#The og article had manga illustrations with funny comments as legends + a short analysis of the manga's narration that I didn't include

[keikotwins]

Mokumokuren

Birds of different feathers flock together

Noticed online by head-hunting publishers, Mokumokuren hasn’t waited very long before polarising the attention of Japanese readers. With strange The Summer Hikaru Died, horrific bromance dealing with body dispossession, the mangaka signs a series of sophisticated oddity, that sets itself apart from the predictability of current fantasy productions.

Interview by Fausto Fasulo. Original translation: Aurélien Estager. English translation: “Keikotwins”. Bibliography: Marius Chapuis. Thanks: Camille Hospital & Clarisse Langlet (Pika), Yuta Nabatame, Mayuko Yamamoto & Mana Kukimoto (Kadokawa), Chiho Muramatsu (Tohan)

(T/N: Interview given to ATOM in winter 2023; 2 volumes were out in French.)

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In an interview given to the CREA website in November 2022, you confided inventing stories since very young. Did your first fictions resemble the ones you draw nowadays?

It’s true that there are quite a lot of common points between the stories I imagined when I was a child and the ones I tell nowadays in my mangas. Especially a specific motif, that has been haunting me since the time when I wasn’t really aware of the world surrounding me: the presence amongst us of “non-human” beings, that nonetheless have a perfectly normal, ordinary appearance…

And how was this “obsession” born?

Precisely identifying the origins is complicated, my memories are too blurry, I think… What I can tell you is that I’ve always been fascinated by “creatures”. For example, I remember being very impressed by Peter Jackson’s bestiary in the Lord of the Rings trilogy. By the way, still in a fantasy register, I am also a big fan of Harry Potter adaptations… (She thinks.) And I’ve always liked yōkai stories, you know. I think that what I like in all these mythologies is the idea of species classification: each has its own characteristics – physical, biological – its own way to apprehend its environment.

In Japan, yōkai are integral part of regional folklore. Did the place you grew up in have some specific beliefs?

I was born and grew up in Tokyo, and, as you must know, yōkai are mostly associated with rural areas. I was thus never really bathed in this type of regional fantasy folklore. There are all kinds of yōkai and we can perhaps see in some more contemporary urban legends the echo of certain past beliefs? (She thinks.) I am a bit frustrated, because I believe that I could remember a legend that would have impacted me, but nothing comes to mind immediately, sorry!

You have already said so in an interview and it’s quite obvious when reading your work: you are a big amateur of horrific fiction. What has been your first contact with the genre, all medium included?

It was television that introduced me to horror: special shows, television films, series, I was watching these programs with a mix of fear and enthusiasm, a confused sensation that particularly delighted me! (She thinks.) And amongst all the aired shows, I will remember two titles: Hontō ni atta kowai hanashi and Kaidan shin mimibukuro*.

* Inspired by the homonymous manga magazine published by Asahi Shimbun, Hontō ni atta kowai hanashi (lit. “Scary stories that really happened”) is a series produced by Fuji Television that has been airing more or less weekly since 2004. Derived from literary material (a series of compilations of hundreds of short stories by Hirokatsu Kihara and Ichirō Nakayama, published from 1990 to 2005) Kaidan shin mimibukuro is a series made of several short movies depicting ghost stories based on real testimony.

Did you read horror mangas when you were young?

Let’s say that I was more interested in live-action productions. Nowadays, I obviously appreciate some horror manga authors, without pretending to be any expert in the subject. For example, I like Junji Itō’s work, but I am far from knowing it for a long time… (She thinks.) I could also talk about Shigeru Mizuki, who I also appreciate a lot.

The mechanics of fear aren’t the same in occidental and oriental fictions. You like American horrific productions – like Ari Aster movies – as much as ones from Japanese origin – you notably quote Ichi Sawamura novels and Kōji Shiraishi feature films. Can we say that you are tying these two perspectives with The Summer Hikaru Died?

My relationship with horror is more imbued with oriental sensitivity. But what I find remarkable in occidental horrific productions is work on image. In The Shining like in Ari Aster movies, for example, there is real research made on frame composition and choice of colours. I also try to follow this aesthetic reflection in my work as a mangaka.

