Sometimes you can only under events in hindsight. You might only be able to appreciate how far you’ve come by looking backwards. You might have lived through something that shaped you in ways you couldn’t comprehend in the moment, but became a valued life experience. Only once you’ve walked down your chosen path can you look back and see where you have come from. Or understand that you were on a journey at all. You might have been close to somebody who wasn’t who you wanted them to be. And maybe you can look back and see that you were too hard on yourself.
Choujin X is a series about being able to make these reflections. As Tokio Kurohara’s listless journey begins it can feel confusing and chaotic. People appear very briefly before disappearing for hundreds of pages. These supposedly profound friendships are often unexplored. His suffering his often comical yet other times agonising. His grasp on events is tenuous to say the least. But as things progress, you can’t understand the shape of things. Once you hit that boundary, everything falls into place. And with clarity, turn around and see exactly how the road led up to this point. Though for Tokio more about finding the perfect position for a Birdseye view.
Sui Ishida gained international acclaim with his exceedingly popular series Tokyo Ghoul. Though successful, the stress Ishida was under during Ghoul’s run had a disastrous effect on his health and creative output – a common problem in the manga industry. Fortunately, he was able to rest and recover before he was well enough to begin Choujin X in 2021. A benefit to manga publishers experimenting with digital distribution is that a series doesn’t have to necessarily fit a publication schedule. Ishida’s output is very consistent in terms of raw page count, a new volume of Choujin X releases every 4 months in Japan, but how he releases each chapter is up to him. Some are short, some are broken into parts and others are 100 pages long with no set schedule for when his next chapter comes out. Every chapter in this series is exactly what Sui Ishida wanted to draw at that time. And he is working on what he wants whenever he wants.
This more relaxed creative approach is reflected in the overall story. The initial chapter has local hero Azuma Higashi get into some serious trouble alongside protagonist and tagalong Tokio Kurohara. There world is one where ordinary humans are living in the shadow of war and crime committees and fought by the Choujin (超人). The term Choujin is the Japanese term for ‘Ubermensch’ as outlined by German philosopher, Frederick Nietzsche. As the Choujin are not just superpowered humans but also following (and in many cases breaking) their own sets of rules and moral codes that set them apart from the norm. When Azuma is almost killed in a Choujin attack, he and Tokio make a desperate gamble to become Choujin themselves by using an unknown street drug to awaken powers and defend themselves. Azuma’s shot is a dud but Tokio successfully transforms into a masked beast strong enough to pommel their assailant.
With nobody able to help the newly awakened Vulture Choujin grow his old face back Tokio will have to chart his own course without Azuma’s guidance as the world’s most codependent meta-human horror. People familiar with Ishida’s previous ghoulish and self-proclaimed tragedy may be shocked to learn this is mainly played for comedy. While he is afraid; most of Tokio’s time here is spent with his fumbling attempts to skip class, go to the supermarket without getting seen and talking to pigeons. Even when he is almost eaten by a pretty lady it is played as a joked that he is so incredibly gullible for missing all the clear hints she was also a Choujin. A comedy further reenforced by Nari Tsumuji, the snake Choujin, spending a lot of time building up to the reveal she is three times faster than a normal snake. Something that is almost certainly a joke about how the nemesis of Mobile Suit Gundam is most noteworthy for being three times faster. Ishida puts his main character through a living nightmare to build up to a punchline. It’s when Tokio crosses paths with Ely Ota, another newly awakened Choujin out to save his neck, does his situation change when he’s brought to an organisation that helps Choujin adjust during their troublesome awakenings; Yamato Mori.
Tokio could at this point be brought into the fold is the new rookie member of an elite task force designed to protect people from dangerous Choujin. Instead, despite his powers and occasional bouts of life-threatening danger, Tokio has no great calling or moral compulsion to uses powers for anything. He is free to muddle through his daily life and slowly decide what is best for him. Leading to a lot of self-doubt about his goals and value. Compounded by his growing friendship with Ely as she is taking the bull by the horns and showing great determination and competence as a Choujin while Tokio is still figuring out how to eat with a beak.
