By Matt Marcus, Staff Writer

“…This has been a really great conversation. We’re really excited for the possibility of you joining our team here at Island Industries.”

“It’s a fantastic opportunity,” I hear myself say. I clench my jaw, thinking It better be, after six interview rounds.

“We just have one last question for you. More of a case study, really,” says a man with closely cropped hair and narrow rectangular glasses. I’ve already forgotten his name, but I do know that he is some kind of VP. “We dug into your background and found your little, ah, ‘side hustle’ at Okazu.”

I chuckle nervously. “Oh it’s more of a hobby, really—”

“We were hoping that your review of…that series with the android would give us some insight about your skills in the field of AI, but, alas.” My eyes dart quickly between him and the two other members of the interview panel, looking for some kind of reaction. None show any readable expression. “What we found more interesting was that you have yet to review Throw Away The Suit Together, Volume 3.” 

My pulse accelerates, and I can feel perspiration dampening my shirt under my suit jacket. “Um, yeah, that’s a strange one. Hard to get a handle on it.”

“Well, we feel like this role requires someone who is able to forge a clear path in the face of ambiguity. It’s a demonstration of decisive leadership.” The man pulls out a paperback book from behind his chair and places it on the conference room table. He spins it around so I can see the cover properly and slides it towards me. Two young women are dressed in office clothes, holding hands and looking straight at me with resolute eyes. “I want you to tell us, what is Keyyang-sensei trying to say with this series?”

I try to swallow the panic that rises in my throat. This is crazy, I think. The recruiter didn’t tell me there was going to be ANOTHER case study. And what the hell does this have to do with this job??…You know what, fuck it. I need this job. Just remember your interview training. My voice shakes slightly as I begin. “O-OK, so let me start with laying out the situation.

“In Volume 2, Haru and Hinoto lucked into some part time employment at a dive shop, which manages to buy them a few weeks of time before needing full time employment. However, neither are willing to actually make a realistic plan for the future. Instead, they revert to trying to hunt for the same kinds of jobs they were running from and find it impossible on this remote island. Haru overhears Hinoto call the college and ask about readmission, clearly setting up a conflict.

“So, their relationship begins to break down because each side is feeling more and more desperate and are failing to communicate. Both manage to get interviews but neither land a job, so they rip up their marriage contract and go back to Tokyo and return to the grind they tried to escape.”

They also have a lot of desperate, sad sex, but I’m going to leave that part out. 

“So, do you think the story is about the dehumanization of people who are forced to participate in capitalism?” asks a stern middle-aged woman, her hair pulled back into a tight bun that accentuates her sharp facial features.

“I mean, that is one part of the story, clearly. But that doesn’t sit fully right with me as the central theme. The story is so laser-focused on these young women and their misguided decisions. A lot of escape stories like this would lead to the main couple living with little money but a lot of joy, and instead neither partner can give up the idea of joining a large established company. Not only is being, um, ‘low income’ off the table for them, but they both tried to get jobs without going through proper channels or getting the credentials that would qualify them for those positions. It’s like, they feel that they have the privilege to skirt around the issue of qualifications and merit, if only because they find doing things the ‘proper way’ too stressful.”

“Do you think capitalism is inherently meritocratic?” The VP asks.

“We sure like to pretend it is, but obviously those with money—and therefore power—circumvent the rules all the time. Maybe in this case, these girls simply weren’t wealthy enough to pull off this plan of theirs.”

My last words hang in the air. Thirty seconds pass as we all sit in thought. Then, the third panelist, a stout, balding man with small, deep-set eyes who had been oddly quiet this entire interview, leans forwards and asks, “What do you think about the marriage license?”

I reply reflexively before I can formulate my thoughts. “I…I think it’s treated as the albatross weighing both Haru and Hinoto down, but also because it represents a non-legally binding relationship due to the lack of marriage equality in Japan, it kind of also represents nonconformity? It’s, like, more radical than just bailing from the bustle of Tokyo and trying to make a life somewhere else.”

