I got a kindhearted woman, do anything this world for me, and welcome to my read-through of Bakuman Chapter 149: Characteristic and Subject in which I am very happy and very satisfied and all is right with the world.
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Characteristic and Subject Summary
Research and Persistence
At the dining room table, Kaya asks about the Takagi holiday plans: are they skipping Christmas and New Years again?
Shujin assures her that they will have a cake and traditional New Year’s food. She points out that he’s still planning to work the whole way through, so there will be no break.
Shujin explains that he’ll take a break once the stand-alone chapter is ready for Issue 10 for Nanamine. Shujin does the math: the deadline will be January 23rd. The faster he finishes, the sooner Saiko will work on it. He’s hopeful about getting it done on January 4th or 7th, as he’ll have more time to work on it at that point.
Kaya freaks at him: he’s really going to use their two-week break to work! Shujin apologizes, but yeah, that’s what’s happenin’.
Sorry sug.
Kaya asks why he’s rereading the first volume of PCP. He’s looking for ideas for foreshadowing. When asked, he explains about stand-alone that doesn’t stand alone and how he’s searching for ideas that will make people want to catch up with the series. It’s a trick that Taro used. Kaya’s bemused by the idea.
Kaya wonders how they’ll pull it off since it’s all about “perfect” crimes, which means they must be perfect, right? Shujin thinks it’s an excellent idea since once a mystery is solved, it’s no fun to read it again.
Shujin has an epiphany about committing a perfect crime ONCE AGAIN. He scribbles in his notebook.
Meanwhile, at Azuma’s apartment, Hattori continues pestering Azuma to make another try at a series. He’s adorably persistent in pushing Azuma to do the work. He brings over some treats as leverage.
Azuma tells him he doesn’t have the ability or will to continue, but Hattori won’t have any of that; he’s got skills. Hattori will help him where he’s deficient and get his motivation back up. Hattori then asks if Azuma retained Nanamine’s storyboards. Azuma does and gives them to Hattori for review.
Hattori’s suspicions are confirmed: Azuma’s final drafts are better than the storyboards!
Azuma and I are befuddled by that one: it’d be pointless if they were worse. Hattori means something a little different: his work shows off the hard-won skills he’s cultivated over the years from a long career in manga. He points out the difference with the final draft in jump: Azuma’s expressions are phenomenal.
The bittersweetness of Momoko’s look is not in the storyboard at all. It’s intuition and skill choosing the proper emotions to convey from the storyboard.
Good Guy Hattori.
Hattori continues glazing him: he could tell Azuma was kind from the way he talked about Taro and Saiko; only someone with a heart could draw something like this. It’s a polished piece that only someone with life experience can pull off. That’s his weapon; a skill no rookie could muster. He should try it: his art alone is full of character. It would be something even better than Panty Flash Fight!
Azuma agrees to it. He thinks it’s fate that he met Hattori.
Nanamine’s Bargain
At Shinjitsu, Kosugi—excuse me, opinion 221—is given the latest revisions for the one-shot. Kosugi reviews while Nanamine plays darts. Kosugi thinks it’s well done, but something’s missing: a shonen feeling.
Nanamine rejects the opinion of 221.
Nanamine came up with it all himself, and then the staff drew it out. The monitors gave it a 9.1. After his revisions, it received a 9.3. That’s proof positive that it is as good as it gets. He will not have it ruined by Kosugi’s dirty opinions.
Kosugi explains that that’s why he wants to push it further, to break it past its already great limits.
Nanamine requests that he keep his hands off: it’ll get first as is. The serialization is being held in the same month that the one-shot is released. With that in mind, it’d be best if the one-shot were completed as quickly as possible so he can concentrate on the whole series.
Kosugi reminds him of the deal that was struck and the harsh conditions that were imposed. It is no time to think of a series. Nanamine isn’t having none of that: He said he’ll get first place, so he will. Magical logic there, buddy.
Does Kosugi doubt his greatness?
Kosugi himself is impressed with the storyboard and thinks it will look amazing when done, but he still wants to help make it better, even if it’s just a little bit more.
Before Kosugi can speak, Nanamine offers him a deal: he’s sure this one-shot will take first; if it ends up second or third, though? He’ll own up to his mistakes and listen to Kosugi’s advice when he starts a new series, and then if that chapter makes first, he’ll admit that he has a good editor.
