by Matt Marcus, Staff Writer

Content Warning for discussions of sexual coercion

My grandfather remarried when I was seven years old. This was fantastic news for me, since both of my grandmothers passed before I was forming permanent memories. Most summers of my childhood, my family would visit my grandparents at their second home in the Poconos (I never learned why they chose that area; perhaps the Catskills were too posh). During one of those visits my step-grandmother served a peach Jello mold for dessert. For whatever reason, my eight-year-old palette was delighted by this dish, and told my new grandmother this emphatically. She was, of course, ecstatic to hear this, so much so that she would remember to serve it every time we visited.

Every time we visited.

For fourteen years.

Peach Jello, mixed from a box, formed in the shape of a bundt cake.

I can’t remember exactly when I started to dislike eating it, but it had to have been early in my teenage years. Loathed was I to admit that I no longer enjoyed this loving gesture from the only grandmother I have ever known. I still made sure to eat it, of course. To do otherwise would be simply inconsiderate. But the taste no longer appealed to me.

Volume 11 of How Do We Relationship? will be many reader’s peach Jello.

Where we left off in Volume 10, both of our deuteragonists’ relationships had started on downward trajectories. Miwa and Tamaki still seem to not be connecting in the bedroom, while Yuria’s seemingly sudden mental health struggles start to erode her relationship with Saeko, who is doing her damnedest to support her as much as possible.

The volume opens up where the previous volume left off with the visit to Yuria’s hometown, including her backstory. Seeing how hairdressing pulled her out of a depressive hole is nice and all, but the thing I really appreciate is how her difficulties didn’t feel tacked on or written in the moment; if you go back to Yuria’s introduction and pay attention to what she says here and there, most of what is covered here was mentioned, if not elaborated upon. I think it’s a sign of strong writing (or at least good planning). And while I’m not super convinced on the turn their relationship has taken, the conversations Saeko and Yuria have here are affecting. Still, despite their willingness to discuss their vulnerabilities, Yuria’s mental state does not seem to be improving.

I do like that we see some moments of Saeko listening to Miwa’s problems and offering her support, though I wish she would be more forthright with Miwa about sharing her struggles with Yuria. I thought that they would be a little tighter after Volume 9 but that hasn’t quite come to pass. It makes sense that they aren’t attached at the hip like they were freshman year, given that they are juggling class, part-time jobs, band practices, job hunting, and spending time with their partners (including summer trips), but it does feel like a half-step back in their friendship.

Chapter 100 lands in the middle of this volume and it’s hard not to see it as a bit of a fanservice victory lap. This is because Shiho comes to Tokyo on the job hunt and meets up with Miwa to catch up. Miwa’s pain from volume 5 had healed, and now she sees her first crush as a dear friend. It’s really sweet! Sure, I’m a bit bummed that this basically wraps up Shiho’s part in the story with a nice little bow, but I’m happy at least that she’s still a part of the tapestry. Also, in lieu of an artist comic, Tamifull-sensei included a short story of Shiho and her younger sister which is also cute.

There are some other subtle story-telling things that I caught, such as how Saeko upgraded her guitar from a no-name S-style to a Dakota Red Fender Telecaster. That’s a big upgrade, and it shows that she’s taking her band with Tamaki seriously without even a line of dialogue. Now, unfortunately drawing instruments have never been Tamifull-sensei’s strong suit, and there are a couple panels where the guitars look truly awful. It’s really the only mark I have against the art at this point. That said, I have to say that I love the cover art for this volume. It feels like a lost riot grrrl album cover, and I think it would look fuckin’ rad framed on my wall in my house (please, Shogakukan, VIZ, SOMEBODY make this happen).

[This next section may be triggering for some readers; if you would like to skip, head to the next note with brackets]

So, I’ve done enough beating around the bush: we have to talk about Miwa and Tamaki. We have seen trouble brewing in their relationship for some time, and so the only question was how badly would it go when it does break bad. And it is nearly as terrible as you could imagine. After an incident where Tamaki angrily tells Miwa how frustrated she is that every date night ends in sex, Miwa decides to forgo sex completely. This also angers Tamaki, who isn’t wholly against sex but just doesn’t want it with the same frequency.

