By mikawaghost and tomari. Released in Japan as “Tomodachi no Imouto ga Ore ni dake Uzai” by GA Bunko. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Alexandra Owen-Burns.

Despite the presence of some of the worst metaphors in the world, this is a better volume than the previous one, mostly because it doesn’t keep hammering on Sumire’s love of young boys. It essentially wraps up the plot from the previous book in the first half, leaving the 2nd half to delve deeper into one of the characters who we’ve been waiting to hear more about: our narrator, Akiteru. Well, sorry to break it to you, but we still don’t learn all that much about him. That said, it’s a good examination of his mindset and how he views himself compared to the others in the group, and a reminder that sometimes middle management really *is* the best skill to have. And of course there’s romance – Akiteru may be slowly (very, very slowly) catching on to what love actually feels like, and iroha reminds the other two heroines that she is still Best Girl round these parts.

Of course, given that Iroha has been on the cover of every volume to date, the idea that this is an ‘equal harem’ series is ridiculous. We start off where we left off, with Akiteru and Iroha in the shrine of love. Unfortunately, the shrine of love does not come with a toilet, so any deep sexual yearnings will have to wait. And, in any case, the real issue resolved here is Sumire’s desire to be an artist warring with her desire to be a teacher. It helps that, in the best Japanese tradition, her stern, unyielding grandfather turns out to be quite yielding after all. Then our heroes finally get a beach vacation, at Canary’s private beach house. Of course, there’s a catch. While brainstorming a new character, Canary essentially comes up with it herself. And also is better at forcing Sumire to work. And their “ghost” writer too. Is… is there anything for Akiteru left to do?

The main reason to read this series is still the two leads, who are the best thing about it. Akiteru may talk a good game about being logical and pragmatic, but he’s repressing an awful lot, and seeing how well Canary can seemingly do what he does every day gets him depressed and jealous. And, of course, it’s up to Iroha to do something about this. I like how her pep talk does help to cheer him up, but it’s not the actual solution – the solution is that Akiteru really *is* better at managing a bunch of eccentrics, as Canary finds out to her horror. (That said, she was doing this to test him anyway.) We’re also seeing secret identieis out in the open – Sumire now knows who Mashiro really is, and Ozuma has figured out who the “secret voice actress” is as well. This sort of series can’t resolve too quickly, but it’s nice to see it determined to move forward a plot point of two each volume.

There’s a cliffhanger that suggests the next book might be a bit more uncomfortable for Akiteru. Till then, this is a decent high school romcom with likeable characters, except for Sumire sometimes, and great dialogue, except for Sumire all the time. Seriously, “the dick in my heart won’t get hard”? That’s the metaphor you go with?

By mikawaghost and tomari. Released in Japan as “Tomodachi no Imouto ga Ore ni dake Uzai” by GA Bunko. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Alexandra Owen-Burns.

Someone needs to tell Japan that “having the rest of the cast being creeped out about the appalling character” is not a get out of jail free card for everything the character does. I’ve said in the previous books that the shotacon tendencies of Sumire are not funny but awful. Well, she’s the main character of this book, and so we get a lot more of it than even the previous two, and it’s still awful. Saying that a guy would be the perfect husband if only he were 5 years old is not a “LOL” moment. So be aware as I write the rest of this that this is a big black mark, and made me not enjoy this book nearly as much as the previous two. That said, I’m still reading it, because I do like the cast and the romantic comedy situations. With, well, one exception. Fortunately, this is not We Never Learn, so the teacher has precisely zero chance of winning the romantic sweepstakes.

We pick up right where the cliffhanger left off, as Sumire begs Akiteru to marry her. As expected, her family has decided enough is enough, and is going to arrange marry her soon… which means she won’t be able to draw anymore. This is basically the only reason Akiteru agrees to the scheme. After some “wacky” date situations, which I will not go into as they are dumb, a trip that’s supposed to be to the beach becomes a trip to her remote mountain village, where her father wants to meet Akiteru… and force them to get married immediately. Can they possibly get around the marriage ceremony with a 100% success rate? Can Iroha continue to try to cleverly juggle all these relationships in the air, given sempai is a dense MF and won’t do it for her? And can Mashiro finally admit she’s secretly their star writer?