At that point, he’ll have a minimum of ten weeks anyway, so it’s fine to let Kosugi do something then. If Kosugi screws up, there will be plenty of time to course-correct. But that’s ONLY if he makes second or third. If he makes first, he’ll have no obligations to his editor.
How fucking gracious.
Kosugi wants to interject, but Nanamine goes further: He’ll prove his method is correct; how would Kosugi make up for it if he lost his opportunity with his opinions?
Kosugi backs down and lets him do what he’s got to do. He wishes him good luck with the final draft. Nanamine is thrilled he won’t have to waste time on Kosugi anymore.
Team Fukuda Gearing Up
At Eiji Co., Ltd., Miura wants Eiji to give +Natural everything he’s got so they can get in the top three and beat Nanamine. Eiji—thankfully annoyed—points out that Miura was simply happy to have gotten in single digits again. Miura’s glad and surprised it was getting 16th not too long ago. All the way back up to 9th. Woohoo.
What a tool.
Miura continues his pep talk: just do what you gotta do, Eiji and Team Fukuda will take care of the rest.
Eiji is already doing that, and it’s not gotten above 9th. Getting it that high isn’t going to happen by magic. The best he can do is fifth. Probably. Miura wonders why he’s so calm about it, but he resigns himself to setting the matter there.
Good ol’ Miura.
Fukuda, meanwhile, is pounding the pavement (metaphorically) as he assumes everyone else in Team Fukuda is going balls to the wall to beat Nanamine. Yujiro confirms that everyone except Hiramaru is going hard.
Takahama is in court, taking notes.
Counting Down to New Years
On December 24th, Miho receives a comically short text from Saiko wishing her a Merry Christmas. On December 30th, Saiko gets the storyboards, and it’s fantastic: all the perfect crimes they’ve been doing have been leading up to a big one they’ve been planning to do before they graduate. Sigma has seen through the whole thing! The Members of PCP even admit it!
He would wanna read it all over again to see what happens next. However, Saiko wonders if he can really come up with a mega crime like that. Shujin probably can’t do them all, but he can come up with something close enough.
Saiko approves the board: it’s good to go. They’ll take Nanamine down with this! The storyboard will be ready by tomorrow.
On December 31st, the two apologize for having Hattori come over on New Year’s Eve. Hattori is fine; he can’t talk to both of them on the phone. Besides, he wants to hear about their special tactic. Hattori reviews the stand-alone that doesn’t stand alone.
Hattori is thrilled by the chapter, but he warns them to be careful with it: this type of story can’t be used too many times in a detective manga like PCP.
On January 1st, Saiko sends an equally curt Happy New Year text to Miho, who finds it delightful that he’s working so hard.
Everyone works hard as the new year reigns in, even Hiramaru.
The only exception is Shinjitsu Corporation, which wishes everyone a happy new year and is empty.
Approvals and Release
On January 17th, Yamahisa approves Aoki’s chapter. Aoki wants to know if it will be enough to beat Nanamine. Yamahisa’s honest: stories like God Given don’t usually go higher than 5th in Jump. Nanamine’s got a shot at the top three. The other members of Team Fukuda will have to take the others’ spots.
Aoki thanks Yamahisa for his candor and dials Hiramaru.
Aoki promises to call Hiramaru Kazutan if he beats Nanamine. Hiramaru is so thrilled at the notion that he cracks his back.
On January 20th, Kosugi thinks Nanamine has a chance of getting into the top 3. Nanamine thinks it’s a done deal. Kosugi takes it back and thanks him for the hard work. Nanamine asks to only be told about he final results.
On January 23rd, Hattori gives the all-steam-ahead: it’s perfect. Yujiro thinks Fukuda might get first place with his chapter. Miura thinks Takahama is doing the best work he’s ever done.
On Monday, February 6th, The Beauty and the Billions is released. Miura thinks the one-shot is good no matter how many times he reads it.
Third Place Goes to…
On Friday, February 10th, Kosugi arrives with the final report. Nanamine wonders why he wasn’t called, even though he knows he got it first. He wonders if Kosugi is there to beg.
Kosugi hopes to continue working with Nanamine, much to Nanamine’s satisfaction.
At the studio, the boys receive the placements: PCP Got second place (hot damn); Mikata’s Justice got First (hoo yeah) and in third place…
Mikihiko Azuma with Hirapara Paradise with 219 votes.
FUCK YEAH. Get fucked Nanamine
Nanamine freaks out: he wasn’t informed about Azuma or another one-shot. It was an emergency substitution since Hiramaru injured his back.
