By Hitoma Iruma and Non. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Molly Lee.

Since my last review, the anime has been running, and it’s due to adapt up to this volume if it keeps at the pace it’s been using. The anime has helped me come to terms with Shimamura’s monologues somewhat – it cuts out the boring bits, which is to say 80% of them, and leaves us with what is essentially a teenage girl who is constantly doubting that she is even a functional human being. Given the evidence of this book, she is correct to worry. Not that Adachi is any better, as the start of second year shows, to her horror, that despite the “I want to be BEST friends!” of previous books, just a mere class change can mean Shimamura will be happy to drift away from her without another thought. So Adachi is ready to take the initiative. Confess? A ha ha ha no. But she’s ready to ask if they can eat lunch together, and later even ask if they can have a weekend sleepover. Baby steps, really.

As you can possibly see from the cover art, Shimamura has stopped dyeing her hair and let it settle back into her natural ‘slightly lighter than Adachi’ brown. They’re in second year now, and Hino and Nagafuji are now in another class. (Not to worry, the two get their own little subplot, though I continue to wonder whether the author is also making them a couple or just having them be goofy.) Adachi is still in her class… but is still suffering from Adachiness. As a result, when three other girls ask if Shimamura can join them for lunch, she says sure. What’s more, her old childhood friend, Tarumi, has called up again after their disastrous February date, and really, really wants to try again. They hang out. They get matching bear bookbag charms! And Tarumi, as with Adachi, runs up against the massive wall that is Shimamura’s blithe indifference to almost anything.

I mentioned the subplot with Hino and Nagafuji, and there’s one with Yashiro as well. Indeed, it has been brought to my attention that almost every single character in the book who is not a regular – a fortune teller Adachi meets who gives her courage, another seeming alien girl that Nagafuji meets at Hino’s estate – is from one of Iruma’s other books. Hell, even Yashiro straight up says here she’s not the same Yashiro as the one from Denpa Onna. This is almost entirely lost on English-speaking readers (I had to have it all explained to me), but it does show off how these books are filled with “treats for the fans”, sometimes to the detriment of the actual plot. I also left out the start of the book, which is probably the best part of it, in which we realize that something important happened much earlier than we expected. It is a sign of how much this book is obsessed with the transient nature of teenage relationships that nobody remembers this.

That said, the biggest takeaway for me from this book is: man, everyone is trying their hardest to indirectly shout “I love you!” at Shimamura, but indirectness just is not cutting it. It does make me wonder how much longer, or how many more crossover cameos, this series can do before it begins to wear on the reader. Someone needs to tear down Shimamura’s wall.

By Hitoma Iruma and Non. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Molly Lee.

There was a wondrous moment about two-thirds of the way through this book which really made me sit up and take notice. No, Adachi did not actually work up the nerve to confess – heck, even Valentine’s chocolate proves to be almost too much for her to handle. No, Yashiro did not wave goodbye and go back to her own planet, though the author remains very good about keeping it up in the air as to whether she’s an alien of a chuuni. But for one, brief, shining moment, Shimamura was interesting. She met up with a friend from her old school, who seemed to want very much to rekindle their friendship, and Shimamura being who she is, “sure, OK, I guess” was the response. We see the two of them travel on the train together, go to the mall together… and it is the most painful, awkward thing you will ever see. It’s unclear what Shimamura actually gets from this consciously, but unconsciously I think the answer is clear: Adachi is not like other friends.

As noted above, we are right around Valentine’s Day. Adachi wants to exchange chocolates, which she communicates to Shimamura in the most awkward panicky way possible. Shimamura, who has come to the conclusion that Adachi is simply desperate for basic human contact due to her family situation, agrees with this. The two then have what amounts to normal pre-Valentine’s adventures, mostly separate, though they do meet up for video games at Hino’s place. Adachi thinks far too much about astrology, tries to make homemade chocolate and then backs off completely, and is essentially a complete mess. Shimamura runs into not one but TWO old friends from school, and realizes that she barely even remembers anything they did anymore. That said, she also gets the bulk of dealing with Yashiro. When the 14th finally comes, we get a clear winner, and it’s Shimamura.

