This month’s column looks at two new series—St. Dragon Girl, a tween-friendly title about a spunky kenpo master, and We Were There, a coming-of-age story about teens coping with loss—as well as the latest volume of staff favorite High School Debut.

High School Debut, Vol. 6

By Kazune Kawahara
Viz, 210 pp.
Rating: Teen

Not long after Haruna first met Yoh, she heard about the “beads incident.” Back in Junior High, Yoh was on the basketball team and was dating the team manager, Makoto. She had a fondness for wearing beads, and one day he accidentally hurt her feelings by saying that he didn’t particularly care for them. She turned on the waterworks and managed to get Yoh’s teammates to turn against him. Now Makoto is back, and has been calling Yoh in hopes of seeing him again.

It’s one of the strengths of this series that Yoh’s perspective is not neglected. Getting to see his reaction to being contacted by his ex-girlfriend elevates this from a mere “romantic rival” plot to something a lot more meaningful, more melancholy than melodrama. He firmly tells her to leave him alone, and unequivocally lets Haruna know that she’s the one he wants to be with. It’s Haruna who eventually convinces him to see Makoto and he comes away from the experience at peace with his past.

Haruna, who has been prone to spazzery up until this point, is pretty awesome in this volume, too. It’s kind of rare for me to like both members of a couple as much as I do Haruna and Yoh. Their interactions and discoveries in this volume contribute to make it the best of the series since they got together. The last three pages were especially terrific; I might even have shed a tear.

Volume six of High School Debut is available now.

–Reviewed by Michelle Smith

St. Dragon Girl, Vol. 1

By Natsumi Matsumoto
Viz, 192 pp.
Rating: Teen

Is it possible for a heroine to be spunky AND dull at the same time? If so, Momoka Sendou, the high-kicking dragon girl of the title, fits that description perfectly. Momoka has two hobbies: kenpo (a catch-all Japanese term for Chinese martial arts) and collecting stuffed panda bears. She also has a crush on Ryuga Kou, a cute young sorcerer who’s been her friend and de facto bodyguard since they were tots. Early in volume one, Ryuga summons a dragon spirit to help him defeat the local serpent king. But the spell goes awry, transferring the dragon’s spiritual energy to Momoka instead. Though Momoka now has an astonishing variety of powers at her disposal, she seems utterly unchanged by the experience, fretting more about cute boys and cute bears than the implications of harboring a dragon.

All of the stories are self-contained, and follow the same basic template: a girl gets in the soup, requiring Momoka and Ryuga to come to her aid and defeat a magically enhanced foe. Though Momoka acquits herself decently, Ryuga always has the last word, stepping in to save her, show her how to activate her dragon powers, or rescue one of her beloved bears. There’s very little tension in any of these stories, as Momoka conveniently discovers a new power every time she faces a crisis.

The artwork is cute and serviceable, if a bit cluttered. Matsumoto’s character designs are vaguely reminiscent of Arina Tanemura’s, as Momoka and Ryuga both sport huge, sparkly saucer eyes that would dwarf a squid’s. Most of the dragon images look like they’ve been traced off a dim sum parlor placemat, meshing poorly with the other visual elements of the story. It’s never entirely clear what the dragon does—besides appear on the scene at critical moments, that is.

That said, I recognize that St. Dragon Girl is aimed squarely at eight to ten-year-old girls, not thirty-something women. Older readers won’t find much here to engage their interest, as the story and characters are strictly by-the-numbers. Tweens, on the other hand, may find that St. Dragon Girl offers just the right amount of fantasy, romance, and grrrrl power to satisfy their hunger for adventure stories with happy endings.

Volume one of St. Dragon Girl is available now.

–Reviewed by Katherine Dacey

We Were There, Vol. 1

By Yuki Obata
Viz, 200 pp.
Rating: Older Teen

Nanami Takahashi has just started high school and is eager to make friends. As she attempts to make conversation with some girls in her class, she finds that their favorite topic of discussion is a carefree-looking boy named Motoharu Yano. Yano is very popular, though more because of sheer presence than good looks. As Nanami puts it later, he’s the “kind of guy everyone follows out to the field to play ball, but once he leaves, everyone stops playing because it’s not fun anymore.”

Initially, Nanami’s irritated by Yano’s seemingly irresponsible ways, but he listens to her when she needs a sympathetic ear, and she soon realizes that she’s got a crush on him. The class is abuzz with rumors about Yano’s last girlfriend, who died the summer before in a car accident, and Nanami is understandably confused by Yano’s resolutely cheerful demeanor in the face of such tragedy. Little by little, friendship grows between them, and he eventually confides in her his bitterness that his girlfriend was killed while seeing another boy behind his back.

We Were There is pretty mellow in its storytelling. There are no melodramatic moments, no crazy facial expressions, no gags, and no super-deformity. Instead, it’s a quiet tale of a slightly strange and funny girl attempting to understand the contradictions presented by the boy who might be hiding feelings of grief behind a sunny smile. In addition to the mystery of what really happened in the past, the story in the present is compelling, too, even though it’s another entry in the “kind-hearted heroine is the only one who can help our hero through his angst” category.

The characters are likable, and even some of the supporting characters are pretty interesting, like grouchy, bespectacled Yamamoto. I particularly like the way Nanami’s awkward attempts to fit in with her new friends are depicted. At first, things are palpably stiff between them—exemplified in a conversation in which the other girls are blathering on about Yano while Nanami attempts to interject comments about classes—but as time wears on, they become more relaxed in each other’s company. Nothing is overtly said to chart the progress of the relationship; the visuals simply tell the story.

For the most part, the art is light and pleasant, though Obata seems to have attended the Aya Nakahara School for Overly Large Ears and Hands. Also, I’m not fond of the really shiny eyes she draws. Although emotion is competently conveyed using body language and the rest of the face, the lack of pupils is still pretty disconcerting. Yano, particularly, often looks like his eyes are blank and soulless.

Overall, We Were There is a very satisfying read. When it was over, I wanted more.

Volume one of We Were There is available now.

–Reviewed by Michelle Smith