! I said I would bring you if there was enough time. Now there isn't, and that's that. I'm as sad as you are. Don't be crying now. " Not knowing what to say, and painfully that his aware that his words weren't making Theo feel any better, his uncle - a simple man at heart - falls back onto old homilies and adages, masking his own disappointment with gruffness.

“Alright, it’s time to get back to work.” He says after a while, hoping the labor will forestall any further conversation. It does, but at the cost of much awkwardness. A tense silence fills the storehouse as the two load more sacks into the wheelbarrow, neither saying a word - one filled with disappointment, one with a vague sense of misplaced guilt.

Later that night, Theo has eaten his dinner and gone to bed early, a rare occurrence. He was tired, he said, after all the work in the afternoon. But the truth of the matter was that he was still too upset at his uncle to want to speak to him much. Alice, perhaps divining a little of what passed between them, decides to let him do so and does not insist he make polite conversation as she normally would.

From his bedroom, the boy hears the adults talking. He pays only scant attention as he dreams beneath the bedsheets. Theo has never been a rebellious boy – in fact, the villagers often said that he was complaint to a fault. But he had had his heart set on this particular trip, and he felt that he couldn’t wait another year – or another day.

He sits at the window, looking out into the night sky as the adults’ chatter fills the background. He lets his gaze travel along the constellations that he knows, and tries to estimate distance by the stars. They will do for a map, he thinks. And he’ll sleep in the woods and work to earn food when he needs it. He will go. Whether or not they let him.

The next few days pass by quickly. Alice is surprised by the change in her son. Expecting sullen anger and sadness, she finds the boy still cheerful, energetic, even. His uncle is pleased, and at the same time relieved - he is so used to the happy and smiling Theo that he wouldn't know how to react to anything different.

But Theo is unconcerned, because he is making his own preparations. He knows he will need food and water for the journey for when he cannot find any. He will need to rest his body. And he will need to wait for his mother to sleep so he can steal out of the house. He spends his time thinking of how he will get there, how far it may be, and how the Dragon will look like when it comes down.

Another week goes by. At last, the time comes - just another day for the villagers, but a time of decision for Theo. His uncle is leaving to play cards at a friend's house, and his mother is turning in early.

During the night, he gathers a bag filled with everything he needs - or thinks he needs. Food. Water. A change of clothes. He doesn't think to bring a map. His uncle's directions "north, far north" – as well as the stars he knows well - are enough.

He takes one more look around the house, scribbles a hastily-written note to his mother not to worry. Then it's one step out of the door and into the night, into the north.

He has run away. The reality of the situation only really hits him as he is more than a mile away from his house – the farthest he’s ever been. He doesn’t feel tired or hungry, instead only rejoicing in the feel of the sun on his face and the wind on his skin. It’s good to be outdoors, and he likes the exercise. He takes a shortcut through the fields, eschewing the open road for a while, and starts to run for the sheer pleasure of it.

If he were an older boy, or a less carefree one, maybe he would have stopped and paused, the reality of the situation hitting him. Perhaps he would have thought of the difficulty of getting to Giant's Ridge. How he may not have enough food., or what if it rained? Or worse, what if something happened? No one knew he was gone, and he had never been so much as out of the village before.

But the boy, running fleet-footed among the seas of grain, doesn't think of these things. He thinks only that he is going to see the Dragon. When his exuberance wanes slightly, he gets back onto the road, having enough sense to not wear himself out.

And because the years of farm work have made him strong, his pace does not falter even as the sun sets and then rises again, his feet beating out a rhythm on the paved roads as he continues to walk, unceasingly, untiring, further north.

But the way to Giant's Ridge is long, and eventually, by the end of the second day, the boy was tired. He had enough sleep because he had rested along the way, but he was out of food, and out of water, and he still didn't know exactly where he was.

for a moment, his resolution, unwavering till now, faltered. Maybe he would be too late. Maybe even if he got there, the Dragon would have left. Maybe...

Theo shook his head. He would get there. He was going to see the Dragon this year.

The sound of a low humming broke the stillness of the afternoon air. Theo shaded his eyes and gazed about, trying to see where it came from. It sounded like an aircycle...but...an aircycle here? These were farming fields. It would be hard going for any kind of vehicle.

The sound grew louder, and eventually, as the boy looked on curiously, an aircycle did come into view over a small hill. It's movement was bumpy and its engine seemed to cough and sputter. A man with a wide-brimmed hat was riding it, but before long he brought it to a halt.

The rider dismounted and began to poke and prod at its insides. It soon became obvious to Theo that the man didn't know what to do. Still, he continued to stand there and watch. He wasn't used to strangers, but Theo was curious all the same. What was a man doing out here on an aircycle?

After a while, the man began to fume. Then he began to scold the aircycle, haranguing it about how it was worthless and stupid, a useless piece of scrap metal. Finally, he tried a few well-placed kicks to the engine - which did nothing except leave some scuff marks. Nothing worked. Sighing, he took a look around...and that was when he saw Theo crouching among the bushes.

Startled, the man took a step back...promptly banging into the aircycle and sending them both sprawling to the ground.

Theo couldn't help it. He started laughing. And once he started laughing, he found that he couldn't stop. The man paused to rub his sore bottom, looked at the boy, and then also commenced chuckling. For a time the only sound in the grain fields was that of the two people laughing - amidst occasional wisps of steam from the aircycle.

The stranger recovered enough to catch his breath. "What's your name, boy?"

"Theo." The boy tried a smile on the stranger. It seemed to work, because the man smiled back.

"What are you doing out here all alone?

"I'm going to see the Dragon. My uncle told me it would be coming down north this year."

The stranger stared. He knew what Theo didn't - that it was far – too far – Giant’s Ridge, and that he wouldn't make it on foot. But because he was a kindly man, he made a offer.

"Here, my aircycle can seat two. Let me try to get it working, and maybe we can get to the next town." He boarded the machine once more and pressed the switch, feeling the engine reluctantly sputter to life. The man beamed at the boy, who was gawking openly.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Come on!”

Travelling on the aircycle was not at all as Theo had expected – it was surprisingly smooth, and much faster than walking. Whatever engine trouble the stranger had seemed to have bene resolved, and after a few hours they arrived in another town. Buying more food was the first order of business, and so both travelers hurried into a store as soon as possible, setting aside the aircycle outside.

The general store was crowded with many people, and Theo and Bieter (for that was the man’s name) waited patiently for the crowd to thin somewhat. While looking, suddenly, Theo turned to ask his new friend a question.

"Why are you going to see the Dragon?"

For a moment, the question gives the other man pause. He thinks for a while - considering, calculating - before he answers.

"Why, doesn't everyone want to see the Dragon? It's the most beautiful thing in the world.

The answer seems to satisfy Theo, and he smiles and walks out of the store. The man heaves a sigh of relief. It seems that he is not using to answering that question. Maybe not even used to asking it of himself.

They spend some time in the town, getting supplies, resting (but not too much, Theo warned the bemused traveler) and making repairs to the aircycle. While it was working smoothly now, it didn’t make sense to take any chances. The shop owner had listened attentively to Bieter describe the problems they were having, then proceeded to open up the machine and promptly declared it "wasn't anything he hadn't fixed before a thousand times."

Meanwhile, they also listened to the news about the Dragon. They couldn't help but do so - that was all the town was talking about. Everyone had heard about how it would be appearing somewhere north, and so quite a few folk were on their way there. The Blossoming was regarded as quite an auspicious event, and so there were those who wanted good fortunes for marriages, births and the like.

But not everyone held the event in the same reverence that the boy did. For every one that expressed an interest in the sight, some cared not a whit for it. There were even some who would make a game out of it, and had bets placed on whether or not the Dragon would come down.

Theo couldn't take it. For all of his young life he had read about, hear about how the Dragon would descend upon the land and shine its light on the flowers, making them bloom. He was about to stand up and talk to one particularly loud townsperson when Bieter placed a restraining hand on his shoulder.

"Don't bother, lad. They won't listen." Theo allowed himself to be held back, sat back into the chair he had gotten up from, turning his questioning eyes to the man beside him. "Why, Bieter? Why won't they listen? The Dragon will come down, won't it?"

"They don't believe like you or I do, lad." the man said mildly. "That's all there is to it."

"But why not? If the Dragon doesn't come down, there won't be any Blossoming. The plants won't grow. How can that happen?"