Again, this series leans pretty hard on the Higurashi pastiche. Their game is subtitled “When They Cry”, and Sumire’s home village essentially turns out to be Hinamizawa, complete with terrifying elders and obscure rituals. Having already mentioned the volume’s big weaknesses, I do want to applaud its really good moment, when Mashiro’s editor (who we meet here, ad boy does it take some fancy footwork to explain her presence) points out to Akiteru that he needs to be able to offer his fellow game creators a reason to stay on with him, or else they’re going to look for other opportunities. What can he personally offers them? (Other than, of course, being the romantic lead who has no idea half the cast are in love with him.) It’s not a question that’s answered here, but I do appreciate it was brought up. Iroha also remains quite enjoyable, a bit less “annoying” than the first two volumes, probably as she’s trying harder to have him “get” her feelings.

That’s unlikely to happen soon, and a cliffhanger means we don’t even get this one resolved in one volume. Still, hopefully it won’t take up all of Vol;. 4. I think two volumes starring Sumire is two too many.

By mikawaghost and tomari. Released in Japan as “Tomodachi no Imouto ga Ore ni dake Uzai” by GA Bunko. Released in North America by J-Novel Club. Translated by Alexandra Owen-Burns.

In my last review, I compared this book to McDonald’s fast food, and nothing here changes that opinion. I enjoyed it a great deal. It has characters who I enjoy reading, dialogue that’s a lot of fun, and clearly has a long-term goal in mind as opposed to just being written volume to volume. On the other hand, wow, the plot beats here make me cringe. “Let’s save the drama club!” is not something that a self-respecting series should be doing when it’s only the second book, and the ludicrous coincidences that lead to our leads ending up in the production are even worse. Now, I get the sense the author knows this, as the situation really is pretty ludicrous, but yeah, don’t read this for the plot. That said, it should make this pretty fun to adapt when it becomes an anime, and Iroha will no doubt please fans who are already over the moon for Uzaki and Nagatoro, though I warn you her dialogue is a bit slang-filled.

This volume picks up right where the last one left off, as Akiteru tries to figure out how to respond to Mashiro’s confession, and Iroha knows about this confession but has to pretend she doesn’t. Akiteru knows he has to respond quickly and decisively, because he’s read dumb romantic comedy light novels. Unfortunately, it turns out that while he tries his hardest to be the best Eliezer Yudkowsky he can be, he is not quite able to get past the fact that he’s really goddamn happy he got a confession -though it takes him most of the book to figure this out. As for Iroha, well, she’s dealing with jealousy as well, plus her dimwitted senpai not figuring out her feelings (which Mashiro sure can by the end of this book), and it’s even affecting her voice acting work. Hrm, this sounds complicated, maybe saving the drama club *is* what’s needed…

As I’ve said before, Akiteru interests me, mostly as I think he’s screwed up in a very different way from cynics like Kyon or nihilists with a heart of gold like Hachiman. His raw panic when Iroha points out he’s overslept by an hour, and desperation to get to school on time so it doesn’t mess up his regimented life, is very telling. There’s no denying that he’s excellent at directing, be it games or plays, and despite his own denials, he’s a pretty good actor too. But improvisation seems to be a kryptonite for him. The only reason he can do the play is he’s so familiar with the material, and the problems with Mashiro and Iroha that he “solves” here are done after thinking them out in bullet points in his head. The first epilogue suggests that he’s going to have to figure out a way to break through that soon, as he may need to improvise even more in the future.

Despite adding a new cast member to the game group (a classmate of Akiteru’s who is a genius sound designer), this still feels like only three of the cast are really important, and I’m hoping we’ll flesh out the others soon. Unfortunately, next time it looks like the one I didn’t want fleshed out will be getting the spotlight. I smell an arranged marriage… In any case, this is a lot of fun unless you take light novels too seriously.