It was suggested to me on Twitter that Shimamura might be suffering from depression. Certainly I’d argue she’s suffering from malaise, which influences most of her actions and makes her the passive narrator that drives me crazy. It’s a funny running gag that Adachi imagines Shimamura’s response to doing anything and it’s always the equivalent of “meh”. This pays off here in two ways. First, the scenes with Tarumi help to show off that Shimamura struggles as much as Adachi with basic human responses, in particular the idea of “what friendship is”. Tarumi wants to rekindle their relationship (and, the reader suspects, perhaps wants a bit more than that), but Shimamura just is not able to respond to that at all, and finds the whole thing uncomfortable. This is contrasted with the final scene, where Adachi coincidentally retraces the same route Shimamura took with her old friend… only now with Adachi, and she’s laughing and having a ball. She GETS the difference. It pays off with the message Shimamura paid for, which is, for her, a grand gesture. And Adachi… well, she gets a hug? Which she will remember for a long time to come.

This series, if I’m being honest, still tries my patience most of the time. But there were moments in this book when I could actually feel Shimamura attempting to make an effort, and that almost made it worth it. I suspect we won’t get Vol. 4 till the anime finishes, so enjoy this now, right before it starts.

By Hitoma Iruma and Non. Released in Japan by Dengeki Bunko. Released in North America by Seven Seas. Translated by Molly Lee.

When I started this book, I had a very low bar I wanted it to clear, and to its credit, it did. I said on Twitter I was looking for Shimamura to be slightly more interesting and for Adachi to be slightly more gay. On one of those points, the book sails over the bar easily – Adachi’s freaking out about her love for Shimamura, what that says about her, what that says about Shimamura, trying to confess while also desperately hoping she is never found out, and (towards the end) realizing that yes, there is a physical desire in this love as well is probably the highlight of the book. As for Shimamura, sadly, she still narrates a large chunk of the book. She works best when around people more interesting than herself (i.e. the rest of the cast) and especially when she is dragged in an odd direction, which she just goes along with because she’s that sort of person. We saw this last time with the alien girl, and we see it here with her friend Nagafuji.

The book revolves around Christmas in Japan, meaning it’s a lover’s holiday, and also you eat fried chicken. Adachi, trying to convey her feelings without actually doing so, wants to invite Shimamura out to spend the day with her. The first third of the book or so has her working up the courage to do this. The second third splits our heroines into odd pairings – as I noted above, Shimamura and Nagafuji go to get a nice present for… well, for Adachi, but Shimamura, who is not completely clueless about what’s going on here, says it’s for her little sister. Meanwhile, Hino, the other half of “those two girls”, goes to the same mall with Adachi to help her get a present for Shimamura. In the final third, the two go on their not-date, have a relatively nice time, exchange presents, and Adachi tries to confess but doesn’t quite make it.

As with the last book, I think the strengths here lie in the unexpected making an appearance. In this book it’s the boomerang, a ridiculous present to give but also one that appeals highly to Shimamura, who falls in love with the image of Adachi throwing it. (Adachi isn’t wild about it, but it’s a present from the girl she likes, so it’s fantastic. She frames it on her wall. No, really.) I was also somewhat surprised that the book may be trying to pair the spares already, which given its tiny cast makes sense, I suppose. There are a few tiny scenes where you get the sense Hino and Nagafuji are also edging closer to each other, but again, they aren’t quite there. The entire book contrasts comfort (the same old thing every day) with danger (a risk of losing it all, but a big reward if successful. In the end, Adachi chooses to try to fall between the two poles, asking if Shimamura is not just her friend, but her BEST friend. Which, well, she is. For now, I guess Adachi will make do with that.

The flaws of this book are obvious: it still tends towards the dull and ordinary, and even the space alien girl is proving to be just another one of the cast now, hanging out with Shimamura’s younger sister. Oh yes, and there’s a jarring scene at the start when Shimamura, swimming at a fitness center, spots a creeper watching the little kids getting swimming lessons and saying “ew”. It’s meant to be slice of life, and I’m sure this does happen in Japan, but it felt out of place, and I wanted Shimamura to do something about him. Overall, though, if you liked the first book you should like the second. I do wonder how long it can string this out till Adachi finally confesses, though.