Yukiyo Fujimoto has never had luck with the ladies, but the fact that he’s about to turn 30 isn’t making his lack of a love life that much easier. Fujimoto is convinced he’ll be alone forever. That is, until one day a message from an old coworker appears, then a call from an old friend, then a high school run-in… suddenly he finds himself in the middle of his “season of popularity” — his moteki. But can several blasts from the past finally give him the love he’s been looking for?
Well, Fujimoto is, for lack of a better term, a character, and arguably one that is really, really hard to like until about two-thirds of the way through Moteki. In some ways it’s because he’s terribly familiar: his expectations of women are way over the top, all while he simultaneously seems to dislike them (and/or is terrified of them, and/or is extremely bitter), topped off with a good dash of self-loathing. Fujimoto has been genuinely hurt by the standard romantic mishaps in life — being the rebound guy, being rejected by a friend, as well as body issues. But instead of dealing with the hurt and his own eroded self confidence over the years, he gets locked in his own head, so he’s critical of both himself and others, and at least minorly (if not majorly) obsessive about what he lacks — i.e a girlfriend, regular sex, and love.
When his moteki comes swinging though it comes swinging, and Fujimoto deals with no less than four women in this first omnibus. The women are vastly more interesting than him, both in how they deal with sex/romance and their emotional lives in general, but each does at least help him grow in some regard, as far as him learning how to treat women as actual people and not as a just means for sex — though he’s got a long way to go. Thankfully, the women feel mostly fleshed out with various backstories and I wonder if the author, Mitsurou Kubo, took experiences from her own life. Of particular note is Itsuka, a former drinking (platonic) buddy of Fujimoto who struggles with her own romantic mishaps and navigating her femininity as “one of the boys.” Their friendship is the one that sees arguably the most change throughout the volume, and also is the one that seems to have the most potential for romance.
Still, Fujimoto fumbles again, again, and again (and occasionally those fumbles just consist of him being a jerk), frustrating the reader, mostly because it’s obvious to us that his problems extend far further than the lack of a girlfriend. I imagine his entanglements with these various women throughout the series will eventually have him come to realize that — and that does make this series compelling. Everyone feels real to some extent, even if that means they’re horrible. Some of that real feeling comes from Kubo’s art; it’s great, in non-technical terms. Characters look distinct (even in body language), and she captures faces and emotions exceptionally well. Particular scenes and emotional reactions are memorable simply because of how she blocks or angles panels, and the art feels well thought out.
Moteki is a tough one, mostly because of Fujimoto. He’s terrible in the beginning — not irredeemable, but definitely terrible. But, well, I can’t put it down, quite frankly because the characters are wrapped up in familiar adult dramas that, despite the lead — or maybe because of him — make me want to know what happens to them all. I ultimately want to see if they grow, change, and find self-acceptance, so I’m interested to see how volume 2 plays out.