My pupils begin to dilate as the words flow out faster and faster. “It’s as if the problem isn’t the girls’ impulsiveness or the economic system. The core problem is more fundamental than that. It’s simply that they don’t follow the basic rules of society. They decided to stick out, and society punished them for it. So they must conform. Go back to Tokyo, get those degrees, throw out the dream of legal partnership. But that message is so hollow, isn’t it? ‘Don’t get too big for your britches’? ‘Know your place’? Sure, their relationship survives this ordeal. But you could almost see a breakup down the road because the ‘dream’ will always be too heavy a burden to bear. It tries to end on a hopeful note, but it ended up leaving a really sour taste in my mouth.”

The small man stares intently at me, but then leans back in his chair and presses no further. Mr. VP chimes in, “I think that’s all we have on our side. Do you have any questions for us?”

Yeah, I do, like what the fuck just happened to this interview. “So, I guess Yuri is pretty popular in the office, yeah?” I try to joke. “It’s an essential part of the job, it says so right in the posting.” the woman replies. I look down at the printout next to my notepad on the table. Reading the page, I knit my eyebrows in confusion. Yuri Solutions Architect? The hell is…?

After a beat, the VP says, “HR will be reaching out to you for our final decision. Thank you for your time Mr. Marcus. Oh, and don’t forget your scooter.”

“My scooter…? I don’t own a….” I look to my right to see an old, well-worn moped revving up in the corner of the conference room. I recognize in terror that it’s Hinoto’s scooter, threatening to drive me toward ruin like it did it’s owner. Startled, I scramble out of the swiveling office chair and back away until I hit the full-length exterior window covering one wall of the room behind me. The scooter accelerates towards me, and the scream doesn’t have time to leave my throat before—

My iPad falls onto my face, startling me awake. I am on the living room couch in my apartment. I groggily tap the device to be greeted by my lock screen, an illustration page from Otherside Picnic. In the stark black and white image, two young women carry assault rifles down a side street of a derelict Japanese town. Superimposed atop the picture is large text that reads 3:12 a.m.

As I go to put the iPad away, I briefly see a LinkedIn job posting notification for a role at some company called Island Industries. I pay it no mind as I half-consciously shamble off to bed.

Art – 5
Story – 6
Characters – 5
Service – 3 
Yuri – 9 / LGBTQ – 4

Overall – 5

Matt Marcus is a cohost of various projects on the Pitch Drop Podcast Network, as well as the writer for the blog Oh My God, They Were Bandmates analyzing How Do We Relationship in greater depth.

By Matt Marcus, Staff Writer

I’ve long held a preference to mouthwash. No, not the electric blue-green swill with flavor names like “arctic” and “alpine”, describing some slightly different formulation of wintergreen. I’m talking about the unadulterated, sickly amber kind simply called “Original.” Unlike its minty counterparts, the Original burns as it works. I liked that about it. It told you not only that it was working, but where it was working. I always found the lack of feedback from the other flavors disorienting, as if I were trying to walk on numbed feet. I feel the same about aftershave, hydrogen peroxide, and so on. Pain exists to direct your attention to places of need.

How Do We Relationship?, Volume 12 brings the pain. A cleansing, healing pain that is much sorely needed.

Last we left our cast, the plot had taken a heavy-handed nosedive into some serious subject matter. Miwa was left broken after a traumatic encounter with Tamaki, while Saeko’s relationship continues to be more and more strained by Yuria’s need for space.

There’s no sense being coy about it: this is the volume where the girls break up. Again. None of this should be a surprise, as we have felt the cracks starting to form two volumes prior, but unlike before, I feel like the pangs of heartache here are growing pains rather than seeping wounds.

I emphasized in my last review how critical I was in how Miwa and Tamaki’s conflict about sex played out. The first few chapters here help add some context to the fallout that I think takes some of the worst sting out of it, but without lightening its impact. For Miwa, she felt shame that her sexual desire was so strong that it overpowered her emotional needs, and that Tamaki felt repulsed by the intensity of that desire.