The traveler paused before replying. He could tell the boy the truth - that some people, especially in the bigger cities, didn't even think the Dragon existed anymore. That scientists back on Earth had found that it was just a concentration of gases and light, that the Blossoming could be explained in entirely mundane and scientific terms.

In fact, that was what he was here to do. He had a paper he was writing on the phenomena, one that might just be his ticket off-world if it was accepted by a symposium. But all that would be too cruel to hear, for one so young.

But then the boy asked another question, seeming to forget he hadn't even gotten an answer to his first one.

"But do you believe the Dragon will come down? You do, don't you?"

For a moment Bieter stared back in amazement. Then "Yes, yes of course I do" he managed to stammer out. But he was still shocked at the suddenness of the question and surprised by his reply.

And he had to ask himself - did he believe? Did it matter?

The next day dawned with the two of them on the road again. Theo was in high spirits - they had food, they had water, and they had an clearer idea of where to go at last. His older companion was more realistic. He knew that they still had a lot of road to cover, and their detour to the town to fix the aircycle had cost them precious time.

Still, he didn't mention any of this to Theo. He had grown, in the short space of time, to become rather fond of the boy.

And who wouldn't be? Besides him, Theo continued to chatter on non-stop, filling up the dawn air with every kind of story imaginable. Do you know that some flowers can bloom all year round? I picked one of them up just last week and gave it to my mom, she liked it a lot. Then after that I went out to get something for my uncle. Did you know he once went to...he talked about this and that, telling him stories of his family, the villagers, and the land around them. And did you know that Oswald in the next village actually has a boat? A real live boat!

How does he keep it up, Bieter wondered once or twice during his journey. All that energy, all that enthusiasm. He doesn't even drink more water than I do! The boy, sandy-haired and blue-eyed, was afire with the enthusiasm of youth, filled with childish vigor…so different than his son.

How had that thought come about. He hadn't thought about his son in years. Thought he had sealed the memory so deep down that it would only come out - the safe times, when he had time to sorrow in peace, away from the real world for a while.

And of course on days like today. The boy had loved to see the Dragon, and on the few times that he’d managed to – before the sickness had felled him – it was always something that they would talk about fondly for days afterwards.

So the man stooped his head down in pain so that Theo wouldn’t see, and the boy, blissfully oblivious, continued his stories. The aircycle sped down the roads gently, and along the beaten paths hills turned to forests which turned to valleys and back to hills. They were heading north, to see the Dragon.

Two days passed.

The time for the Dragon's arrival was fast approaching, and now, barely an hour would pass before Theo asked what time it was and where they were.

They discovered at the last moment that their map of the area, purchased in town, was too old. They were near the area, but didn't know precisely where the Dragon would appear. The terrain didn't help either - it was alternately rocky or sandy, both difficult for the aircycle to traverse.

But they had come too far to give up now. Theo tried to find their position using the stars, and along with some old notes that Bieter had, they finally managed to ascertain its position – or so they hoped. If they were wrong, they would miss it by a mile or more.

Fortunately, they were not. As night fell, the two companions managed to follow the trail that other travelers had left and soon came to an open space where quite a few had gathered. It was about half a mile from Giant’s Ridge, and one could still see the rocky arch behind them as they gazed up into the sky.

It started slowly at first, a few lights appearing on the inky blackness of night. Then the tracery of lights knit itself together and it looked like the sky was on fire - swirling with a blaze of colors, the stars a twinkling backdrop to a blinding coruscation of light. Out from the darkness seemed to come a shape, a pattern of fiery lines tracing themselves across the jet expanse of space.

The Dragon had appeared.

The boy, ecstatic, ran forwards as if to embrace it. It hung in the sky, shimmering seeming to beckon to him. It was more beautiful than he had imagined, and his joy overflowed.

Even behind him, Bieter had dropped all his papers and notes and stood, mouth agape. All semblance of scientific objectivity left him as he stood awestruck. It was one thing to read about it in journals – and quite another to see it firsthand.

As the living constellation pulsed in the night sky, time seemed to stand still. Then for a moment it seemed as if the image would fade - the radiance above seemed to drift slightly higher, almost disappearing from sight.

"No!"

The boy's cry split the night air.

"No! Come back! Dragon! Please, come back!"

He was crying now, as he ran forwards, even shedding a tear or two as he cried out once, twice. He wanted it so badly he could almost taste it. He didn’t want it to go! Not when he’s come all this way.

it hung in the air, still shimmering, misting the air with gold. Then slowly, incredibly, as if it had heard the boy's cry and decided to respond, it began to descend.

The Dragon drifted downwards, inching every closer to the ground…and then exploded into a shower of sparks like fireworks that crowned the heads of the onlookers. Theo smiled as only a child who had had his fondest wish fulfilled could.

Thus Theo was known from that day far and wide as the Boy Who Called Down the Dragon. He could never repeat the feat and didn’t want to, even when it was found that the Blossoming that had happened that year was the greatest on record yet. He was still, after all, a child, and once his whimsy had been satisfied, he was content to return to his life as it was before the tales had sparked a fire in his head and in his soul.

Did the Dragon really hear him? Was it just a fluke or random act of chance? Life on Strethlise was hard enough even with the greatest Blossoming they had had in decades, and so most folk didn’t care one way or another. Most on the planet were a practical sort, so if the event could not be repeated – and those who had seen Theo call it down simply said it had been a young boy shouting at the stars – they soon lost interest

Bieter submitted his report and it was well received indeed. Scientists from Earth came one day, asking about the phenomenon, wanting to write it up in fancy books and journals. Some said that it was possible that the Dragon could be a form of bacteria that responded to brainwaves – there had been research on xenobiology that suggested that it might be possible, Others still pooh-poohed it and pointed to ambient gases as being the more sound theory.

But the ships left eventually and brought back the men to Earth with one more in tow, and the cycle of life and birth continued on the colony planet. Perhaps no one would ever know for sure, and perhaps it didn’t even matter.

But on one day, a boy’s dream had come true, and that tale became one that was passed down on his world for years hence. For the Blossoming of that day had resulted in not just the greatest harvest that Strethlise had ever seen, but the wishes of all that had seem it coming true as well. Babies were born healthy, and illnesses healed and marriages happy.

And so even as the boy himself faded into obscurity, the tales of that night were kept alive with hope. For it is that most human of qualities that never fades or grows dull, regardless of the reasons for it to do otherwise.

Anime has been a huge part of my life, responsible in many ways from my recovery from crippling mental illness and parental abuse. Even though I’m not quite the otaku that I used to be and wouldn’t be able to name any popular Vtuber (and am still not used to releases being in “seasons”…) I still love and cherish the artform.

I’ve brought various series to my therapist many times in our work together, and I’ve seen her struggle to understand the art and values of a culture quite alien to her. But the use of media as a healing modality is not new – in fact, it dates back many years.

Bibliotherapy is essentially using books to heal. People are encouraged to draw upon the experiences of fictional characters to better understand themselves and their problems. When is the last time that you read a book – or watched a movie, or anime – and you really felt a kinship with one of the characters? It went beyond a feeling of “oh, I understand” Perhaps it was more like “that’s me! that’s it! That’s what I am feeling!”

Those feelings and identifications can be fertile ground for healing and understanding. A related field is graphic medicine (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Graphic_medicine) All of these tap into the healer’s maxim – you need to feel to heal.

I would respectfully submit that anime can be used in this vein as well. So, Exhibit A – Neon Genesis Evangelion.

NGE’s impact on the landscape of anime cannot be understated, and at this point in time – almost 3 decades after it’s initial air date – doesn’t really need explanation. The psychological depth of the work and how it deals with mental illness is a landmark in the development of the artform.

Early on in its lifespan in the West, many an anime magazine has asked why Shinji was such a wimp. Why are the characters so messed up? In the many years since it’s inception, there have been some that have tried to answer that question.

For a more thorough and robust look, this article goes deeper.

https://medium.com/@dmapes/japanese-portrayal-of-mental-health-and-american-consumption-of-neon-genesis-evangelion-3b416eaadaad

Mental health is still unfortunately a taboo subject in some of the world, especially Asia, and works like NGE could help in broaching issues that are not often discussed. Hideaki Anno’s own struggle with depression that culminated in his creation of the series is quite well-known.

