Tasuku Kaname still feels awkward in his new school in a new town where he and his mother rent a house on a hill, but things go from awkward to his worst nightmare when his classmates start calling him a “homo” after catching him watching gay porn on his phone before class. Tasuku is minutes away from jumping to his death when a mysterious person seems to jump from a nearby house instead and that is enough to snap Tasuku out of the moment and leads him to a drop-in center, a place where people can talk about what they want to now.
Tasuku’s story of coming out as gay to himself isn’t like my own story of coming out to myself (frankly I’ve never seen one like mine) but I’m sure that many aspects of his and the other queer characters’ lives in this story will be familiar to many readers. From the way that Tasuku’s classmates toss the word “homo” around like it’s the hottest new trend to how the lesbian Haru is silently crushed when her parents see an image of two brides and remark, “It is nice but, I feel bad for their parents,” there’s a pervasive sense of quiet desperation when it feels like you’re in a world populated only by yourself. Lines like, “Whoever says it’s discrimination is the one who is discriminating” and “My parents are old school. They’re in this place where they just don’t get what’s discrimination” are sure to hit home for many readers in a way that few other manga achieve.
Manga-ka Yuhki Kamatani, best known in the US for their first work the modern-day ninja manga/anime Nabari no Ou, is a member of the LGTBQ+ community themself. They identify as both asexual and x-gender (their pronouns are they/them), which is clearly part of the reason why Our Dreams At Dusk: Shimanami Tasogare feels grippingly real. It’s immediately obvious what a huge difference it makes to have a story about a minority written by a member of the minority, even if none of the characters introduced so far have identified as either ace or x-gender. Kamatani has approached Tasuku, Haru, and Haru’s wife Saki’s stories all quite differently, with regards to what they want in the world and how far they are willing to go in an environment which is always twinged with hostile intentions, and the level of nuance given to these stories feels as refreshing as the breeze Someone-san seems to walk on.
Speaking of Someone-san, I’m aware of how awkward it is to describe a potentially queer character in a queer story as “inhuman” but Someone truly feels more like a force of nature or a whimsical spirit more than a grounded person at this point and that is very deliberate characterization. Someone, who’s name, history, and occupation are all unknown to characters who’ve known her for years, flits in and out of the drop-in center she helped finance, impetuously tells Tasuku several times that Tasuku can vent to her for ten minutes (although she also says she will not listen or give advice), and seems to go on walks in the clouds like a tengu, is certainly a mysterious character in an otherwise grounded story.
While the story is largely grounded, Kamatani is unafraid to use more surreal sequences to explore the overwhelming emotions Tasuku is going through and to good effect. Words aren’t needed to show that Tasuku has a deep crush on one of the other members of the table tennis team or the extreme effort he puts himself through to get through the last few days before summer break without breaking down, the imagery does all the talking for me. It makes all of Tasuku’s emotions and outbursts feel deeply personal and relatable, even if you’ve never been a gay, teen aged boy.
Fans who enjoyed Seven Seas’ previous LGBTQ+ books, including My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness, Our Dreams At Dusk: Shimanami Tasogare is a must-read as it tackles the feelings of living, surviving, and thriving as a queer person in an indifferent world.