Thank you, Hiramaru, for your silly service in beating Nanamine.
Kosugi is shocked that Nanamine didn’t even bother to read the manga he placed in. Of course he didn’t. He only read his own work (Jesus) to see if he made any mistakes. He’s been working on storyboards for his series.
Kosugi needles him: doesn’t he have monitors giving notes on every issue? That’s meaningless next to the real survey.
Nanamine freaks at the realization he lost to even Azuma.
Nanamine reads the manga, the poster for PCP blaring in the background: he lost to Ashirogi AND AZUMA. What a joke. It has to be. It’s impossible otherwise. Was it his storyboard? It can’t be; they gave him a 9.3.
Kosugi explains that it wasn’t the storyboard; it was good. Rather, it was his approach. As Kosugi said, it was missing the essence of a shonen story. Greed and HUman nature don’t leave you with a good feeling afterward. Those who read shonen manga want something uplifting, exhilarating. The monitors chosen aren’t even fans of Jump themselves. None of them buy the magazine to read on their own, right?
More than that, his employees wrote a story based on his interests and preferences. They said things like Classroom of Truth and What You Need and went in that direction.
That said, the storyboard was very well done. He thought it would definitely get first place or the top three. He apologizes.
Nanamine agrees that it was well done. Kosugi provides the killing blow: it was missing the one thing a shining story can’t do without: the heart of the characters.
You can’t express their feeling without sympathizing with others.
Nanamine chucks his book in horror. Kosugi rubs in his loss to Azuma. Who knew someone like Nanamine would be stabbed in the back? (lol).
The boys cheer at the news that Azuma got third. They credit Taro and Azuma with beating Nanamine this time.
Hattori calls and tells Azuma the news. Azuma takes the news somberly: He never would have done this if not for Hattori. He can now retire without regret. Hattori thinks he has to stop that thinking—he’s only getting started!
Azuma disagrees: he put everything into that one-shot, and there’s nothing more he can give.
He can now visit Taro’s grave with his head held high.
On that touching note, the chapter and arc conclude.
Characteristic and Subject
Well Done
Not gonna lie, I’m getting a little teary again from reviewing this chapter. That final moment with Azuma is picture perfect, and while I still think my favorite arc is still the battle between Iwase and Shujin, this might be my second favorite.
What a triumph.
And it’s not just a triumph because of the group effort that went into taking Nanamine down for good, definitively, but also because everything else was just working.
I know it can seem kind of repetitive. Still, I know for a fact that the writers save their best moments for the resolution to the arc, so to some degree, it is designed to have this emotional catharsis where every single beat works, every single beat sings. Still, there have been plenty of arcs that went over like a wet fart – the hospital arc and Shiratori’s arc come to mind – so it’s not a guarantee that even if the best effort is put forward it will succeed.
But in this case, thank god, the gamble of stuffing this arc full of callbacks and teaching us about the stand-alones that don’t stand alone really, really, really worked.
And let’s start with the saving grace and the unexpected MVP of this arc: Azuma.
Hard Work, Friendship, And Victory
Although it’s clear that the threat of Hattori being removed as their editor is no longer a thing, at least not for now, I might have been okay with it if only because we’d get more of the Good Guy Hattori vibes that Hattori throws down so casually as if it were nothing.
It’s easy to acknowledge that Hattori is generally a good editor and is often praised as such, especially compared to the other editors in Jump, like Miura (more on that in a moment), Yoshida, and Yamahisa.
But I think this chapter and this arc really highlight that Hattori is also just a good person who masquerades as a good editor. There is something painfully beautiful about someone believing in you so much that they get you to put your best effort forward, even when you have zero faith in yourself.
I….haven’t really had much experience with it. That’s not a self-pitying thing (well, it kinda is), but it’s more a statement that people’s support for me has usually been less active and more ex post facto. And that’s okay, it’s a lot to expect someone to push you to be the best version of yourself creatively for no real reason. I’ve usually created despite what people think of me. And sometimes purely to spite a perceived lack of faith.
The only time I’ve started to experience the inverse is on the film I’m currently working on. It’s challenging, yes, but we’re all in it together, and we’re each pushing each other to make it better.
Also, crowdfunding is live.
Personal shill is over with, moving on.