Things boil over after the amusement park gig and Tamaki demands to have sex. Miwa wants to stand firm on her celibacy stance, but she ultimately gives in, both to Tamaki but also to her suppressed desire. It’s a very upsetting scene. While it is a bit of a meme that Miwa as a character only exists to suffer, this is the first time I felt that the story was intentionally cruel to her. As someone who explicitly states that sex quells her anxiety over whether she is loved, the fact that her body responded as it did in a very unloving context is an extreme betrayal. 

I found this situation very similar to the one the Okazu staff discussed over Yuri Is My Job! Volume 12. As a character development-focused plot turn, it makes perfect sense. But I did not enjoy reading it and felt that the point could have been made without the intensity shown here; to go back to my mixology metaphor from my previous review, it’s as if Tamifull-sensei spiked the Negroni with moonshine. It also makes me really dislike Tamaki, a character I have grown quite fond of—and who has some fantastic moments in this very volume. The way the story is paced here, every happy moment within this relationship is immediately tainted by how each outing has ended. I have to again contrast this with Saeko and Yuria, who have had heartwarming moments and opportunities to grow; Miwa doesn’t get such luck.

I think the worst part is where the volume cuts off, leaving Miwa at her lowest moment. Knowing what happens next (thank you simulpubs), it would have been a much kinder stopping point if this volume were three chapters longer. I can’t imagine what it would have felt like to have to sit in this moment for 6 months waiting for Volume 12.

[End of section]

I think ultimately the biggest criticism I can levy here is that we, the readers, can tell that both of these relationships had to be blown up for the sake of the ultimate ending. At this point, I’m almost relieved by the Commentary Track comics that all but explicitly say that Miwa and Saeko get back together, because it makes this difficult stretch feel less gratuitously nihilistic. Tamifull-sensei created this series on the premise of exploring relationships between mismatched people, and thus far we’ve seen several ways in which that can cause breakdowns, but I wonder where this story will draw the line on what constitutes a “happy compromise” that leads to a stable, loving partnership. The only such relationship we know of is Yuria’s sister Erina and her boyfriend Kaito, and we don’t get all that much of them here.

The full wrap on this volume is that it really is a whipsawing experience. Reading through, I find there are many funny moments, several good scenes of characters talking through their problems, and even joyous highs, but it can be difficult to enjoy those moments when the tone dips so low with such regularity. Also, knowing what happens over the next few chapters, I really hate where this cuts off. I’m still ride or die for this series, but I know this volume will turn off quite a few readers and it pains me to think that for them this story will become a flavor that was once loved, but is loved no longer.

Ratings:

Art – 9 The art is still great but Tamifull-sensei did Pete Townsend-level damage to those guitars, yeesh
Story – 7 The bright spots are dragged down by the heavy ones
Characters – 7 There are still good moments of talking through stuff, though it’s mostly with Saeko and Yuria
Service – 9 Only scoring this as a Shiho Appreciator
LGBTQ – 10 You know the score by now

Overall – 7 The dosage here makes the poison

Volume 12 of challenging college romance story will release in January 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.

by Matt Marcus, Staff Writer

I have a morbid fascination with LinkedIn. I often peruse the site for a sort of black comedy, a satire where people are genuinely excited about how one divine moment of #leadership made their company infinitesimally more profitable. Even though I decided to willingly join this farce of productivity posturing, I pride myself on holding onto my skepticism of this bizarre forum. I am the man wearing the They Live shades, firm in my knowledge that I can play the game while acknowledging its hollowness. Yet, some days my confidence falters and I wonder if there’s a way to escape all this, to find some means of providing a life for my family that doesn’t require me to use phrases like “maximize stakeholder value”. But it’s a passing feeling, one I have become quite adept at swallowing.

When I go to my feed, what greets me is a deluge of banal job hunting advice, questionable claims about the current job market, rosy prognostications on the future of AI. Each post I scroll by fills me with more and more dread. Does my resumé have a snowball’s chance in hell of even making it through to human eyes anymore? And after that, can I prove myself to be skilled and savvy enough by answering inane questions through three, four, five-plus interview rounds? These days, it’s distressingly common to see desperate posts from strangers with the #OpenForWork badge added to their profile picture loudly shouting about their many, many months of failed job searching. I feel lucky that my current job is secure, but it’s not the kind of luck I can savor. I cannot imagine what the pressure might be like for those fresh to the job hunt.

