Welcome to the inaugural post of my new feature, Manga Cum Loudly. Let’s get one thing straight, right here, right now. I hate anime. I hate manga. I fucking hate it. There’s no hyperbole about this. There’s almost no other medium I hate more with a fiery rage. So, naturally, I decided to jump into it because it’s way more fun to write about what you hate than what you love! If I’ve learned anything from my comic book writing adventure, my engagement in the story is indirectly proportional to the fun I have writing about it. Ergo, this is going to be the most fun I’ve had in decades.

I’m well-versed with Western comics, why not move on to Eastern comics? Gotta keep that mind open, I guess. And since all the manga volumes in the world up to this moment could fill a landfill the size of South America about 4,000 miles high, I’ve got an endless supply of fodder to deal with.

I’m starting with Death Note because it’s supposed to be one of the better ones to introduce a complete nubile newbie to the genre. I really shouldn’t even be bothering, since I graduated 8th grade a long time ago, but here we are. Let’s see where this takes me. I might even end up LIKING manga! Hahahaha!! And please fucking kill me if that ever happens.

Death Note, Vol. 1, Chapter 1
Written by: Tsugumi Ohba
Illustrated by: Takeshi Obata
“Boredom”

Off to a fucking ominous start with a title called “Boredom”. Write this one down, kids. This doesn’t bode well.

Shinigami World! That’s the “God of Death” World! It’s boring there! Nothing but post-apocalyptic wastelands and weird, lumbering scythe-wielding creatures.

Human World! You know that one already. It’s boring there! A teenager sits at his school desk, staring longingly out the window, lamenting the rotten, bullshit world that it is. I hear ya, buddy.

In the Shinigami World, these gods of death play games with human skulls to pass the time. Just like on Earth! One of them gets bored and walks away to “check it out”, whatever “it” is. Possibly the lump on his saggy, god of death testicles.

Two other Shinigami-types continue rollin’ bones and chewin’ bubblegum while this bitchcake saunters off. He’s not gone long, though. Something terrible has happened!

RAWR! It had instructions for how to do a Death on someone!

Shinigami-Face has lost his DEATH NOTE! The end! That was fun.

With no semblance of pacing whatsoever, Shinigami-Face knows immediately that he left in the Human World and he teleports immediately Probably-Tokyo. Flying through the sky above the dense urban landscape, Shinigami-Face proclaims “FROM THE ONE NOTEBOOK LOST IN THE HUMAN WORLD BY THIS SHINIGAMI…THE GRAND BATTLE BETWEEN THE TWO CHOSEN ONES BEGINS.” He looks super dumb with his unblinking eyes and his pointy yellow stank-ass teeth. I could kick this guy’s ass, no kidding.

The bored kid in class is named Yagami Raito. He’s 17 years old, which means he gets frequent embarrassing classroom boners, but now he’s not in the classroom having boners. He’s on public transportation of some sort, like an Elon Musk bullet train, and he spots a strange notebook on the beach as he throws a glazed stare out the window. He gets off the train and makes haste! “It’s all in English. What a pain…” he says, translated to English by some hyperactive 11-year-old kid so that privileged white-toast adult people like me can “enjoy” Death Note manga. Thumbing through the mysterious black notebook, Raito recognizes the words “death” and “note”, so we’ve pretty much cracked the code here.

“Ha ha ha. ‘The human whose name is written in this notebook shall die.’” Raito chuckles to himself. Crazy stuff! I think my seven aunts forwarded this email to me this morning! But, his chuckling days are over, because he spends the wee hours of the night poring over the thin, flimsy notebook. It’s full of very specific death rules, like “After writing the cause of death, details of the death should be written in the next 6 minutes and 40 seconds” and “After performing a nasty death deed, the death deed doer must hop on one foot until Portugal sinks into the Atlantic Ocean”.

Finally, at about 11:30 the next morning, Raito retires to his bed, amused by the elaborate prank he discovered.

“Heh. So you can make the person die peacefully or make them suffer,” he says, entertaining the idea of torturing his numerous swathes of enemies. He doesn’t sleep. He’s thinking a lot about this.

“Death if you write the name, eh?” he thinks. Now we’re talkin’, baby! Write that name!

Eh. Maybe later.

Cut to five days later. Disgruntled Raito comes home to his beaming mother. “Wow! Ranked 1st in the country on the national scholastic practice exam!” she cries after he hands her a piece of paper. Easy there, mom. The practice exam had questions like “is the sky up?” and “how many apples in a thing?”, so everyone got 100% and was ranked #1. “I’m going to study, so don’t bother me,” Raito says icily as he ascends the staircase. Mother’s gonna be the first to die.

Yes, top-notch pornography. Thanks for noticing.

Raito giggles at this flimsy notebook like it has the best knock knock joke in the world scrawled in it. “Looks like you’re enjoying it,” says a voice behind him.