Perhaps what helped me the most in the series was seeing my own life writ large on the screen. I was a young Asian teenager with depression, a dysfunctional family as well as my own latent and unacknowledged bisexuality. Watching NGE was a watershed moment for me…wait. Cartoon characters can be depressed? Can have dysfunctional families? Can be bisexual?

This wasn’t Disney (Either then or now!) that was for sure. While Disney and Pixar are touching on some of these topics in their later work, I do believe that in this respect, anime did get there first.

While NGE is probably (and rightfully) the animated work most associated and known for its depiction of mental illness, there are other ones that generally fly a little under the radar – and so I hope to bring them to your attention.

Kodomo no Omocha (Child’s Toy) is a more understated look at another taboo subject – parental abuse and neglect. Hayama “acts out” (to use psychological language) in school because he’s neglected at home, and is part of an extremely unhelpful family dynamic (no spoilers!)

The main character’s later attempts to befriend him and get him out of his shell do eventually shed light on exactly why he might behave the way that he does – and remind us that abuse and neglect of any kind rarely exist in a vacuum. The abusers are in a sense also victims – these actions, while still inexcusable, are seen in a different light as the series progresses, and reconciliation is also shown to be possible.

What does a series about a rough-riding biker chick have to do with this touchy subject? While it’s not the main focus on the narrative by far, Michiko to Hatchin does actually have a very graphic and realistic portrayal of child abuse right in its first episode. It’s heavy going to watch, but the way Hana deals with her situation is a reminder of the grim reality of an abused child.

And sometimes it’s the series that you don’t think that will help that do. One scene from Read or Die the TV stands out for me – when Anita goes into shock from seeing something that triggers a traumatic memory. Michelle simply stands in front of her and tells her that she’s here right now – not in the past, and she’s safe. Sometimes the simplest of interventions are the best, and the older sister’s words serve to snap her out of the dark memory and into the present. Trauma is healed right here, in the now – informing the psyche and the nerves that the danger is past and life is ready to be lived once more.

In short, I’ve found that what works is seeing the characters you know struggle to understand and overcome many of the things we face in our lives. When we can see it outside of ourselves, we gain perspective. We can keep the work as far or as close as we desire – diving deep into it to experience troubling emotions in safety, or zooming out to understand it from a different angle. The characters and shows that we know and all will always be there for us – to inspire, educate and help us understand worlds both real and fictional.

What shows and series have spoken to you? How has anime touched your heart?

This manga came out of nowhere to me – I cannot for the life of me remember where I first saw it, but it definitely sparked a sensation of “where has this gem been hiding!” which is all too scarce these days. It evokes a sense of wonder that I do not often feel, tired out as I am from a seemingly endless parade of isekai and harem anime. But before I slip into my Jaded Anime Fan Spiel (TM) again, I think it would be a better use of your time and mine to talk about exactly what makes this manga so special.

As Harry Potter and its like show us, stories about magic schools are not exactly new, and also not exactly scarce. What sets Witch Hat Atelier apart from its brethren is not just its superb worldbuilding and attention to detail (more about those later) but an charm and earnestness that I am hard pressed to find in many works, manga or no. Perhaps it’s due to the main characters being children (not even the teenagers that are so common to anime and manga) possessed of innocence that the world has not scoured away from them.

The naivete of youth meets cold, hard reality soon enough though. The main character Coco accidentally turns her mother into stone while searching for a way to cast the spells that she has so admired since young…and then discovers one of the hidden truths of their world – that anyone can use magic, but the magicians in power hide that fact from the general populace so that the mistakes of the past do not repeat themselves. Coco is then whisked away by her teacher, Qifrey, to an atelier of his own where he begins to train her in the arts of magic.

One of the manga’s strong points is definitely its robust plot development. The story moves at a brisk pace from one event to the next, at a pace that leads one turning the pages avidly. The pacing is solid – at no point did I feel that I wanted the story to move either more slowly or quickly, a rare feat indeed. While story arcs are concluded, the overarching plot points – such as the aforementioned hidden truths of the world – serve as a solid foundation that the rest of the story builds upon.

That alone would not be enough to make WHA stand out, but fortunately, that is far from its only strong point. The worldbuilding is also top-notch, and best of all, it’s done without heavy exposition! The author weaves the details of the world into the story nicely, interspersed through Qifrey’s patient explanations, the interactions of the students and even the chatter of the townsfolk.

The lack of text dumps makes learning about the setting a joy – you feel yourself fall into its world simply by reading the story and taking in the illustrations. The magical textbooks and explanations that the manga has bring to mind the PS3 game Folklore, in which the lore was presented in much the same way, to the same great effect.

Which brings me to my next point – the artwork. In a word, it’s great. WHA’s lush visuals evoke comparisons to Vanillaware’s Odin Sphere (Wikipedia says Studio Ghibli, but I can’t for the life of me see much of a connection there) in being both finely detailed and vibrant. The European influence on the work is evident, with motifs and line work clearly drawn from artists such as the French comics artist Moebius and the Spanish artist Alphonse Mucha (who is also said to have been a powerful influence on CLAMP, among others)

The manga does not shy away from asking hard questions, juxtaposing the innocence of youth with powerful drama. The question of the hidden truth of magic use is central to the series, and keeps being brought up at key intervals. Is it wiser to let people remain in ignorance of magic use (and go through elaborate lengths to maintain the deception) or might there be another, better way? The main antagonists certainly seem to think so, and they have Coco in their sights for reasons as yet unanswered.

Under this overarching theme, other arcs and characters explore issues ranging from authority to independence, the search for meaning and achievement, to creativity and its place in the world. Left unchecked, magic could indeed bring ruin to society, but are such draconian checks and balances really warranted when it could potentially do so much more good?

Coco begins to question a system of doing things that she once accepted without thinking, and the other characters have their own journeys to make as they continue to grow as students, magicians and most of all, humans. For someone who loves character development as much as I do, WHA is a treat to read as all the major characters have unique storylines and personalities which become all the more engaging when they interact with each other. From Qifrey’s dark past (to which it is still unknown how he will resolve) to Coco’s innocence and Agotta’s industry, all of them are fully realized humans living in a fantasy world that is no less real for its fictional nature.

All in all, I cannot recommend this manga highly enough. When writing this review I searched in vain for bad points to counterbalance my glowing review, but I couldn’t find any…except for the fact that the releases are too slow. 🙂 So I’ll just leave it as it. You should do yourself a favor and check it out.

As of this writing, WHA is still ongoing. The author also has a side story focused only on the food and cooking in this universe, Witch Hat Kitchen.

The Internet has been a staple of our daily lives for some time now. While I am old enough to remember a time with VHS tapes and – gasp – landlines for our phones – many are not. And whether for good or for ill, the Net as a whole is an invention of humanity that has changed virtually everything. Like any other such invention, it has the potential for great good as well as the capacity for misuse. One cannot go through a single day without hearing about doxxing, Facebook addiction or some such misfortune that is the sole purview of our digital age.

Mamoru Hosoda’s Belle is a different take on the connectivity and lack of privacy that so characterize our lives now. It is a more positive spin on things – a fairy tale that raises some questions, answers others, and shines a light on the dangers of social media overuse even as it shows how (as in real life) it is often the users and not the technology itself that drive things. The director comes to this tale with an impressive pedigree behind him, including The Girl Who Leapt Through Time, Wolf Children, and Summer Wars (the latter also touching on digital themes) I for one enjoyed the outing enough to write an article behind it.

The story starts simply enough. A young girl, Suzu Naito, has difficulty dealing with her mother’s death – she sacrificed herself to save a stranger’s child when Suzu was much younger. Her daughter now has largely withdrawn from the world, but still carries on her mother’s legacy in a way by singing. This would be a fairly prosaic and perhaps boring tale without the addition of the Internet – Suzu gets drawn into the virtual world of U by a classmate of hers, and soon becomes an overnight sensation due to her singing voice.

The movie takes a more serious turn as Belle/Suzu (she names herself Belle, as Suzu = bell in Japanese) struggles to deal with her newfound fame amidst the normal trials and tribulations of growing up, including a crush on an upperclassman. In Hosada’s hands, that oft-used (and misused!) trope becomes infused with a certain delicacy that his earlier works are known for – The Girl Who Leapt Through Time turned adolescent love on its head with time-travelling antics. While that is a minor rather than major plot point in this work, it is nice to see that the director hasn’t lost his touch in the depiction of springtime romance.