In Ari Aster’s work, beyond the very precise staging, there is this permanent desire of ambiguity. Do you try to dig this same equivocal trench?

Absolutely. I try to tell complex feelings as well in The Summer Hikaru Died, like fear dyed with nostalgia or attachment, repulsion mixed with fascination, with attraction…

How do you “sort out” the shots that inspire you in cinema?

I don’t draw while freeze-framing during specific scenes. I would always rather watch a movie as a “focussed” spectator. However, I pay a lot of attention to the way the director composes their frame. I sometimes take some notes, but I most often simply keep it in a corner of my mind.

Could you tell us when and how the story and characters of The Summer Hikaru Died appeared to you? Have they matured a long time within you?

I’ve started thinking about this story when I was preparing university entrance exams. I was aspiring to join an art uni, and I was drawing every day. I can’t really say I made my characters “mature”: back then, I wasn’t thinking that the drawings I was making would one day end up being published, way less being serialised! I innocently created characters close to me, without guessing that one day they’d become manga protagonists.

One of your foundational reads was Sui Ishida’s Tokyo Ghoul manga. Can you tell us how you discovered it and what effect it had on you?

I don’t really remember how I discovered this series, but what I know is that I became crazy about it at first read. What I liked – and what I still like – is this idea of telling a story that confronts humans to these “different” beings while following the point of view of a character that represents alterity. Beyond this strictly dramatic aspect, Sui Ishida’s storyboarding and character design have had a strong impact on my work. However, I want to add that Tokyo Ghoul isn’t the only title I took inspiration from, I obviously have other references…

Do you do a lot of researches to define the design of your characters? You seem to draw them easily, in a very natural gesture…

I haven’t spent a long time defining my protagonists. First, there are few in the manga, then, they evolve in a rather realistic universe. My goal was rather simple: they had to look believable in the reader’s eyes. I wanted people to be able to imagine crossing them in the street, you see?

It’s after seeing illustrations posted on social media that depicted the future characters of The Summer Hikaru Died that the publishing department of the Young Ace Up magazine noticed you. How have you reacted when approached?

I was very surprised, because I absolutely wasn’t trying to become a mangaka. I would have never projected in such a future, you see. And, very honestly, if they hadn’t suggested working on this series, I don’t think I would ever had pushed the doors of a publishing house… I am then very thankful towards the persons who have allowed me to enter.

And what would you have done if you hadn’t been solicited?

Back when I’ve been contacted, I was considering – still vaguely – working in the video games field. But I wasn’t really proactive, I wasn’t contacting anyone, wasn’t sending resumes…

Did you want to do chara-design?

Why not, yes. What I like in video games is the range of possibilities they offer. You can then create an entire universe and this is rather exhilarating.

So you’re a gamer…

I have dropped my controller since I’ve started drawing manga. But yes, when I had more time, I played rather regularly, especially Nintendo productions…

Even if you play rather little nowadays, do video games influence your work?

I can’t say whether it really is an influence, but the Undertale game has left a big mark on me. I felt its creator’s strong will to surprise players, to make them feel unprecedented sensations…

Horror manga only relies on art and storyboard to provoke fear, whereas cinema and video games can also rely on sound. Is it from this observation that you have decided to particularly work on your sound effects?

Absolutely. I have thought a lot about the way to introduce and stage sound in The Summer Hikaru Died. The sound effects that you can find in the manga are indeed the result of this approach.

In an interview given to the Realsound website, you mention the use of the シャワシャワ (“shawa shawa”) sound effect. Knowing that occidental readers are way less sensitive to these graphicoustic details, can you explain its meaning?

“Shawa shawa” expresses the song cicadas make in western Japan. It’s a very special noise because in the different regions live different species that make specific sounds. So when I choose this specific sound effect, I convey a geographic and temporal piece of information to the reader, who can then guess the location and season the action takes place in. (She thinks.) When using this sound – that we especially find in the beginning of the manga – my goal was to play with silence, particularly when the song stops. I thus had the idea of representing this sound effect with an easily readable font, so the reader would make no effort to decipher it, as if the sound was asserting itself naturally, you see? I hoped to suggest a saturation they couldn’t avoid and that, when it’d stop, would immerse them in absolute silence.