Miwa breaks up with Tamaki. The decision is a major sign of growth for her; instead of clinging desperately to a flawed relationship like she did in the past, she realizes that despite their mutual love for each other, it would be mentally and emotionally better for her and Tamaki to part ways as lovers (put a pin in that, it will come up again). I think the breakup and their later run-in at the school festival were emotionally impactful, and it left me thinking that both of them will be OK as they move on in their lives.

It does, however, resurface an underlying issue: this is another example of Miwa feeling like she owns all the blame for a failing relationship. At no point does she give Tamaki any ownership in what transpired in their relationship, much like she did with Saeko before. This seems like a character flaw that will continue to not be treated as such. I can accept that even at 21 she is not a fully-formed adult yet, but her martyr complex is a blind spot that is a bit troubling.

As is typical in this medium, we get to see into Tamaki’s backstory for the first time right before the end. I think that the segment was effective in further humanizing her…but it was a struggle for me to want to empathize with her after the last volume. That queasy feeling from chapter 103 is just never going to fully go away, as if it were some kind of trauma (put a pin in that).

I had mentioned in previous reviews that I wish we saw more of Miwa and Tamaki’s happy moments together. The characters clearly express that their love was deep and genuine, but very little of that made it to the page in favor of anxiety and stress—and not even just around the sex. The way they interact here shows me their feelings, but I was not given the opportunity, with a rare exception or two, to feel it for myself.

There is another moment of growth here for Miwa that I found particularly impactful. When Miwa is casually outed at a social gathering for the Light Music Club, she takes the moment in stride and is able to smoothly redirect the conversation away from her queerness being the topic. This inspires a baby gay first-year to approach her after the event and tell her that he admires her strength in “living her truth”. Miwa reflects for a moment before telling him that she falls in love with women who are “bold and cool”, and she looks to their example as her source of strength. It’s a powerful moment of self-reflection that is demonstrative of this series at its best. Watching Miwa mature from the timid girl who couldn’t handle Kan in Volume 2 to now is one of the most satisfying character arcs I’ve witnessed in manga.

Meanwhile, Saeko and Yuria struggle to find a compromise between Saeko’s desire to spend as much time together and Yuria’s emotional need for space. Saeko struggles with not being able to see Yuria when she wants, but when Yuria begins making more time for her, she feels bothered that she’s making a sacrifice. They are coming from too far a distance apart for meeting in the middle to feel good. That’s a big bummer for a couple that we’ve seen work through troubles and arguments before and come out the other side stronger.

I could say a lot more about this, but in the end, they both agree to go back to being friends (at their favorite spot, the playground, of course). Like this series is fond of doing, the breakup doesn’t mean cutting themselves out of each other’s life. I wish they could’ve worked it out, but if they were going to break up, it would be hard to ask for a better way for it to go for them.

I’ve been praising the art for a while now, but this volume has a few standout panels that are some of my favorite drawings of the series so far, along with a beautiful color image for the cover. Abby Lehrke’s localization continues to get top marks from me.

I believe this volume is a return to form from the trajectory it had been taking over the previous two volumes. Both Miwa and Saeko shed their tears, but they leave their relationships stronger and with a hope for the future. There are hints here as to what that future is—and if you are paying attention at all, you know where this is heading—but for now, the slate is clean. It’s a real palette cleanser, the kind for those who prefer to avoid the mint.

Ratings:

Art – 9
Story – 9
Characters – 10 
Service – 0
LGBTQ – 10

Overall – 9

The final chapter of the series was uploaded on the VIZ app on February, 28; Volume 13 will hit shelves in September 2025.

Matt Marcus is a cohost of various projects on the Pitch Drop Podcast Network, as well as the writer for the blog Oh My God, They Were Bandmates analyzing How Do We Relationship in greater depth.