What I feel makes this anime stand out (besides its gorgeous visuals – the wide-angle shots of Belle singing to the digital natives of U never grow old, to say nothing of the castle and other set pieces) is how it handles the issue of child abuse. Without spoiling anything too much, the issue of protecting others who are unable to defend themselves is central to the plot of Belle. It shows how society often assumes how parents will step into this role without question, and more than that – it also dares to show how the abused themselves must feel.

The shot of one of the abused children in the movie, staring directly into the viewscreen accusingly and muttering “Help, help, help…people always say that, but never do it” is a powerful, haunting and all too real reminder of the problems facing anyone in such a situation of victimhood.

The theme of digital privacy wends its way adroitly amidst these disparate elements. Belle/Suzu faces questions surrounding her newfound fame and the juxtaposition of off and online identities – should she let the world know who she is? It is even possible to maintain a boundary between private and public selves in this day and age?

Things ratchet up a notch as the plot progresses and the identities of children get thrown into the mix. How can one know what is the right course of action when innocent lives are at stake? Corporations have
the corporate veil, but to what extent should the identities of minors be protected – and can they be?

While the movie opts for a defined ending and more questions answered than left hanging, the themes it raises are all too readily applicable to real life situations – which I believe to be one of its strengths. In its final moments, it also shows how regardless of age, time or distance, some connections transcend the real and virtual to show how strong we can be as humans.

Less a cautionary tale and more of a parable for our times, Belle is a visually and narratively compelling work that invites us to examine how human connections and bonds form and are sustained. Stellar voice-acting work from the cast and deft cinematography are more reasons that you should check this one out, especially if you have enjoyed the director’s previous outings.

I’ve always had a soft spot for shows like The Running Man. I was an 80s kid, so a bit too young to have caught the movie in theatres, but I liked the concept. I grew up in a time of cheesy gameshows and cheesier contestants, where every week brought Alex Trebek and Vanna White to our televisions. In terms of gaming, though, there was Smash TV – and who can forget the announcer’s voice cheerily telling you he’d buy that for a dollar?

But I digress. In any case, I’ve often thought that most TV shows could be improved with the addition of lasers and chainsaws (actually, most things could, but that is a story for another time) Showgunners takes that concept and runs with it, creating a game that while not extraordinary in any sense, is a surprisingly decent SRPG.

Setting wise, it’s nothing special. Dystopian reality, check. Capitalism rules, check. Gameshow with lasers and chainsaws (oh my!) that pardons hardened criminals if they success, and is open to entry to almost anyone…check. The story gets the job done, but I can’t say that I was particularly enamoured of any of the characters, nor did I find myself champing at the bit to know more. There are some plot twists which move the story along, and the main character’s motivation is solid, but nothing special.

Sound and music are standard fare. None of the music tracks particularly stood out to me, but I have to say that the sound effects had a chunky, grisly tone to them that fit the blood and guts aesthetic of the game well. I would have preferred that the devs embraced the hardcore nature of their offering and went full metal with the music, but I’m a metalhead myself, so that might be a purely subjective gripe of mine.

Which brings us to the art. I do dig the general vibe of the game – dark, brooding visuals with just the right amount of over-the-top comic bookishness to it. The world is further brought to life by cutscenes (not too bad, but nothing to write home about) and conversations with NPCs and audiologs scattered around your home base. I appreciate the lack of heavy exposition (which I dislike in games) and how the voice acting and character interactions flesh out the setting, rather than having lots of text dumps.

Credit where credit is due – the voice acting is quite good, and the announcer’s vocal quips during combat (which had enough variety to not get TOO annoying) and delivery made me smile and chuckle more than once. It all made the game come a little more alive for me – world building isn’t just lore entries and cryptic intro movies, folks.

I see what you’re thinking at this point – if everything is just mediocre, why bother? I certainly wouldn’t. There are lots of games on the market, and the SRPG genre has become crowded as of late with titles like the Advance Wars Reboot, Redemption Reapers and a few others that I could rattle off the tip of my tongue.

However, where the game excels is the gameplay. This isn’t a classic of the genre like Final Fantasy Tactics, but it does pretty well on its own merits. Think a smaller-scale XCOM and you get the drift. The genre staples are all there – Action Points, an Overwatch system, use of cover…but the game blends them well enough that you have to think tactically and employ the PCs strengths and abilities to survive. You only ever get 2 APs for the entire game, which is a design choice that works surprisingly well, forcing you to
plan ahead and remember that any attack will end your turn prematurely. I found it constructing at the start, but as the game progressed I got used to it, and it felt it overall worked well with the dark and gritty nature of the game.

Outside of combat, progression comes in the form of Cash, Fame and XP. Choosing perks for your characters is something that you’ll need to put a little more thought into because of the lack of any kind of respec system, but I found that the choices added weight to the game and synced nicely with everything else that was going on. Get more movement speed or melee damage?

That would also depend on what kind of Fame rewards you chose, and what kind of gear you brought into battle. The mark of a good combat system is having the progression be meaningfully tied to characters and gear, and Showgunners does this nicely.

The gameplay is broken up into chilling out at your home base (which I would have appreciated a little more content in) combat, and exploration segments in which Scarlet and her crew have to navigate between sections of the gameshow. I found these a welcome change from the standard SRPG fare – a mix of puzzles, avoiding traps and light NPC interactions. The loot boxes and autograph signings were the payoffs for getting through the dangers of these zones, and there was a good mix of optional dungeons for those who wanted more challenges, gear and XP.

One thing I could have done without were the Ambush encounters during the exploration segments. They were probably included to break up any possible monotony, but they just come off as annoying – too easy to offer any real threat or excitement, but unskippable. Another downer would have to be the loading times – the game takes a LONG time to load its assets and shaders, and that is irritating when going through multiple zone transitions in a short space of time – an event which is thankfully rare.

It’s worth noting that the combat AI in this game isn’t too shabby – the enemies will use cover and attack explosive barrels at any opportunity, so character placement is important. It sometimes spazzes out and has close-combatants run far away and status granting enemies create unnecessary shields, but it will still give you a run for your money. Full disclosure though – I am not a manly gamer man, so I played on Easy to have a relaxed experience.

The game says that at Normal and higher you will probably need to pay closer attention to
the game mechanics and while that is probably true, in my playthrough I just focused on a few strategies which proved more than sufficient for all the combat encounters.

Does this game do anything new? No. Is it worth your time if you’re looking for a decent to good SRPG? I’d have to say yes. While I didn’t actually beat the game, I didn’t feel that my 10+ hours into it were wasted, and it certainly scratched a grid-based itch in my heart that has gone unfulfilled ever since Into the Breach.

Overall Rating : 78

I’m not sure whether it’s a case of being hard to impress, or art just being terribly subjective – probably a little of both. You can keep your One Piece (never did it for me) One Punch Men and Attack on Titan – and yes, you can get your pitchforks out if you so desire. 🙂 However, once in a while, a manga will appear that genuinuely piques my interest…and sustains it.

Ladies and gentlemen, may I present…A Bride’s Story.

I’ll admit that I am not a fan of the author’s better known work – Emma, A Victorian Romance – which pushes only one of my buttons (romance) while the other I am utterly cold to.
The Edwardian period holds little interest to me, with its rigid morals and classist structures. Fortunately, A Bride’s Story is set at the turn of the 20th century, among nomadic tribes whose territory borders Russia. A period of time and area I knew next to nothing about before beginning to read – which is sort of the appeal.

One of the best things about manga, im my opinion, is how it can open up new subject material in fun and interesting ways. I knew nothing about American football before reading Eyeshield 21 – but somehow it managed to transform all the incomprehensible babblings I heard during matches into clear and detailed explanations. I won’t say I became a fan, but I certainly knew a lot more about how the sport really worked. Same goes for Cells at Work for biology, and baking for Yakitate Japan. No substitute for formal knowledge, of course, but a lot more fun!

In that vein, the author does not stint in the historical accuracy department. Her research is thorough, and it shows up in how she depicts the customs and traditions of the nomadic tribes of that time and place. No details are spared – from the cooking of lamb pilaf to embroidery, needlework and falconry, the rich illustrations bring the world of 1900s to life vividly.