This style of slow and unfocused story craft is a double-edge sword as Ishida perfects his approach. Volume One is poor as a result. It is important for Ishida as a statement of intention. An extensive comedy segment that lets him flexes artistic muscles through experimentation with different styles and letting the audience know that he won’t be simply remixing things from Tokyo Ghoul. It did not need to be 50 pages long. Nor did it need to focus on characters who immediately disappear, and have no relevance for a good chunk of the story. Tokio wandering around town, failing to achieve anything, trying to find a direction could have also been cut down substantially. With the second volume achieves better results as his life stabilises and draws possibilities out Tokio’s indecisive attitude.
The majority of the confusion readers will experience in this series is fully intentional. A core component of this coming-of-age drama is the idea of young people interfering interfacing with a full adult world they don’t fully grasp. There are conflicts that have been raging for decades over disagreements and betrayals that have shaped everyone’s lives beneath their notice. Only for Tokio to find them dumped in his lap with no idea of Frame of reference for what he should do about them. It is a slow build as disparate plot threads slowly build, and build beneath your nose until the author finally pulls back the curtain and shows you exactly what he’s been working towards. And with enough unaddressed questions to create a sense of dread that things have started to go terribly wrong without the characters realising it.
There are other occasions where it feels like Sui Ishida just isn’t able to present the information in a coherent or interesting fashion. Yamato Mori’s leader, a bedridden woman named Master Mado who can predict the future, is vitally important to understand in the wider story. This is communicated through passing mentions and a lengthy expositional monologue rather than her, making any direct appearances until much later. The perfect example is Chandra Hume being the most prominent villain of the first few chapters, acting like a truly ridiculous man capable of horrible crimes, before exiting the story with no fanfare. He is replaced by masked doctor with no clear indication for what either of these antagonist want to accomplish. The dynamic is actually very simple. Hume and the masked man are connected, but deliberately avoid working with each other so there’s no evidence connecting them for investigators to discover. Fully straightforward, but the execution is needless jumbled. Other characters, like the teachers the Mori leadership brings in to help teach their rookie’s the fundamentals are left intentionally and cheekily underdeveloped. There’s no point in giving these characters a lot of personality, right? This is the part of the story where the main casts personal interactions are going to be driving the story so access details of unimportance figures is just a waste of space. However, this type of thinly sketch characterisation negatively impacts Maiko; who would theoretically be one of the most prominent members of the supporting cast as she’s always involved yet she bare gets any attention over the first 8 volumes.
In many other cases, though, you can learn to appreciate this style. Azuma completely disappearing from Tokio’s life despite their bond being integral at the start works much better when you understand where his story is going. That it is a way of examining Tokio’s codependent attitude by forcing him into isolation. There is a good reason why Yamato Mori is so tightlipped about the enemy faction they’re fighting. And the enemy does have a legitimately compelling motivation behind their monstrous actions. All of these factors effect Tokio’s life and get him and his friends in a lot of trouble while also keeping them far away from their actual sources of the danger. It’s a disconnect that is ultimately very worthwhile when things finally click into place. And there’s a very firm signs of adolescence frustration. These are all problems created by adults that they have to deal with while. Also still fumbling to understand what is actually being done to them.
With very little concrete direction the main cast are allowed to walk into various cul-de-sacs and small stories as they get a bette understanding of each other. Simon begins as an obnoxious and condescending senior. But after a few volumes, getting to know Tokio personally and suffering some punishing setbacks of his own, he beings to change his tune. Not because of any dramatic outside influence, but because he’s realising that he needs to handle this better. The initial friction of Ely’s blunt affectation and confidence with Tokio’s directionless and timid insecurities eventually builds to a partnership between two rookies who know they can rely on each other when danger finally comes.