All that in mind, it made Hattori’s advocacy for Azuma, the old, tired, grieving mangaka, that much more potent. He sees something in this guy who has been so thoroughly abused by the system, who has been told – and not entirely inaccurately – that his work is not up to snuff, and now he’s too old to live that dream that Taro embodied so much. For Hattori to just, like, genuinely believe in Azuma was really moving.
Which also sells that climax so much more than otherwise. Because I think if we didn’t have all that buildup – and Hattori’s faith – it would be pretty cheap to have Azuma strike the fatal blow against Nanamine.
And that manifests most clearly in the reason why old people aren’t fucking useless
Skill is Developed Over Time
I am a much better writer, singer, screenwriter, and artist than I have ever been. I’m not to the level I want, nor the level where I think other people are going to fuck with me just yet, but I am good. And I’m getting better.
That is the result of decades of work on my craft, at least for writing. For music, it’s closer to years because I’ve only recently started seriously songwriting and making music.
But the more you work on stuff, the better you get. And the sequence where Hattori points out Azuma’s intuitive understanding of expressions and character design speaks volumes to that truism.
Azuma knows how to draw cute girls. It’s been his entire career, and he’s been interested in storyboards for a long time. So when Hattori points out that Azuma’s understanding of how his heroine’s expression should look, down to the deep subtleties of her pout, is a cut above the rest, it highlights those skills. This refinement only comes with years of experience.
This is, again, tangentially, why I get so annoyed with Saiko and Miho. While I understand that they are in a relationship and kind of building memories, it’s equally frustrating that they’re not getting to know each other’s personality quirks in real life. They’re not going on adventures and refining their romantic sensibilities, becoming accustomed to the person, not the ideal. They know a lot about each other but don’t have that real experience.
And that’s made even more apparent by the hilariously adorable ploy Aoki drops on Hiramaru that unexpectedly leads to Azuma’s victory: she knows just how badly he wants to be called Kazutan and uses all of her powers of adorableness and charm to get what she wants. And knowing exactly which lever to pull to make Hiramaru work, in this case, not Yoshida’s manipulation, is the product of being in a relationship.
But I’m digressing. You can be a talented rookie—the most talented rookie ever—but there are some things that truly only come with experience and living. And Azuma embodies that.
It also provides a stark contrast to:
Kosugi and Nanamine’s relationship
I want to devote more time to Nanamine a little down the way, but this is one of those thematic parallels that works so goddamn well it bears mentioning.
One of the consistent themes of this chapter is one we’ve obliquely touched on: hard work and working on something not until it’s good, but until it’s so good it’s undeniable.
Part of me sometimes wishes I had devoted more time to this blog’s structure, language, and style so it could well…good. While I have cultivated an intentionally conversational—bloggy—writing style that is not a little in debt to Leigh Butler’s Wheel of Time reportage, part of me wishes I had treated this like a more refined writing project.
However, I have a deadline, and I’m working on other creative things that I do put that energy and refinement into. This is largely just for my own enjoyment, so I make some sacrifices to its quality and prose.
But I’ve increasingly been on the side of something Kosugi offered up this chapter: even though it’s good, make it better. It could always be just the littlest bit better. Even if it’s just a micron of difference, that micron could push it over the edge. It’s usually those small things that make big differences.
But Nanamine is content to rest on his laurels, even though he has done nothing to earn those laurels yet, other than good reviews. As I mentioned at he beginning of this read-through, some arc climaxes don’t work as well as they could for one reason or another, and if the writers had structured them differently, or did something, even a little something to change them, they might have been better
I don’t think that’s entirely true since those arcs had existential issues in design and philosophy. But I digress.
But we’re shown how hard Saiko, Shujin, and the rest of Team Fukuda work to take Nanamine out. They skip their breaks, and they don’t text their loved ones. They go to court to get more information and generally devote themselves to making the best possible product.
Meanwhile Shinjitsu doesn’t even go into the office over the holidays, so confident are they that hey are going to win.
And this is not an endorsement of the specific work culture that brought this philosophy about – I find Japanese work culture problematic at best – but the spirit of what is being said is worth reiterating.
Putting in the effort is what will make you have the best chance of victory.
And Kosugi knows that, on a deep level, even though he’s a rookie and doesn’t know why. Well, based on the ending, he does know the why, but he has a good editor inside him, and it’s begging to be let out. If he’s given a legitimate chance, I think he’ll be a good one in time.
