“There’s a beautiful boy on my lap. Ever since then, every moment I’m breathing, he’s all I end up thinking about.”
Thirty-year-old Satoko’s opening remarks about 12-year-old Mashuu — combined with the author’s notes about how this series may be classified as “onee-shota” — will no doubt raise red flags for readers. At the minimum, readers will argue about whether it should be Bunny Drop first half or second half.
Well, the latter is a strong possibility, but My Boy so far is first half Bunny Drop-level emotion.
But rather than Bunny Drop, My Boy is basically the TV show What Would You Do? What would you do if your ex-boyfriend — now coworker — keeps asking you out for drinks? What would you do if you saw a girl practicing soccer early in the morning and late at night with no improvement or adult supervision? What would you do when you realize the skinny girl is a gaunt boy — one who wears the same clothes for multiple days?
For many people, the answers would be simple:
- Reject him.
- Call out.
- Call child protective services.
However, it’s really not that easy. Satoko and her coworker Shiikawa didn’t have a messy break up, and that was years ago. Calling out to Mashuu could backfire on the well-intentioned Satoko. Mashuu’s homelife doesn’t appear happy and healthy, but even if social services were called, the fact Mashuu still goes to school and participates in soccer could be seen as not rising to the level of neglect, let alone abuse. Life is full of grey areas, and the manga does a wonderful job of showing them — or at least having “should-I-or-shouldn’t-I” moments weigh on Satoko’s mind.
Speaking of Satoko, while the cover makes her look like a cool beauty, she’s much more down-to-earth. She could be any of us: trying to figure out how much to interfere in someone else’s life, wanting someone to praise her, and continuing pointless habits. Even her calling out to Mashuu is due to a combination of alcohol and general frustration. She’s honestly one of the best new heroines I’m met in a while. Like Mashuu, her backstory doesn’t seem to rise to the level of tragic or heart-wrenching, but the manga is actually stronger because it’s full of those personal grey areas.
Most of the manga follows Satoko’s point-of-view, only providing some subtle visual clues as to what Mashuu and Shiikawa are actually thinking. The weakest part of this opening volume is a chapter focusing on Mashuu’s female classmate. Firstly, Satoko is just such a fabulous main character that I hated her stepping aside. I can understand why the author wanted to show Mashuu’s life at school objectively, but there are two mysterious guys the author needs to explore. Obviously, all readers want to know about what is up with Mashuu’s home life, but why does Shiikawa seem to be yanking Satoko’s chain? To keep all his options open? Revenge? Both are mysteries that guarantee I’ll be continuing the series, but sixth grader Nao’s views on “normal” are just less moving. It’s not enough to ruin this first volume, but everything else was just so tight-knit.
If the story wasn’t enough, the art is also beautiful. Satoko’s appearance is very similar to Akira from After the Rain, and it’s very easy to understand why people mistake Mashuu for a boy. I do think it would have been nice to see what an average, healthy boy his age would look like. He also doesn’t look too grungy, but it could be he’s clean enough that he doesn’t raise any flags. I love the layouts as well, not overdoing the close-ups or distance shots to give away the characters’ true emotions. A few cultural references are footnoted, but most just come down to the generation gap.
I was a little apprehensive about My Boy, but this opening volume is a fantastic entrance into the lives of Satoko and Mashuu: poignant, emotional, relatable. With plenty of story yet to reveal, I can see My Boy being “all I end up thinking about”.