AND IT’S A BIG, BUG-EYED SHINIGAMI! TWO INCHES FROM RAITO’S FACE! HOLY SHIT! HIS BREATH SMELLS LIKE ONIONS AND BABOON SEMEN! …and a hint of nutmeg? Ooooh, fancy.

The bug-eyed monster introduces himself to Raito, quite politely, as Shinigami Ryuuku. Nice book, huh? It belongs to him, but he seems tickled that Raito has spent a lot of time with it already.

Raito is freaking the fuck out, but just for a second. He regains composure and starts to assert his conversational dominance over this Shinigami asshole. “I’m not surprised, Ryuuku. I’ve been waiting for you, Shinigami,” he smiles a wry smile. The wry smile of a 17-year-old kid with yet another barely-furtive boner in his pants.

“I’ve already accepted the Death Note as real, but…seeing things for myself gives me more confidence in my actions.”

So sit down, dude! Raito’s got a lot of questions for ya. Pull up a chair, get comfy. Want a scone? They’re my mother’s recipe, pity I’m gonna have to kill her for being so nice, I’m afraid!

Raito presents the beast with pages FILLED with names. Names just spilling over, good gravy sir, so many names. Now Ryuuku is the surprised one! “I’ve heard many stories of the Death Note falling to the human word, but you’re the first one to do this much in only 5 days,” the Scaramouche (close enough) tells the child. A normal person would be “freaked out” to go this far, but you, son. You’ve got balls of steel. STAINLESS steel! The kind of steel that doesn’t corrode easily. Uncorrodable balls, my friend.

This sociopath is prepared for what’s next. So what is it? Selling a soul? Hazing rituals? All-you-can-eat breakfast? “Huh?” the bug-eyed dunce responds, “Wild human imagination? I won’t do anything to you,” Ha! That’s a rip-off, right? Damian over here wants to start eating skeleton bones by sundown.

“Once the Death Note lands in the human world, it belongs to that world. It’s yours now,” says Ryuuku with an air of “better you than me” in his assuredly raspy voice. If he doesn’t want it, then toss it to some other mope. This Shinigami doesn’t give two shits! Just let him know if you do, ok, so he can, like, erase your mind. Or whatever.

Conveniently, since Raito was the only human to use the Death Note, he’s now the only human who is able to see and hear Ryuuku. The document now serves as the bond between these two chums! This is great news, because now he can hang around like the Great Gazoo for the next 107 chapters.

“So there’s really no price for using the Death Note?” asks Raito, padding this chapter out with unnecessary unskippable tutorials. This is where I realize Ryuuku is basically fully clad in leather, studs, and buckles like a BDSM Judas Priest fan trying to scare grandma. He tells Raito no, not really, except stress and guilt and other piddling human emotions.

Just to be clear, when YOU die, Raito, Ryuuku’s getting that book back, and YOUR name’s going in that book. ALSO…

Only… Wyoming!

Obviously, Ryuuku intended a more dramatic effect here. They stare at each other for a bit. Ryuuku’s face kind of falls when he realizes this punk really isn’t scared. In fact, he’s bold enough to ask even more fuckin’ questions. “Why did you choose me?” Raito, ever the inquisitive scamp. Pffft, look kid, you’re nothing special. Ryuukukukuuuku just lost the thing, ok? It ended up where it ended up, and you happened to be at the right place at the right time.

“THEN WHY DID YOU DROP IT?” Raito hollers. And this winged beast simply tells him that he was bored.

*Hint: That’s a reference to the name of the chapter right there! Shhhh, don’t tell.*

I mean, look at this! Bob Saget. Louie Anderson. Meat Loaf. Naomi Judd. Gilbert Gottfried. Taylor Hawkins. Ooooh, Billie Eilish. That’s bold, kid.

Ryuuku decides to start spilling about the woes of being a Shinigami in these trying times! All you ever do is sleep or gamble! Once in a while, you write a few human names in a Death Note, but that loses its luster after about 200,000 years or so. No fun, no fun.

So…heh heh…it sounded more fun to hang out on Earth for a bit, you know? Maybe you could show me around? I’ve heard good things about Brazilian steakhouses!

Raito admits that he’s been bored too. That’s why he wrote down all those names. Sounded like fun!

Later, Raito writes what I can only assume is his 14,000th name in the Death Note when he suddenly takes pause. “Hold on…” the brainiest genius who ever lived begins, “if it actually does work, am I a murderer?” Hey now, kid, let’s not start feeling guilty all of a sudden! Maybe he can do some good with this! Now he gets thinking…he turns on the news, which shows some 42-year-old dipshit named Otoharada Kurou holding seven kids hostage in a pre-school. His name is conveniently displayed on the TV, ripe for rewriting in a Death-like Note…

Per the rules, this dick is supposed to have a heart attack 40 seconds after his name is penned in the book, but nothing happens! Oh well, time to call it quits on the– WAIT! Raito checks the TV! The hostages are coming out! The buttfucker keeled over and died out of nowhere! Crazy stuff! According to the hostages, he just collapsed! Then the hostages were like “Cool, we’re not hostages anymore.”