The characters are also engaging and very human. I found the relationship between Karluk and his older wife intriguing – you don’t often see age gaps in relationships handled so deftly in any kind of media. Pariya’s sharp tongue being a detriment to her bridal prospects is both humorous and also very realistic – Islamic societies tend not to see such traits in women kindly. Then there is Talas’s tragic backstory and her search for happiness, which had me rooting for her all the well.

Last but not least, no mention of Otoyomemonogatari is complete without the twins, Laila and Leili. I darn you to read the manga without at least sparing a chuckle for their various antics. As a reader wrote in the comments, putting it better than I could “if the sun ever goes out, we’ll just use the twins instead”

Apparently tsunderes are eternal and through the ages. (I’m not kidding, I’ve seen British tsunderes in Modesty Blaise, so Turkish and Islamic tsundere do not surprise me in the
least)

The art is nothing if not sumptuous. Don’t believe me? Just Google it.

Manga like this reminds me of why I got into manga in the first place – engaging storylines, a chance to learn new things in a fun way, and wonderful art. I won’t read a series that I don’t like the art of, but any manga that can make me pause through flipping the pages to really take in the intricacy of the artwork is a good one in my book.

The series is not done yet, and I’m interested in seeing how all the plot arcs will finally be resolved, especially as some of them are intertwined with each other. To tide me over, I went back to check out some of the author’s other works – while I’m still not sufficiently interested in Emma to read it, I did pick up some Shirley Madison. Her maiden work, it has an earnest charm that makes it stand out among other slice of life series.

So there you have it. While I’m pretty certain that a Bride’s Story will not go down in history as an underappreciated classic, it’s nevertheless a fun read and in my opinion well worth your time. The subject matter may not appeal you no, but the next time you find yourself bored of the shonen treadmill of spiky hair and huge explosions, or have seen one too many dystopian futures filled with despairing androids, a well-researched and drawn historical manga might just fit the bill.

Queer manga is a thing. In fact, it’s not just a thing – the genre has exploded in popularity in recent years, and you can see several popular titles (including some I cover below) adorn the shelves of Barnes and Noble and/or your favorite local bookstore. Gone are the days of having to huddle around VHS tapes of Fake or find rare copies of Earthian – the rainbow agenda is out in full force.

I read a lot of LGBT manga – far many more titles than I can cover in one article. Maybe one day I’ll do more in-depth reviews of studies of some of them, but for now, these are just some titles that caught my attention during convalescence from a recent illness. Turns out that being sick in bed is a good thing to read queer manga, so my loss is your gain.

My Lesbian Experience with Loneliness

We’ll start out with some of the heavyweights. I will admit that I only picked this up because it’s original title is “Sabishisugite Rezu Fūzoku ni Ikimashita Repo, lit., “A Report on Being So Lonely That I Went to a Lesbian Brothel”” I admire any manga that has the balls (wrong turn of phrase, probably) to openly use the term “lesbian” in its title, especially since Japan has still not legalized same-sex marriage.

The manga is raw, stylized and does not pull any punches – at one point, the author talks about how she borrowed money from her mother to go to the titular lesbian brothel, and she also depicts her struggles with social media addiction and various illnesses with humor, panache and verve. Her highly stylized art style brings to mind Art Spielgelman’s Maus, and is a testament to how serious social issues can be depicted without having to be photorealistic in detail. The work can swing wildly from droll in one panel to slapstick in the next, which to my mind is part of its appeal.

Content-wise, despite the somewhat clickbaity title, it’s essentially an autobiographical manga about the artist’s life as a single lesbian in modern day Tokyo. It does go for the jugular at various parts, with pretty detailed examinations of female bodies and their attendant genitalia…but that’s exactly why I feel manga like this should exist. Manga is an artform, and what purpose does art serve if not to illuminate society and the human condition in general?

A work this unapologetic in its nature may not be for everyone, but I encourage mature readers to at least give it a once-over.

My Brother’s Husband

This is an Eisner-nominated work from Gengoro Tagume, who is better known for drawing bears (the gay human kind) in various forms of extreme sadomachocism. Nothing wrong with that, but even though the men in this manga definitely look the part, the subject matter is not like the author’s previous fare, instead being a heartwarming, gentle story of family relations and being openly gay in two very different countries.

The story is told in a plain, unvarnished way which showcases the power of manga to depict stories of all kinds – whether highly stylized works or in this instance, something simpler but no less poignant. While the world has made great strides in being accepting of LGBT+ individuals, the author asks questions of society through his characters which may not have easy answers, but need to be asked nonetheless.

I think what I like best about this manga is how well…normal it is. No giant warriors or spacefaring vessels to be found anywhere – just an ordinary Japanese man and his daughter who discoveres that his deceased brother’s husband is coming to visit. Through mundane affairs like grocery shopping and doing the laundry, we discover a very simple – and completely human – magic.

This work made me cry at the end, quite unexpectedly. With my own bent towards loquacity, I’m constantly reminded by quality works of art that sometimes, less is more and that
simple statements can be the most powerful.

For those who are interested, a live action movie was made of this manga.

Love Me For Who I Am (Fukakai na Boku no Subete wo)

While the title is not something to quibble too much over, I think it’s worth pointing out that it literally translates to “All of me who is not understood” This manga is somewhat of a rarity in having a non-binary AMAB person as the lead character, which I feel is definitely a step in the right direction. And it’s fun to read too 🙂

(Did I also mention everyone inside is really cute?)

Why this makes the list is that the manga doesn’t shy away from showing the very real and definitive problems one can have as a non-cis person…as well as the joy and comfort one can experience by being accepted and loved by those close to you. A wide variety of genders, orientations and sexualities can be found here – transwomen, lesbians, cross-dressers and gay men – all in some combination! All are depicted with charm and heart, without any hint of forced representation.

It’s the little things that sometimes matter, and nowhere is that more true than in this manga, whether it’s the lead’s boyfriend wondering if liking an AMAB person makes him gay, to the other gay youths taking an instant dislike to the lead’s lesbian friend…people are people, and queer folk do not automatically get along, whether in manga or real life.

Small touches like these, against the backdrop of more pressing issues like coming out and parental disapproval, make the work nuanced and varied enough to have commanded my attention.

The author also has a doujinshi featuring one of the minor characters (Suzu) for interested readers.

Asami-chan is Interested in Lesbian Brothels!

Okay, admit it – you read this because of the title, right? I sure did. I’m a sucker for any fictional work which proclaims its LGBTness right in the kisser…making it not one but TWO manga with lesbian brothels this article covers.

Unlike the above entry, this manga is more of a lighthearted romp which utilizes one of the oldest tropes in the book for its lead…meeting a former childhood friend. You may cue your groans now. Also unlike the above manga, this chooses to focus more on the dynamics between the characters and how they play out over the course of the lead’s romantic and sexual entanglements at – you guessed it – lesbian brothels.

It’s actually kind of silly if you stop to think about it (how many college students do you know who blow their paychecks on gacha and brothels?) so some suspension of disbelief is required ot enjoy it. I think I put it on this list because of how unabashedly YURI it is, even more so than genre classics like Maria Sama ga Miteiru.

Unfinished at the time of this writing. It’s also NSFW, but the sex scenes are draw well and tastefully IMHO.

What Did You Eat Yesterday?

Not a manga I would normally read, this is a very slow-paced slice of life manga about a gay lawyer and his hairdresser boyfriend. It deals with such mundanities such as doing the laundry, getting skim milk at a discount and watching your cholesterol at middle age. Not very exciting stuff now, is it? 🙂

The devil, as they would say, is in the details. This is not a manga you want to read if you’re looking for grip the edges of your chair in excitement. Nor is it a manga to read if you want to deal with hard-hitting societal issues or laugh out loud every minute. This is a manga to read if you’re looking for something relaxing, slow-paced and…obsessed with food.

Well, maybe obsessed is putting it a little too strongly. The manga delights in the minute details that go into preparation of food – from cutting, slicing, chopping vegetables and simple tasks like boiling water. It’s in these details of everyday life that you see how close the lovers truly are, and how there is a certain je ne sais quoi in the humdrum nature of daily existence. While I wouldn’t go so far as to say there is tons of wabi-sabi (the Japanese awareness centered on the acceptance of transience and imperfection) it does have a somewhat unique aesthetic of its own.

It’s a simple enough story that just shows normal people going about their lives – whether grocery shopping, having a hard day at work or kicking back with a few beers and a good TV show. Matters like still being closeted at work, parental acceptance and legal entanglements relating to being gay are treated matter-of-factly and without any fanfare, pomp or circumstance.