But seeing that effort – and not just in making the manga but also engaging with other manga, knowing what your competition is doing, and adjusting your strategy to account for it – that is all the work of making art that goes undiscussed and is often relatively unglamorous, but so essential to the creative process.
Same with making a film. There’s a lot of unsexy, laborious and difficult work that has to be done to ensure success. Cold calls, logistics, budgeting, fundraising. It’s all a challenge. But it’s done because I want to make a good movie.
Donate to my project!
Alls to say: you don’t get a cookie just for making something good.
It contrasts well with Miura, who I’m shocked has not somehow been fired yet, given everything. But Miura, in this chapter, just tells Eiji to do better; there is nothing actionable, no gut instinct on how to make it better. Not only that, but Eiji rightfully scolds Miura for just being pleased to be in single digits again.
Miura and Nanamine have very different flaws, but manifest the same result. Failure.
Except for Takahama (Goddamn). I wonder how Takahama feels having gotten number one. But if anyone deserves it, it’s him. It’s actually nice to see a relatively minor character doing so well.
But that brings me to the boys:
The Final Arc of PCP?
I loved Shujin’s little moment of reading PCP for ideas at the beginning of the chapter. It’s an extremely effective setup for the stand-alone that doesn’t stand alone notion, and also, getting some domestic chaos cheesecake is nice.
But the idea of making a crime that references all the other crimes they’ve committed – a meta-crime, you might say (heehee) feels like the setup for a final arc. Or at least, if I were doing something like that, I’d save it for a final arc.
Because now that I’ve read a lot of manga, the one thing that a lot of Shonen Manga do in their “Final Arcs,” which can sometimes be as long as the whole rest of the manga (I’m looking at you, Undead Unluck), is that they get grace notes for all the major characters in a final battle. It’s fun, it’s satisfying, and it signals that things are coming to an end.
So I suspect that this means PCP is rounding the corner on its own conclusion—or at least I hope so. The last run of chapters has me somewhat convinced that they’ll let PCP end on its own terms, even though it’s popular because of what Eiji was doing. Or maybe I’m huffing copium.
But yeah, Graduation, mega crime, that’s something you save for the end—the best for last.
Speculation notwithstanding, it is a fun idea for a serialized story with no grand arch narrative driving the momentum, but villain of the week interactions.
And I think that means we’re getting a second series from the boys soon—a death note-type series. Saiko has been working on those character designs, after all.
I still think PCP will get an anime from Yamashita, but the Death Note thing feels on the horizon. I am excited.
What I am less excite about, however, and what I have saved for this final bit is:
Nanamine
Yeah, so, I know I’m pretty bloodthirsty when it comes to Nanamine, and he deserves precisely zero sympathy from me or anybody. Especially when he’s just a spoiled rich kid.
But I also feel kinda bad for him. Kinda.
Not in this chapter, really, he was at his worst in every way that mattered this chapter. It was actually stunning how many character failings one character can have before reality slaps them in the face.
But the ones that made me feel sympathetic were his visions for a series and his idea that he would win. Knowing that your work is good and being confident is an essential part of the creative process.
And seeing him envision his future—while hubristic—is still very much a standard creator thing. But it’s also a rookie approach to winning. You can’t have faith in how good your stuff is.
You have to put in the work.
And seeing Nanamine abuse Kosugi, who just wants to help him, seeing that huge post of PCP behind him, as if silently judging him, seeing him reject any opinion not his own, not even reading other manga in the magazine. All of it was horrible and petty, and he deserved to lose
But it was also all the hallmark failures of a beginner. And if he weren’t a narcissist, and instead he was just an overeager beginner – and if he were willing to take the lesson that came with his failure – then this wouldn’t be a tragedy. However, as this chapter amply demonstrated, he had hubris, and his goals were not aligned with making manga. They were aligned with being successful.
And that is the final fatal difference that Kosugi’s berating speaks to: it’s not just about being able to play the game well; it’s about having soul in the game. Making manga or art because you love it is what will sustain you on your journey forward. Nanamine fundamentally lacks the understanding of that soul because money has solved all his problems.
Despite how truly terrible Nanamine is, it’s also sad and depressing and makes me feel bad for him. I can’t help it. I still think the series is making objectively the right call by kicking him to the curb. But Jesus. He’s such a sad character.
But anyway, if this goes on any longer, I will be rambling.
A powerful conclusion, to a powerful arc, I’m so happy it turned out this way, I can only imagine what happens next
Until next time,
Peace
