I’ve said in past reviews that the general societal conservatism of Japan makes it a fool’s errand to seek out good LGBT representation in media. Well, this manga proved me wonderfully wrong.

Shimanami Tasogare is a slice of life drama, but interestingly enough, the first chapter is framed almost as a mystery with some supernatural elements. These elements quickly fade once our protagonist, a gay high schooler who’s deathly afraid of being outed, discovers a tucked-away community of LGBT people. They come in all walks of life, from an middle schooler questioning their gender identity to an elderly gay couple. This should be a generally happy manga, a story of self-acceptance even with some bumps along the road, but the initial framing renders it permanently bittersweet. By presenting the Cat Clowder organization with an air of supernatural mystery as previously mentioned, the mangaka establishes it as escapism rather than realism. If I’m reading the subtext right, this is meant to depict how LGBT communities can be so hard to find that one might as well just treat them as a fantasy, which is pretty depressing. This feeds back into the plot, with our main character desiring love and validation but being too scared of himself and society to pursue his true self.

When I say that Shimanami Tasogare’s organization is an LGBT community, I really mean all of it. Going into this manga blind, I expected it to be about gay men and maybe women. I was pleasantly surprised to find out that Cat Clowder included all sorts of LGBT people, including bisexuals and trans people. There’s even a discussion about asexuality later on, which I never thought I’d see in any media.

Since this is quickly becoming my defining flourish, it’s time for some trans character analysis (In this paragraph I’ll go into some spoilers for the second volume). For once, this manga fares really well with its transgender representation! There’s a trans man who’s not explored too much but I’m glad is there, and a closeted trans girl in middle school who much of the second volume focuses on. Junior high is a terrible time no matter what, and trying to sort through your gender issues then may actually make things worse. This character is scared of going through male puberty, but doesn’t quite have the agency or security to come out as a trans girl. She talks to the main character at large about these anxieties and feels pained every time she has to gender herself or make a conscious choice about identity presentation. Near the end of her arc she finally musters up the courage to present as female and wear a yukata during a festival. This ultimately doesn’t go too well, and a few panic attacks later she flees and stops coming to the lounge for a while, and by extension stops dressing as a girl. All the characters end up concluding that they simply pushed her too fast and that now wasn’t the right time, but that she’d come back and figure herself out sometime later. This may sound like a depressing conclusion, but it’s a devastatingly accurate one, at least for me. When I was in high school, I started questioning my gender identity for the first time, but the lack of resources and self-agency made me give up and repress all those thoughts. It took until the relative freedom of college for me to finally come to terms with myself and start transitioning. Shuuji’s arc may not have been cleanly resolved in canon, but just like me, one day she’ll be able to come to terms with herself.

There’s an interesting dynamic at play with Cat Clowder being a demolition and construction organization. I read it as a metaphor for reconstructing personal identity, which is a sweet touch. In addition to character development and drama, there’s usually some big project to move the plot forwards as well, not to mention characters having to juggle their school and work lives as well.

I haven’t talked about Anonymous at all, the mysterious patron of this whole community, who funds their projects and gives them safe spaces to exist. There’s not too much to say about her, other than that I think she’s a nice role model to look up to. If I had time and money on my hands, I too hope that I would act as the maintainer of a big space for all my friends to hang out in if they’re having trouble.

Overall, even across cultural bridges, Shimanami Tasogare’s characters and their anxieties are extremely relatable, and it’s one of the most accurate depictions of LGBT identity in a country and medium that so often distort it. If you’re queer or think you might be, this is a must-read, and it’s a validating journey. Even if you’re not, it’s still a moving character drama and I cannot recommend it enough. We need many more stories like this.