I typically like my romances and manga more dramatic, but it takes all types to make the world, and one thing I love about manga is the diversity of the artform. So if you’re looking for something a little more slow-paced, you may want to check this one out.

The author has doujinshi of this work for those of you who actually want to see the lovers consummate their relationship (the manga is SFW)

Our Dreams at Dusk

If the beautiful, highly stylized and detailed line art doesn’t draw you in, then the treatment of ostracizsm and suicide risk should. The story follows a gay teenager who is forcibly outed and meets other queer folx at a house which becomes sort of a home away from home to him. Like Love Me For Who I Am above, it deals with the entire spectrum of queerness – from homosexuality to crossdressing. Unlike the above though, it also has a prominent asexual character, which is something that I haven’t seen much of in media (that and demisexuality)

While the main character’s struggle to accept himself and others is poignant, I found the romance between one of the gay gentlemen in the story to be especially heartwarming. We don’t often see depictions of older queer folk, and this manga brings to light something I’ve experienced in my life often as well – that being born queer in a different time and era makes for a very different tale.

It’s easy to forget and take for granted that some of the civil liberties that some populations enjoy today (gay marriage being legal in most G1 nations, for instance) were born from much sacrifice and tragedy. While I enjoy the flush of first love, there is much to say about the slow burn of a lifetime relationship, and the older lovers in this work captured my attention in a way that few others have.

I feel that this is a good read in general – soft in some places, sparing no expense at drama in others. It’s realistic with a slight touch of magic in its dreamy air and evocative
artwork.

Following up from my post on LGBT manga, this one is special to me, so it gets its own article 🙂

Few people realize that within the vast queer world, there are also subdivisions within it. Any subculture will naturally develop its own language, terms, definitions and structures, many of which can be incomprehensible to those not from it. Lesbian, gay and bisexual are widely known – pansexual and demisexual less so, and there are other orientations whose validity is probably being debated as you read these words.

I’ve always been one to pair education with entertainment – in the sense that learning can (and should) be fun. So it is with gladness in my heart that I present to you Last Gender : When We Were Nameless, a manga about LGBT individuals gathering at a sex bar named Bar California. Works like these shed light on a world which though not in the mainstream, contains within it humanity, understanding and the search for acceptance.

A word of possibly needless warning before we begin – this manga is very much NSFW, since it has graphic depictions of consensual sexual activity.

The manga features an ensemble cast of characters who all search for different things as they go throughout their lives – some search for love, some acceptance. A young wife struggles to comprehend her husband’s infidelity. An aspiring teacher finds his narrow notions of the way the world works shattered upon happening an openly polyamorous triad. These characters and more make up the cast of Last Gender, bound together by the mysterious proprietor of the bar, Yo.

Some of the stories are self-contained, while other characters disappear and return throughout the manga’s pages. Some of them stood out to me in particular – Amiru, an aromatic college student who leads a fulfulling, generally happy life – just one devoid of any romantic attachments whatsoever. I particularly liked how she was potrayed as alternately hurt, bewildered yet unbowed by societal definitions. As she boldly proclaims “I’m the star of my own life, and everyone is the supporting cast” – which is a sentiment that could be potentially extended to everyone. She shows how its possible to simply lead a life of one’s own as who she is, without rebelling against or conforming to society.

Others are not so lucky. A gay couple’s love life ends in sudden tragedy, and the other partner is left to pick up the pieces of his life and their relationship. Whether we like it or not, we live in a society with its own rules and strictures, and his story showcases how someone in his position wavers behind anger, self-loathing and eventually coming to terms of some kind with what has happened. The honesty in which such difficult situations are shown (as with the gender identity crisis of another patron) is one of the things that truly drew me into the work.

I’ve been studying human sexuality for a good number of years now, and Last Gender brought to attention some orientations that I have never heard of, like lithromantic. (desiring romance, yet losing romantic inclinations when feelings are reciprocated) Another character is gray-asexual, which is something I’ve come across in real life but never in media.

Works like this which focus on sexual minorities in a realistic and sympathetic light, while not sugarcoating any of the difficulties they face, are few and far between – and to my mind, worthy of at least a look if not a read.

Essentially, this has everything I want in a manga (without LGBT or not) – beautiful people, hot sex, and cutting-edge societal commentary. The simple, unadorned artwork was an initial draw for me, but it was the delicacy and nuance with which the characters’ stories were told that kept me reading (and in some cases, re-reading) it. I hope you’ll give it a chance too.

Chapter 1

               Darkness. Always the darkness before him.

               It raged like a living thing, twisting, writhing, threatening to consume him. In this space beyond his mind there was no time or distance – only the sense of despair and dread.

               But still he fought on. Why, he couldn’t say for sure. There was something that demanded that he not give in, that he never give him. Small glimmers and whispers of hope amidst the yawning abyss.

               He struggled and screamed as the torrents of shadow flowed all around him. Against him, and into him. When he tried to open his mouth to shout his defiance, no sound emerged.

               As his consciousness ebbed and flowed he realized that he didn’t know his name. Didn’t know where he came from, or where he was going. Only knew that he had to keep living, keep fighting.

               Darkness unending…and then suddenly, sounds. A ringing in his ears that got up to look up, where light seemed to be blossoming somewhere. Looking up and out for a way out, a way that…

               “Wake up…wake up!”

               He opened his eyes, still groggy with sleep, brushing away the last remnants of the dream as he faced the morning sun. There was still the slightest haze of red behind his eyelids, and he squinted as he slowly came fully into wakefulness.

               Damn sun…he didn’t recall it being so bright. So bright it almost hurt his eyes. Still, it was a welcome change from the darkness that seemed to haunt his sleep. What day was it again…?

               “Stranger, you can’t sleep here anymore. We need this tent in the morning…we told you last night, remember? So you have to get your sorry ass somewhere – anywhere but here.”

               He did remember – vaguely – being told something like that. Blinking and letting out a yawn, he looked into the eyes of a young girl dressed in tattered rags who was looking peevishly at him.

               “Did you hear me? You have to…”

               “I got you the first time.” He managed to mumble. Who knew that a young girl could have eyes that were quite so fierce? “I’m up, I’m up.” He staggered to his feet, stretching and feeling his joints pop and crack into shape. Sleeping on the ground left a lot to be desired, but beggars can’t be choosers. “So, where does one go for water around here?”

               “Over there.” The girl jerked a thumb towards his left, where he saw a mass of people huddling around another tent. “Not sure if they have any left at this point…also, you gotta pay. We don’t give handouts.”

               “Didn’t think you did.” He took a look around the campsite, slowly bur surely remembering how he’d gotten here in the first place. Or rather, trying and failing to.

 He had been…running from something? Travelling somewhere? Only a few scattered memories emerged from the fog of sleep. He had been walking through the vast wasteland until exhaustion had gotten the best of him and he’d been fortunate enough to find this campsite…it didn’t have a bed, but a safe place to crash for the night beat sleeping out in the dunes.

He shook his head again. Was that all? There had to be more. But first things first. His throat was crying out for water, and he was going to need some form of sustenance as well. “Girl…what was your name again?”

“Patty.” The girl squinted at him, circling around him slowly and cautiously. “Are you sure you’re ok, mister?”

“I’m…well, I’m not dead, right?” He tried to quip. “I’m…” His words trailed off into nowhere when he realized that he couldn’t remember his name.

“You’re…?” prompted the girl. “If it’s all the same to you, mister, I have chores to do. I can’t stay here all day jabbering with you.”

“Just call me…D.” The letter floated into his consciousness from somewhere, and he decided to just go with it. “You go do whatever you have to, Patty. Thanks for checking in on me.”

“Alright, mister. So like I said, the tent is that way, and…” Patty paused in mid-sentence, cocking an ear to one side. Now it was his turn to look at her quizzically. What was she doing? There wasn’t…

But then he heard it too. A dull rumbling had sprung up, getting steadily louder and louder. Shrieks of fear could be heard springing up around the camp, and Patty tensed, her eyes darting from left to right in terrified alertness.

“Raiders…here? But the scouts said we were too far out…Mister, I’ve gotta get back to Mum and Dad. My sister has to…wait! Where are you going?”