I’ll show YOU “cram school”, Mother.

Raito is skeptical. Must be a coincidence. Gotta try it again, just to make sure. BUT, his thoughts are interrupted by his cloying mother to tell him that it’s “time for his cram school”, which sounds aggressively sexual. Time’s a-ticking, and Raito is compelled to write some random name down, but thinks better of his wild impulses and settles on finding another criminal to slaughter instead. But, ugh, what if they’re too famous? Then the news won’t report it for a while! (?)

At Cram School, Raito contemplates killing one of his annoying classmates. What’s the harm in that? He’d be doing the student body a huge favor! All this daydreaming during class is making Professor Angry Teacher pretty livid, so he throws a piece of chalk at Raito’s head and tells him to get his ass back to Earth. It doesn’t happen.

Walking home from school, Raito listens to everyone’s inane chatter on the streets as he makes his way through downtown. “I start to think the world would be better off without all of them,” he says to himself, and FINALLY, something I can really relate to! At long last, an easy answer to his WHO-SHOULD-I-ANNIHILATE problem presents itself in the form of a greasy leather-clad piece of shit on a motorcycle who rides up next to a woman and starts harassing her. He introduces himself by giving away his full name loud enough for Raito to hear! He even repeats it! So fuck this guy, he’s going down. Raito writes his name in the Deathiest of Notes.

Raito bides his 40 seconds of time while the situation escalates. The woman starts trying to run away, the biker shithead starts chasing her down on his “hog” as the kids say. Once time is up, Raito observes with bated breath. “WHAT WILL HAPPEN?” he cries out to himself with giant stupid manga eyes.

Here’s what happens: this guy gets creamed in the intersection by a semi-truck.

Raito is like “HUBABAHU!! HABUU!NA! HAUB!UHABAH!B!”.

Kekekekekekeke ^______^

This little murderer flees the sccene of the crime. He looks like Charlie Brown, just all wide-eyed and anxious. “I’ve killed two people…” he ruminates while meandering through the streets. “What should I do…?”

That first guy, Mr. Hostage Situation, surely he deserved to die, right? I mean, the bowl cut freak was asking for it! OK, that’s a load off my mind. But Mr. Motorcycle Dickhead, he didn’t deserve to die, right? Well, did he have children in his basement? Possibly! Let’s go with that.

Maybe Raito should get rid of this notebook. He’s already losing it. He’s got a taste for blood now, and it’s orgasmically delicious! Plus, now he’s like a superhero of sorts: ridding the world of evil can be his life’s calling! OK, now we’re talking. Let’s keep playing God and fuck the consequences! What’s for dinner?

Yeah, you do that, Sparky.

Later in his bedroom, Raito pals around with his newest buddy Ryuuku. Swappin’ stories, talkin’ ‘bout boys, that kind of thing. Even though the kid has lost about 10 pounds in the last week from stress and anxiety, he maintains his stance on his self-appointed Person Killer Extraordinaire for the Greater Good or Whatever.

Ryuuku is like “Why aren’t you writing the cause of death, you corner-cutting little twerp?”, and Raito is like “Because then it’s always a heart attack, dumbass. It’s like a dang calling card!”

And then here’s the part where the universal manga/anime trope begins: Raito wants to become the most powerful force on Earth. “I’m going to make the world aware of my existence. That there is someone passing down judgment!!” Ugh, to what end? Do you think that’s going to impress the girls? Do you think that’ll buy you a handjob in the alley behind Taco Bell?

Even Ryuuku looks really stunned, and he always looks sort of stunned. Raito continues: “And I will build a world of only kind-hearted people I accept,” He smiles like the Zoloft kicked in. “Then you’ll be the only bastard left…” Ryuuku solemnly whispers, maybe. I like to imagine he can whisper through that frozen pointy-toothed mug of his.

Raito is beaming. He’s like a kid in a candy store (if by “candy store” I actually mean “murderous rampage”). “I will be THE GOD OF THIS NEW WORLD!” he declares with fire in his eyes. Now Ryuuku is fucking lit, man. “I knew it! Humans are…so much fun!” he cries with over-exaggerated fiery anime glee. Only 107 more chapters left! Seems like the story’s fucking done to me. Kid becomes God, yawn. Go home.

Meanwhile, “in another country” as it were, an emergency interpol meeting is being held to address the sudden surge of dead criminals. 52 just this week alone. All from heart attacks. It’s like, what the fuck?

Raito smiles. It’s starting to get more interesting.

Final Thoughts

17-year-old me wouldn’t want to be caught dead reading this, but here we have it: the very first manga chapter I have ever read in my life.

And let me tell you, if I wasn’t inclined to write about it, I wouldn’t even bother at all!

Thanks for reading. Sorry to subject you to this!