Ever since the day she lost her family, Hinako has felt something consuming her from the inside out. No matter how hard she tries to hide it, she’s an open book to Shiori, who is Hinako’s best hope at escaping the weight of her past…So when the flesh-eating mermaid presses her prey for the truth, Hinako finally spills her heart! Unexpectedly, Shiori responds with encouragement—but even that isn’t enough to stop Hinako’s life from unraveling... “…You really are a monster.”

“I’ve come to eat you.” So softly utters the mermaid Shiori, as she emerges from the sea and takes high school girl Hinako by the hand. Hinako lives alone in a town by the sea, and possesses an unusually delicious body that is irresistible to nearby monsters. To ensure that she matures to the best condition, Shiori seeks to protect Hinako―all so that someday, she can devour every piece of her. What will become of Hinako’s feelings as this looming unjust death closes in on her...?

At age 30, Shou Arai came to a realization; they had no gender. Now they were faced with a question they'd never really considered: how to age in a society where everything is so strongly segregated between two genders? This autobiographical manga explores Japanese culture surrounding gender, transgender issues, and the day to day obstacles faced by gender minorities and members of the LGBTQIA+ community with a lighthearted, comedic attitude.

With nostalgic charm and gentle magic so characteristic of award-winning Sachiko Kashiwaba, The Village Beyond the Mist, which inspired Spirited Away, will captivate and enchant readers of all ages. This timeless and enduring Japanese classic from 1975 served as the inspiration for the beloved Studio Ghibli film, Spirited Away, and ​it's available​ for the first time to English-speaking readers. The story follows Lina, a sixth-grade girl who embarks on a solo train journey to spend the summer in a rural village. However, upon arrival, she discovers that the valley's might not exist! Through a mysterious encounter involving wind, mist, and a magic umbrella, she arrives at a grand house on a cobbled street. As Lina adapts to her new responsibilities around town, she learns more about friendship and herself than she previously thought possible.

Taukiri was born into sorrow. Auē can be heard in the sound of the sea he loves and hates, and in the music he draws out of the guitar that was his father’s. It spills out of the gang violence that killed his father and sent his mother into hiding, and the shame he feels about abandoning his eight-year-old brother to a violent home. But Ārama is braver than he looks, and he has a friend and his friend has a dog, and the three of them together might just be strong enough to turn back the tide of sorrow. As long as there’s aroha to give and stories to tell and a good supply of plasters. Here is a novel that is both raw and sublime, a compelling new voice in New Zealand fiction. Haere mai, Becky Manawatu.

A searing personal account of the so-called troubled teen industry, this graphic memoir exposes and humanizes the harrowing experience of so many young people in behavioral correction facilities. When she was just thirteen years old, Sofia was taken—by two people she had never seen before—to a “therapeutic wilderness program” three states away. Her own mother, terrified that Sofia was spiraling out of control, had enrolled her in an institution for “troubled teens.” But instead of finding healing, Sofia found herself trapped. Trapped inside an unregulated industry that used promises of intervention and reform to prey upon panicking parents and kids with court orders. Over the next two years, Sofia would cycle through four different residential programs. In these places, school hours were a privilege, not a right. Contact with the outside world, including her mother, was strictly monitored. Teenage inmates were encouraged to call one another out. Still a child—ripped from her home, stripped of basic freedoms, and severed from her family and friends—Sofia struggled to understand who she really was beneath the crushing weight of the label BAD KID.   A darkly funny and intimate coming-of-age tale, this graphic memoir exposes the harrowing realities of adolescence in and out of the "troubled teen" industry of the early 2000s. And in doing so, Bad Kid explores the lasting impact of the labels we’re given—and how making art can help transmute them.