He didn’t wait for her to finish what she was saying. His body was moving of its own accord – in the general direction of the rumble. Now he could see it approaching the camp – a series of dust clouds billowing up from the arid earth. From the size of the cloud and the sounds he was hearing he estimated thirty…maybe twenty of them.

Yeah, they were raiders heading here all right. He flexed an arm experimentally, pleased when he noted that there were no residual aches or pains. Time for him for him to earn his keep.

“Mister!” He barely registered Patty’s pleading cry. “What are you doing? You’ve got to get to safety! We’re gathering at the far end of the camp, you can come too –“

“I’ll be just fine, little missy. You go get yourself to safety.” He tossed aside the large scrap of cloth he had been using a makeshift blanket absently. Now he just had to see how many of them he could take out before they had any serious chance of hurting the nomads…

But then were on him before he could finish his calculations. With a chorus of whoops and yells, the raiders descended on the camp like a pack of hungry vultures. He could see that despite their ragged appearances, they were an organized bunch – they had fanned out in waves, obviously with the intention of corralling the camp’s inhabitants into groups. The fact that they hadn’t shot first and asked questions later gave him some cause for concern…such caution wasn’t unheard of from raiders, but it wasn’t at all common.

But there would be enough time to figure things out later. One of them was fast approaching him on a motorbike, laughing crazily as he raised a spiked club. That was where the clouds of dust and sounds came from, of course – the raiders’ conveyances. Most preferred bikes for their ease of use and utility value – the ones who were attacking the camp right now among them.

He waited until the last possible moment, standing stock still as the raider came closer and closer. The high pitch of crazed laughter merged with the cacophony of sounds all around him – the shrieks of the camp’s inhabitant as they ran for safety, and the low thunder as the raiders gunned their bikes as they continued their advance.

He let it all fade into one, and then let that one fade away. Second slowed down into second as the raider came ever closer. The bike skewed close to him, and then the club came down in a single sharp movement.

But he was faster.

His fist shot out into the raider’s midriff just as the weapon was about to strike. He was gratified to see the raider’s eye widen in surprise – just before he was flung from his bike and onto the ground several feet away. The bike went out of control, spinning away to crash into a nearby tent.

Alright, that was one down…many more to go. He clenched and unclenched his fist, feeling the muscles knot and tighten. It was gratifying to know that he was still in fighting shape even considering his lack of decent sleep and nutrition. He would have to see about getting some water to drink…after he was done here, of course.

The other raiders hadn’t seem to notice him taking down one of their number, preoccupied as they were with chasing down the nomads – probably to take as slaves, he was guessing. The amount of restraint they had displayed thus far was startling – no wanton destruction for the sake of it, no lit fires, and most worrisome – no wounded civilians as far as he could see. Their leader wanted everyone alive.

No time to analyze the situation. He broke into a run, heading for the tent that Patty had mentioned. Sure enough, the nomads were gathered there, trying their level best to fend off the raiders that had converged on their location. They were armed with a meagre array of knives, spears and whatever they had been able to cobble together on short notice…no firearms, he noted as he approached.

A spirited defense, but ultimately a futile one. The nomads were at best an untrained lot of civilians, and even the ones that had some modicum of combat experience were easily taken down by the vastly superior equipped raiders. A single strike from a chain whip or a few body blows and they crumbled to the ground, an unconscious heap. He winced sympathetically as he saw them fall one by one. Maybe the raiders weren’t out to kill – but they were certainly out to hurt.

Well, not if he could do anything about it. He increased his speed as he neared the tent, relying on the element of surprise. The raiders had barely enough time to notice his presence when he sprang into action. A flying kick downed one of the advance guard, and then with a blur  of motion, he took down two more before they had even registered what was happening.

When they did, it was too late for them. They converged on him in a whirl of chains, clubs and fists – but he was faster, moving from one foe to the next with deadly efficiency. He might be stronger and faster, but he was taking no chances. If they managed to gang up on him, there was always the chance that a stray strike could actually do some damage.

So he didn’t give them the chance. He moved like lightning, striking hard and fast. No sooner had he downed one with a series of punches and kicks before he had moved to the other, circling among all of them and always making sure to never leave his back unguarded. Unlike the raiders, he pulled no punches – uncaring of whether his opponents survived his blows or not, he heard bones snap and saw heads loll unnaturally to the side as he danced a dance of death through his foes.

In the space of a few minutes, the space around the tent had been cleared. The few raiders that had survived the battle were running away in fear, casting backwards glances at the unarmed man who had somehow managed to make short work of most of their number. Breathing heavily after his exertions, he tottered slightly to the side, looking around to make sure that all the civilians were safe.

Dammit, he shouldn’t be this tired so easily…he was getting sloppy. Either that or he really needed something to drink, fast. A few deep breaths and he managed to stagger back upright, smiling a bit at the awed looks of the nomads around him.

“Mister…are you ok?” It was Patty, of course. She was watching from the side, her eyes wide open in wonder and astonishment. “How did you…I mean…you fought them all off.”

“Not all of them.” He corrected her gently as he did another quick scan of the surroundings. Sure enough, the remaining raiders were massing for another attack, their bikes forming up into a large group. So they weren’t smart enough to attack in a circle – if they had done that, there was no guarantee he would have been able to fend them off and keep all the nomads safe. Thank the heavens for small mercies, he guessed.

“You all keep yourselves safe here. Carry your wounded. Get away. Let me take care of them.” He barked out instructions to the people around him, watching as they scurried to carry them out. He couldn’t afford to have anything preventing him from concentrating on the fight ahead.

And just in time too. As the crowd thinned, the raiders gunned their bikes into motion once again, their courage bolstered by their strength in numbers. He drew in a let out a deep breath. Concentrate…let it all fade away. Remember how he’d gotten here. Remember everything…

---- Shadows…shadows everywhere. Darkness rising. Screams. A child’s voice. The pain. Never-ending ----

               Not now. Now was not the time. He pushed away at the ever-present darkness, wrapped it up and stuffed it into a corner of his mind. It gave way to his mind’s insistent nudge, and he breathed an inner sigh of relief. No seizures. No relapses. For now, at least, he was still in control.

               The raiders swarmed towards him like a swarm of angry bees. Regaining some of their former vigor and bravado, they came rushing at him with whoops and hollers. Once again, he just let them, choosing instead to bide his time until the right moment.

               Closer…closer…then just as they were within striking distance, their formation began to split. It was a game of chicken that he was winning…any sane man would have broken into a run the moment he saw a gang of crazed bikers about to run him down. But this was a man who had taken out about eight of their number, and so a sense of caution had begun to dawn on the bikers…just as he had planned.

               Seizing his opportunity, he took the fight to them. Just as they began to slow, he struck. One moment he was standing there, arms held to his sides and palms apart – and the next, he was flying through the air, one leg bent in a kick that plowed clean through an unfortunate biker.

               That was just the beginning. He used the momentum from that maneuver to pivot seemingly in mid-air – the next biker to bear the brunt of his wrath had his mouth open in slack-jawed amazement before his feet caught him squarely in the feet, sending him flying off his bike as well.

               The element of surprise only lasted so long, though. He managed to down five in total before the bikers got their act together. Most of them decided to approach him on foot, seeing that their mounted status did not protect them in the least from his savage punches and kicks.

               The raiders came at him in waves – some hanging back in fear, others rushing forwards in a mad dash to avenge their fallen comrades. Their indecision worked in his favor – he moved in the same patterns that he had when fighting at the tent, making sure that he only ever had to face two or three at the same time. Fists and feet flew with as much accuracy and strength as he could muster, and he took down foe and foe as the fight raged on.

               But the lengthening battle was wearing on him. He hadn’t come into this fight fresh, and it was starting to show. His vision began to blur ever so slightly, and his limbs began to feel leaden. It had to happen eventually – a stray strike got past his defenses, and he winced in pain as a club (thankfully, not spiked) struck him in the shoulders.

               It all went downhill from there. The raiders gained their second wind the moment it happened – the man could be hurt! They surged forwards as one, and it took all his strength and skill to avoid being overwhelmed. But blow after blow got through his defenses – a crack across the head, a kick to the ribs, a jab that he didn’t block in time – and as the minutes passed he felt himself being pushed back.

               This wasn’t good. He spat out a little blood that had dribbled into his mouth from a cut in his forehead. If this kept up…well, they knew he was human now, even if he did somehow manage to break bones with his bare hands. All it would take would be one last push for the raiders and he would be in serious trouble.

