The very first pages of the manga, tinged with blue, show us the exact moment Uta realised that she’d fallen in love – the exact moment her sister-in-law became her crush. A year later, Uta is in high school and is living with Reiichi, her older brother, and Kaoru, the aforementioned sister-in-law. No matter how she tries, she cannot get over this love, her ‘too late’ love. If I Could Reach You is the examination of this binary star system of Uta and Kaoru, and how they keep circling each other, never quite able to clear that distance, nor leave.

 

A tragedy, to me, is a story in which fate cannot be fought. It marches on, tramples over all in its path, and death seems the only escape from it. Is this a tragedy? No, not really. But I think it shares some similarities. It is circular, somehow, an invetability to the telling of it. Uta loves Kaoru. Uta knows it’s hopeless, but cannot give it up. She knows that Kaoru sees her as a sister only, which only makes it worse – Kaoru wanting to be closer in a familial way speaks to what Uta wants, but not for the reasons she wants it. The manga is seven volumes, so it’s not so prone to the endless circling that some romance manga seem to get into, but it’s certainly not decisive in its action. It moves quite slowly, building up layers of paint onto the canvas, until you finally get the whole picture – or is it? Some things are left untold even by the end, left to our imagination.

 

The drama felt pretty realistic and down to earth. It’s fairly obvious that Kaoru and Reiichi’s relationship isn’t quite working even at the start – the blurb of the first volume tells you that – but the actual reason is kept right until the end of the manga, as the issue comes together. The fall out is realistic. It’s not so much a soap opera of a shoujo manga, but a more melancholic tide of no one quite being happy, but none are able to address it, nor particularly face it, so it continues.

 

Having said that, I don’t see this as a depressing manga. It doesn’t feel hopeless, to me. It feels like a snapshot of lives not my own, just watching them play out, unable to impact them in any way. There are plenty of moments of levity, and characters that change the tone, not interested in dwelling in pity. Kuro, and her relationship with Miyabi, is an interesting aside, and Konatsu, although she has her own regrets, has her own unique way of dealing with things too. I think this manga is about uneven relationships, really, where feelings don’t quite match each other, and the strain that can put on them – and whether they can survive it. I’m not so keen on the portrayal of love as some unending emotion, unable to be shaken or swayed, but I can forgive that, as I do with many manga.

 

The art is fairly simple, but gives itself space to breathe – the emotions come through clearly. There was a panel in the first volume, where Uta has a dream in class about Kaoru kissing her – the panel of her jolting awake is the thing I remember most. The despair, the horror, perhaps the relief that it hadn’t actually happened, or the disappointment. It was this panel that really caught me, and made me carry on with it. There are lots of big panels and expressions which made me stop – if I had one complaint, it would be that everyone is a little stretched, with long limbs. It’s not unusual for manga, but does make me wonder about everyone’s heights, sometimes.

 

Although I enjoy this series, I’m having trouble with who to advise might like it. It has a little of the realism of How Do We Relationship? But isn’t so swift in its story-telling. It doesn’t really have the clear narrative of many shoujo, and it’s neither a wholly happy story nor a big drama. Perhaps if you like stories with something of an open end, this might appeal. If I had to compare the mood of it, it would be to Solanin by Inio Asano, in its relatively mundane, melancholic realism in depicting messy and imperfect relationships.

 

Story: 6

Art: 6

Yuri: 5

Service: 3 (the odd bath scene, not done salaciously as far as I recall)