The Summer Hikaru Died transcribes very well this particular atmosphere of Japanese summers…

Yes, I really wanted to signify this languor in my manga. And the cicadas’ song we discussed earlier contributes to creating this atmosphere: it’s an overwhelming sound, sometimes irritating, you cannot escape from in summer – Japanese readers obviously know what I’m talking about. (She thinks.) I also gave special attention to shadows: summer light being very bright, shadows are very sharp, very deep.

Do digital tools allow you to get this result more efficiently than traditional?

I work on Clip Studio Paint, and it’s true that it sometimes allow me to save time. Consider the work on shadows: I never apply solid black because I like saturating space with hatches and, with digital tools, I can obtain the desired result faster because I can duplicate each of my lines.

Your use of hatches is sometimes reminiscent of Shūzō Oshimi’s…

I don’t know his mangas very well, but it’s funny that you mention him because I recently read his latest series, Okaeri Alice. In any case, I really like his style and I perfectly understand how you can bring his universe and mine together.

The Summer Hikaru Died relies on the concept of body dispossession, that obviously takes back to the Body Snatcher novel by Jack Finney and its movie adaptations. Did you think about it?

I don’t know this book very well, but I know its theme has been approached often, especially in movies. As I was saying at the beginning of this interview, my idea was to adopt the point of view of a non-human and tell his indecision, his moral questions…

We also find this idea in Hitoshi Iwaaki’s Parasite…

I haven’t read the manga fully, but I’ve watched the anime adaptation that was released a few years ago (R/N: in 2014). I remember rather liking it, even if I think I offer something different with The Summer Hikaru Died. What interests me is sounding the inwardness of my non-human character out and expose all his dilemmas. What is his place amongst men? Is he legitimate in our world? Here is the type of questions that pushed me.

One of the impacting scenes of volume 1 of The Summer Hikaru Died is the one when Yoshiki penetrated Hikaru’s body by shoving his arm into his torso. It’s a sequence that is both very sensuaI – to not say sexuaI – and also very horrific. How did you get this idea?

I wanted to put the readers in an uncomfortable position. A stressful situation that could take several forms because, according to your sensitivity, you can feel very different emotions in front of this scene: sexuaI arousaI, fear or disgust. For me, it was supposed to put the reader in some kind of catatonia, you see?

Do you chat a lot with your tantō, especially around these slightly “complicated” scenes?

I have free rein, you know, I can draw everything I want. My editorial supervisor has never asked me to temper some sexuaIIy connotated parts. My discussions with him don’t revolve around this kind of things, but rather around the structure of the scenario itself: where to place this scene in the narration? Is it better to put this sequence before this other one? Nowadays, I am more at ease with all the scripting layout but, at the beginning, I needed support.

What allows you to get, from a dramatic point of view, the mix between bromance and horror?

I wanted to show the differences in sensitivities and values between a human being and an “other than human”, and tell the misunderstandings this can cause when both meet. When Yoshiki “scratches” under the appearance of the one who is supposed to be his best friend, it creates a first point of conflict in the story. I then hoped to make his relationship with Hikaru – or rather with the “entity” that pretends to embody him – a kind of undefinable bond, that wouldn’t be friendship, nor love.

Do you know today where this strange relationship between your two heroes will lead you?

I know more or less how all of this will evolve, yes. I have decided on my story’s general plot since the beginning. I can only tell you that The Summer Hikaru Died won’t be a long series.

How do you explain the almost instant public plebiscite of your series in Japan? You perhaps cannot have perspective on it but, in a saturated publishing landscape, you have managed to stand out…

Hm… Indeed, I don’t really have precise explanations to give you about this success. Maybe the covers’ design has been in favour of the manga? I asked the person in charge of graphics to make sure that the visuals would be noticeable in bookstores. That’s why the books have this monochrome aspect, with the title discreetly placed. I didn’t want obvious advertisement banners, but something simple, like this blue background for the first volume, on which the character stands out. I also wished to create contrast between the jacket’s and the inner cover’s drawings. I thus had requirements that didn’t quite go alongside what we can nowadays see on the shelves of Japanese bookstores.