The only true voyage of discovery, the only fountain of Eternal Youth, would be not to visit strange lands but to possess other eyes, to behold the universe through the eyes of another, of a hundred others, to behold the hundred universes that each of them beholds, that each of them is…
C. K. Scott Moncrieff trans. of The Prisoner
My sister-in-law [see: Mimi VS Evil Future Sister-in-Law] aka Moana (whom she now thinks of as her “spirit character”) baked my parents some banana bread, which she neatly wrapped up in parchment paper and stuffed into my hands. I forgot what we were doing at my parents’. Cleaning out the garage, maybe? Staring daggers into each other’s backs, maybe…? Just kidding. 🥴
Anyway, she baked them some banana bread, but my parents being diabetic couldn’t eat it, so they foisted it onto me. I drove back to my apartment with it lumping gloomily in the passenger’s seat, and once inside, rested that parchment-wrapped bread on the counter. It sat there beckoning toward me for a few days, before I—eyes darting secretively back and forth—carved out a piece with a butter knife and shoved it hastily into my mouth. Damn it! It was good. TOO good.
When she came over again with my brother to help my parents with something—
Mimi: The bread was pretty good.
Moana (with a smirk): So was the poison I baked into it.
And with that, we settled our differences.
People who wander into our lives sometimes find it difficult to understand the tight-knit relationship my family has. The bond we have comes from a sense of shared trauma. We experienced a kind of waking death. All it really took was for me to step outside of that frame for a few years, and let her mind feel at ease. She needed to know that I wasn’t trying to “turn her husband against her”, and that my parents were allowed to be her parents too.
She and I came to a sort of understanding between us. Something my last ex and I could not.
Well, let’s forget him…
Returning to scanlations—translating again, reading my own translations and cringing badly and wanting to change this or that, staying up late chatting with Swirly, and talking to our readers again—I feel like I’m looking at things with new eyes. I’m remembering how much I truly love the projects we’ve worked on, and how much these authors and their stories have comforted me during the most turbulent times of my life. I think of this as a bit of a turning point for me. My voyage of discovery, so to speak, to regain the initial zeal I had for reading Josei manga.
With that said, I come to you, rather humbly, with a few releases to share.
Vol.2, CH.07: I don’t think you guys understand how much I love Benzo and Soji. While re-reading Vol.1, I kept chuckling at all the dumb shit they said. I mean, come on, Benzo literally gets rolled up into a bamboo mat! But Vol. 2 gets so much deeper, so much darker than I expected…
Vol. 1, CH.03: The admin of Shoujo Hearts has returned, so this is the last chapter we will be helping to release here. Please continue giving lots of love to Miku and the other mysterious residents who visit her at Kyubee! ♡
Vol. 1, CH.02: It’s been so long. Ah, Swirly’s pet project, which kept getting shoved to the wayside. We won’t neglect you for long. I really miss manga about women trying to balance career and their love lives, and I’m actually starting to find Fujii really endearing.
Next month is our anniversary month. I believe it will be our 13th year. We have so many wonderful releases planned for you—Futago’s Finale, Kiyoku Yawaku, 3 AM Terrible Zone, Nina My Love, to name a few—and we hope you’ll come celebrate with us. ♡♡♡