               He looked around, assessing the situation. There was a lull in the combat that he knew wouldn’t last. He had been able to send one raider flying into another with his last kick while simultaneously avoiding another that had been rushing at him…then with a little fancy footwork, using him as a human shield to block another’s assault. That had given the raiders pause for thought again, and they hung back, advancing cautiously. He might bleed, but he was also faster and stronger than anything they had faced until this point.

               Let’s see now…his eyes scanned the crowd rapidly. He estimated eight…no, maybe nine or ten more of them. He could probably take them…probably. But at what cost? If they all had the gumption to attack as one, he would…

               No, this wasn’t the time to think through the situation. He closed his eyes, feeling into it. Feeling beyond it, to the force within him that was always there.

--- Shadows burning. The desire to win, to conquer. The pain – never-ending, but always changing…changing---

               He let out a sound that was halfway between a grunt and a snarl. He hated to admit it, but his body was always right. It was time to bring out the big guns.

               He let the darkness rush out from inside him, unfurl and uncoil into streams of energy that suffused his body. His breathing began to come in deep rasps, and he felt his muscles tense as he huddled down into himself, the energy building to a fever pitch. As the raiders came closer, he almost felt sorry for what he was going to do to them.

               Almost.

               With a roar, he let the energy fly free. Black lightning flashed from his fingertips, tearing through the raiders just as they decided to begin their advance once more. Each blast passed clean through each raider unlucky enough to be struck by it, causing them to stagger backwards and cough blood as they were rent from the inside out.

               He had only enough juice for a few uses of his abilities, but it was more than enough. The effects of the lightning were fearsome enough to send the remaining raiders running. It was one thing to try to take down a single man…but someone who could manipulate energy without a single augmentation? That was a fool’s errand, plain and simple. Dropping their weapons, they scrambled over each other in a mad rush to get away…

               Which was just as well, because he was well and truly spent. His breath now coming in ragged gasps, he sank to his knees in exhaustion. He never wanted to resort to his powers unless he absolutely had to. He was in control of the darkness, but the toll it took on him to wield it without it consuming him was one that he tried to avoid paying when he could. But for today, it had granted him a swift and decisive victory, and that was something he was thankful for.

               But now, he just needed to take some time to…rest. Just a few minutes was all he needed, at least until…the rest of his thoughts slipped away as he closed his eyes and drifted off against his will.

               “…D! Are you…D…hear me…!?”

               “…let him sleep. He deserves it.”

               “…aybe they will come back…?”

               Voices, all seeming to come from faraway. Where was he again? He was in a desert…no, he was in a town. He’d been in a fight, and…he had managed to save the day. He thought. It was hard to think with a pounding headache like the one he had.

               He struggled to sit upright with a groan, finding himself in a bed somewhere. Someone pressed a cup of water into his hand, and he took a grateful sip before settling down into bed again. It hurt too much to sit up, and he winced as he relaxed back into the bedclothes.

               “D…are you alright?” He knew that voice. He opened his eyes slowly and saw Patty standing at the foot of the bed, surrounded by concerned looking men and women.

               “I’m still alive, at least.” He quipped, trying not to show how much the use of his powers pained him. He always felt terrible after he had unleashed them, which is precisely why he tried not to whenever he could. But he would never had beaten the raiders without them.

               How much had they seen? he wondered. It would be difficult to explain what he’d done, but they had ran off when he’d told them to, so he was probably safe…he looked down to see Patty reaching out awkwardly to touch his hand in concern.

               “Mr. D…I’m sorry I was so rude to you earlier. You did it. You really saved us back there.” He couldn’t help but smile at her earnestness.

               “I just did what I had to.” He replied.

               “So you say, but not many people would have stuck out their neck for some strangers.” Said a mustached man from the side. “I don’t mind telling you that I didn’t think I’d live to see that again…people being decent to each other. You have my thanks, and that of everyone else here as well.”

               He just kept silent at the man’s words, unable to truly refute them. It was true…ever since the bombs had dropped, there was precious little decency and compassion left in the world. People were usually just too busy struggling to stay alive to worry about helping one another.

               But yet…life went on. People – like the ones around him – still struggled to survive, to fend for themselves and each other. Humanity was a social species, and they formed tribes and communities wherever they could. And then they had children…he looked at Patty again – how old was she? She couldn’t be more than eight or nine, which would mean she would have been born after the bombs…or before?

               He shut his eyes again, visions and thoughts dancing through them. He was getting the dates all wrong. He winced as another spike of pain lanced through his skull. Ok, he’d really overdid it back there…

               “Mr. D, are you alright? Do you need more rest?”

               “Probably.” He groaned as he let himself sink even deeper into the bed. He’d never imagined simple cotton could feel so good…

               “That’s a mighty fine suggestion, little lady.” Said another man, smiling at D’s reaction. “Let’s let our savior rest for a while before we ply him with more questions. I think he’s more than earned it.”

               It only took a day before he was back on his feet, but almost a week till he really felt like himself again. It turned out that the real strain on his body hadn’t been so much the use of his powers as the lack of water, food and sleep that he’d had to bear while travelling solo. Now that he had a place to rest, his strength returned in short order.

               The nomads were in no hurry to move to a new location now that D had put paid to the raiders which had attacked them. “I think you got all of them, sir.” The mustached man – who turned out to be the leader of the nomads and also Patty’s father – assured him that they would be safe for at least a month. “Even if you didn’t, there’s no way they would risk another attack after you banged them up that badly. Thanks once again.”

               “S’alright.” Was his only reply. “But now that I’m better, I think I should get out of bed and start helping you out. Man has to earn his keep and all that.”

               Despite their assertations that he’d done “more than enough already!” he tried helping out around the camp. There was always something that needed doing – either chores like laundry and cooking, or more involved work like repairs or moving storage units around, and so his help was always appreciated.

               During the evenings, he’d eat dinner with them around their campfire and listen to their stories, sharing some of his own when asked. At least the ones he could remember…he had the sense that he knew more – many more – but only a few bubbled to the top of his head amidst his scattered memories.

               And then during the long, cold nights that followed, he would look at the stars and try to remember. He knew the bombs had fallen, devastating the world and turning it into a shell of what it once was…but what about before? What about after? There was huge gaps in his memory, even though he knew how to speak, read and operate machinery. Where had he grown up? Was D really his name?

               It didn’t feel like it. It felt like it had been tacked on as an afterthought, just a placeholder for who he really was. But since he didn’t know who that might be, it served just as well for the moment.

               “So…you’re really leaving?” Patty had asked him as he’d strapped a pair of combat boots – a farewell gift from the nomads – to his feet and hoisted a knapsack onto his back.

               “Yeah. Can’t be relying on your hospitality for too long, y’know.” It had become almost a joke in the time he was with them – he would assist the nomads and say something about paying for his meals, and they would smile and insist he had done enough. But both of them knew the score – they wanted him here because he would keep them safe.

               The thing is, he didn’t know if he could. Firstly, there was the fact that none of them had actually seen him use his powers. He had no idea if his reception would that that welcome if they had…there were many strange things out here in the wastes, and his “gifts” might mean that he would qualify as one of them. And secondly…he knew that what he was searching for was out there somewhere.

               What was it? Even he didn’t know. Was it a place, or a person…? Or something else entirely? But the feelings gnawed at his chest and wouldn’t let him go.

               So the day had come to leave, and he had gotten up bright and early so as to avoid any awkward goodbyes…but then Patty had made a surprise appearance. He regarded the girl as she watched him solemnly.

               She was a good kid, he suddenly thought. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to stay here with them. If trouble came, he could handle it. There would be more campfire dinners under the stars, and maybe he could learn some of their songs, and…and it was a pipe dream and he knew it.

               “So long, kid.” He said, giving her a jaunty wave. “Was nice being here with you. Stay safe and don’t give your parents any trouble.”

               Patty’s lip trembled as she looked like she wanted to say something, but then she suddenly broke into a run and barreled into him, squeezing him as if her life depends on it. He relaxed into her small form, patting her on the head.

               “It’s ok. You’ll be safe. I…won’t see you again, but you’ll be safe.” He couldn’t bear to lie to her, and so he didn’t. She looked up at him a last time.

               “You too, D. Be safe.” She released him, and he finally turned away and began walking. As farewells in the wastes – where life was cheap and encounters brief - went, this was one of better ones for both of them.