Later volumes of After the Rain‘s Jun Mayuzuki‘s masterful sci-fi mystery romance are impossible to review without massively spoiling earlier volumes, so if you’ve not read the first few installments of Kowloon Generic Romance, be warned. Kowloon Generic Romance is a languid, hypnotic read best consumed without preconceptions by a patient reader willing to succumb to its unhurried pace, prepared to surrender to delicious nostalgia, and hungry to experience a gently tugging undercurrent of existential dread. It’s unlike any other manga I’ve ever read, and I’ll continue to scream from the rooftops about how wonderful it is. With both anime and live-action drama adaptations promised for 2025, now is unquestionably the right time to discover your Absolute Self and read the original first.

The wait for each successive volume is excruciating, for Mayuzuki reveals only small breadcrumbs of backstory, each new morsel more tantalizingly delicious than the last. Volume seven, in particular, provides more development than usual, finally confirming, without ambiguity, that this version of Kowloon is Not Normal. Kujirai’s best friend Yaomay, who is not a Kowloon native, moved to the Walled City six months previously. On her first time leaving Kowloon, she attempts to bring Kujirai with her on a visit to Hong Kong, but Gwen, another outsider, prevents her. He warns that Kujirai can only exist
within the confines of Kowloon and may disappear if she leaves. Understandably, this completely freaks Kujirai out. Further confirming Kowloon’s general wrongness, a visiting pizza courier cannot perceive the city or Kujirai herself.

Yaomay visits Hong Kong alone, confirming that most residents believe Kowloon was demolished. Her claims that it was somehow rebuilt are regarded as little more than fanciful urban legends. On returning to Kowloon, she tries to discuss her existential concerns with Kujirai, but upon ingesting Kowloon food and drink (the origin of which is still distressingly vague), she suddenly forgets her worries and reverts to her gleeful, sunny self. This aspect of Kowloon’s nature is disturbing and echoes Miyuki’s warning to Gwen not to eat or drink anything originating in Kowloon. That’s why Gwen survives on protein bars, vitamin supplements, and bottled water – it stops him from losing his mind. I can’t help but be reminded of the old Greek myth of Persephone’s abduction by Hades – when taken by him to the underworld; she’s tricked into eating pomegranate seeds grown there, forever becoming tied to the land of the dead, resigning herself to becoming Hades’ wife.

Though summer only comes in those few months, Persephone is permitted to leave the underworld; in Kowloon, it’s a perpetual midsummer, with cicadas singing and the sun beating down relentlessly. Yaomay only notices this once she leaves the city, as even the sky changes. What is this strange, ghostly place? Surely the continued presence of the
polyhedral object Gene Terra in the skies above has something to do with it? Is Kowloon some kind of projection? An AI-driven recreation? Something else? Whatever it is, creepy snake-tongued Miyuki’s Hebinuma Pharmaceutical group seems to be implicated and is likely also responsible for the Original Kujirai’s death. Her records state “death by suicide,”
and she was prescribed potent sleeping medications, suggesting self-poisoning as a possibility, but I don’t buy it. The frequent flashbacks of Original Kujirai portray a confident, happy woman full of life and in love with her fiance. Multiple shadowy characters express interest in Kujirai and Kowloon, and the item in common is some kind of secret (probably a drug) linked to the Hebinuma Group. I expect whatever this is will be significant for Mayuzuki’s end game, as important narrative blocks fall into place, even though many mysteries remain as yet unsolved.

While “Generic Kujirai” (as Miyuki now identifies her) and Kudou’s relationship progresses to the next level, despite Kudou’s continued inability to let go of the past, much of these two volumes instead focus on peripheral characters. We learn there are two versions of Xiaohei – one a small female child dressed in Gothic Lolita style, and another a
young, slim, fashion-conscious man who bemoans he can no longer wear dresses since growing up. Girl Xiaohei is clearly a Kowloon resident, while boy Xiaohei is from outside. Normally when an Original enters Kowloon, their “copy” disappears. This can’t happen to Kujirai because her original is dead, and boy Xiaohei openly wonders why girl Xiaohei is
still around. I’m intrigued to discover what’s happening here, especially as Xiaohei’s murky story is mixed in with Miyuki, his unsettling associate Yulong, and the shadowy head of the Hebinuma Group.

Xiaohei isn’t the only character who blurs gender lines. Miyuki Hebinuma is confirmed as intersex, with both male and female sex organs. Although they appear to present as male, internally, they doesn’t identify as either binary sex, and what attracts them to Gwen is that he’s the first partner who hasn’t stressed about whether Miyuki is male or female. It’s a
shame, then, that Miyuki feels they must sacrifice their relationship with Gwen to pursue revenge against their adoptive father somehow. I think this has something to do with using Kowloon to produce “Zirconians,” which might be resurrected versions of dead people? I wonder if they plans to resurrect a copy of their father’s deceased biological son?
Oddly, they state Kujirai isn’t a Zirconian. The clear crystalline form of the mineral zircon is sometimes used as a cheaper, imperfect substitute for diamond in jewelry, a reference that is no doubt deliberate on Mayuzuki’s part.

Generic Kujirai herself is a magnetic protagonist, continuing to forge her own path despite the existential ambiguity of her life in her quest to become her “Absolute Self,” inspiring those around her to do the same. Others comment that she’s not the same as Original Kujirai despite her identical appearance. Although her true identity and nature are the
series’ central mysteries, in a way, she’s solving them herself by becoming the person she wants to be. Will the universe allow her to continue? Threats she knows nothing about are beginning to converge…

The main male lead, Kudou, also remains something of a mystery – he seems less affected by Kowloon’s food and is fully aware of the city’s ephemeral nature. He seems trapped by the past, by his love for his lost Kujirai, at once rejecting Generic Kujirai yet pursuing comfort in her arms. Every moment he spends with her reminds him of what he’s lost, yet
she’s there, in front of him, and he can’t help clinging to her. He’s a tragic character, in a way.

Mayuzuki’s gorgeous art continues to elevate the complex, nuanced, mysterious story. Her style has matured since After the Rain, with more detail in characters and backgrounds – especially obvious in some of her more dramatic single and double-page spreads, the graphic art equivalent of a mic drop. This is a much more adult-focused story than her previous work, and volume 8 finally earns that “Explicit Content” warning with a scene depicting female nudity in a sexual context. It’s still pretty tame, and I’ve still no idea why every other volume is sold sealed.

I find this is a series that rewards reading and re-reading, which is just as well, as I gradually lose a little sanity waiting for each new volume to be published. October 2024 sees the publication of Japanese volume ten, but Mayuzuki’s rate of chapter production on Kowloon Generic Romance has slowed down, with only eleven chapters published in
Weekly Young Jump in 2023 and only ten so far in 2024. While I’m desperate for answers to so many questions, I almost don’t want Kowloon Generic Romance to end. At least I’ll always have nostalgia to entice me back to re-read the whole thing again.