In this first volume of Throw Away The Suit Together, college student Haru is one of those struggling job seekers. All she wants is some security for her and her long-time girlfriend, Hinoto, so they can live a comfortable life together. Unfortunately, she bombs her second-round interview at one company and proceeds to not pass the first round at several others. Under the pressure of these failures, she snaps, throws all her job applications out into the street, and decides that they should escape Tokyo on “Hii-chan”’s scooter. Hinoto, ever supportive of her partner, agrees to go along with her, abandoning her internship. They head off to Hinoto’s aunt’s summer house on an unnamed island.

Their plan, what little of it there is, doesn’t go smoothly. After falling asleep overnight on the beach, Hinoto’s bike, which held all of their belongings, is taken by a local who thought it was abandoned. They arrive at the house, only for its owner to call and tell them they are not welcome to live there (Hinoto had, of course, neglected to ask for permission). They have no idea what they are going to do for money. But they are in love, and their belief in that love is what will pull them through it.

Things do turn around, a little. Hinoto’s aunt gives the girls her blessing to use the house (all she wanted was some honesty). The bike and its contents are returned by the young woman, Naruko, who took it, and it turns out she’s a diving instructor who may have a job to offer. After an initially awkward proposal from Haru, the girls agreed to upgrade their relationship status to “engaged”. The volume ends as the two lovers begin writing up a marriage application, though they know that gay marriage isn’t fully legal in Japan.

Keyyang-sensei nailed the anxiety and feelings of futility in the job search. Hell, I’m nearly tempted to put a content warning for it. Given that, you’d expect this story to be a straightforward escapist fantasy: screw the rat race, let’s move to an island and live a good, simple life. But, there’s something here that gives me pause. So far, every step Haru and Hinoto have made has been messy and poorly thought out, though they have so far managed to overcome these unforced errors. Nevertheless, it is hard to shake the feeling that the specter of Tokyo and the world it represents still haunts them.

Haru in particular seems to keep pushing away facing the difficult questions and escapes into deeper and deeper fantasies. Hinoto is more pragmatic, but she is willing to do anything to make Haru happy right now, fuck the consequences. I should feel relieved by their adventure, but I’m not. The fears of failure have been merely tamped down, like when you decide yet again to binge YouTube videos instead of updating your years-old resumé. Haru has thrown a rug over the mess, expecting it to disappear. The escape doesn’t feel complete.

As for the art, it’s much like the protagonists: earnest but a bit sloppy. The characters don’t seem consistently drawn, particularly Hinoto whose hair inexplicitly develops a flat top with corners for a couple of panels. That said, there are two really solid two-page splashes which seems a bit excessive for how little happens in the plot, but I can’t begrudge it too much. It is a little odd just how much page space includes our protagonists in some state of semi-sexy undress, though I’m willing to give it a pass as a sign of the level of comfort and intimacy they share (they have been dating since before college, though we don’t know much else). Things don’t actually get spicy until a bonus comic near the end of the comic, the purpose of which I don’t quite understand. The only thing that I can come up with is that it reinforces the motif of Haru attempting something with good intentions and failing, with Hinoto brushing it off and showing her support.

I’m holding out hope that this trepidation I am feeling leaves me once the girls find some means of employment with Naruko, though we know that the jobs may only be seasonal. I’m rooting for these girls. They may not stay on the island forever but I’m hoping that this trip rebuilds Haru’s confidence, and maybe shifts her view on what her goal should be for what is only the very beginning of her career. If not, she could always consult LinkedIn.

Art – 6 Competent but a bit too sloppy for my liking
Story – 7 The road is there is there, but I’m nervous about the destination
Characters – 7 Haru’s avoidant tendencies and Hinoto’s blind support is a dangerous pairing
Service – 5 There’s sex, and the girls spend a lot of time in a state of undress
Yuri – 9 / LGBTQ – 5 There is a marriage proposal!

Overall – 6 Narrowly making it to the second interview round

Volume 2 of this island escape story hits shelves in October.

For all future prospective employers: all opinions expressed in this review are exaggerated for dramatic effect :)

Matt Marcus is a serial enthusiast whose range of appreciations include guitars, watches, and a particular genre of Japanese popular media named after a flower. Outside of writing for Okazu, he cohosts various projects on the Pitch Drop Podcast Network, where he frequently bloviates about video games, anime, and manga. He also hosts a blog Oh My God, They Were Bandmates analyzing How Do We Relationship in greater depth.