And when danger does arrive it is often great. There’s sense that these are genuinely titanic powerful figures when Ishida decides its time for it. Core to the series is the idea that Choujin of any kind can be a danger. As their powers are often born out of abstract obsessions they’re fixing take many different forms. A phenomenon best illustrated in Volume 2’s Sinker arc, where former baseball player Tezuya Shiozaki awakens his powers out of sheer desperation. Combining his fears with his pitching style results in his ability being localised gravity manipulation. And as the story progress as he goes from a slight nuisance to feeling like a walking natural disaster as Yamato Mori’s experienced keepers are overwhelmed by his obtuse and evolving power. A trend that ends up being one of the series strongest points is that any Choujin can be a serious threat depending on their circumstances. This means that even if somebody is defeated early on they can make a comeback as a dangerous opponent without needing to contrive a reason for them to be more powerful. Snake lady Nari Tsumuji might be defeated when taken by surprise but her ability to generate hundreds of venous snakes ensure she is just as good at ambushing prey. This means even as arcs pass and characters are defeated you never get the impression they have become fully irrelevant. As Ishida presents these battles as down-to-the-wire brawls where victory is down to a sudden close call. He is never closing future possibilities down.
All of this fits with Tokio Kurohara as a leading man. Tokyo Ghoul was framed as a tragedy where poor sap Ken Kaneki was crushed over and over until he shaped himself into whatever survival demanded of him. Tokio’s daily malaise might have looming threat on the horizon, but he has good days and bad days but when Tokio finally commits himself to a course of action it is because he has committed to it of his own will instead of solely relying on external pressure. He’ll panic in a crisis or ruminate on his ennui but never feels like he’s resigned to fate. His biggest fault in the beginning being indecision over choice paralysis. Something that causes himself and his own people around him a great deal of frustration as time goes on. Including quite humorously, the main villain of the entire series. When they reveal themselves and provide a clear exclamation for their motives for fighting against Yamato Mori they are completely gobsmacked by Tokio’s timid refusal to condemn or validate their perspective. The entire plot comes to a screeching halt as he makes the heroic decision to not make a decision without going home and consulting others to ensure he has a well-reasoned and informed opinion on the situation. As he grows more confident that ends up being his greatest strength. Tokio Kurohara is aware that he has multiple options and that awareness leads him to be more open-minded about ways he could help or try to improve the situation. Which is very optimistic for a horror fantasy series and allows Ishida’s oddball humour is allowed to breathe.
In short, Tokio is a superhero even if he does not realise it. Someone who spends so long agonising over what decisions he should make and if he can pull it off. But when it comes times he will commit himself to a course of action and take accountability for it. When he finally hits the boundaries of the complete chaos going on around him, the veil is lifted and he can now have truly understand what he should be doing. Even when given the opportunity to back out it’s too late. The knowledge of what has been going on beneath his nose, what will continue to happen without him, and where it could go without him getting involved, is too much to ignore. Tokio Kurohara is a humble young man who has realised the world is on his shoulders. It took him ages to realise it and he still doesn’t understand his real value to the world. But vultures can fly higher than any other bird. And with his black wings he’ll be able to soar to greater heights and see an angle on events that everyone has missed in their narrow-focus. It’s only when he looks backwards can he understand how far he’s come. It’s only now that he’s fully committed to the journey does he realise how much further he has to go. And he can no longer shirk away from injustice or cower in the face of conflict.
Choujin X is still ongoing at time of writing. While it has serious hiccups in how Ishida has structure of the story he is still doing great work. Sometimes his atypical pacing and scattershot approach stumbles. But if you found the series confusing or discounted it after a lacklustre opening it is worth a second try. It eventually does coalesce into a big picture of a city at war. And once the story reaches that point (when Tokio actually constructs a giant conspiracy board with red string detailing the major players) you’ll look back on it and be shocked by how straightforward it is and how easy to follow it is. And maybe you’ll appreciate it as these characters fully realise who they can be. And who they have been this whole time.