This LN is going to be absolutely balls to write about (in a bad way), so I might as well start by posting a bunch of notes for each volume.
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Notes
Vol. 1
- The story is just as creative, vivid, and visceral as I remember it back when I first read it.
- The characters have yet to make much of an impression yet, as they are all either one-dimensional or just nuts at this point. Especially Kazuki and Maria: nuts.
- I'm not too big of a fan of mystery because I don't like to be led around by the nose only to get a whoopie "Gotcha!" by the author. I think the mystery is done really well here though. Getting into Maria and Kazuki's head as they desperately claw their way through all this nonsense is really engaging.
- Slight catch though, the transition from suspecting Kokone to outright revealing batshit Kasumi is...err...kind of strange. There is certainly the shock factor (and the goddamn imagery), but at the same time, the change of pace caught me a bit off guard. Maybe that's the point, but it feels a little odd to me.
- The overall suspense and thrill factor of HakoMari is really, really strong. I attribute this to the excellent pacing and the powerful presentation.
- My favorite scene is probably the dramatic climax: end-of-the-world sequence where the characters are swallowed into the eerie imagery of Kasumi's box, Kasumi and Kazuki have their touching exchange, and darkness peels away to pure white. What imagery!
- Another one is when Kazuki peered into Maria's box. That description of despair is fantastic. Hakomari's capability of using imagery to portray extreme feelings is terrifying.
- This author definitely understands dramatic delivery very well. It's amazing that I can feel for Kasumi and Kazuki's bond even though I've only been acquainted to Kasumi's character for maybe 20 pages and their whole notion of love is twisted and kind of fake.
- I hope that there are more worthwhile relationships farther down the line, because while I have complete confidence in HakoMari's delivery, I also fear that it'd be something like Aiyoku no Eustia where the end result isn't really about character attachment, but character respect. I prefer attachment.
Vol. 2
Oh Christ. I don't know, but it's getting increasingly difficult to evaluate Hakomari. I don't appreciate my emotions being toyed with, yet it's exactly what Hakomari does best, and it's also completely intentional and arguably meritorious. There are quite a few moments within this volume when I feel disturbed by the writing, and try to rationalize it in some sort of criticism against the work, yet I can't do it. For one, I'm not exactly an expert on mystery, let alone something like Hakomari. Hakomari is so far away from what I usually experience from stories that I'm having a great deal of trouble forming any basis of argument for criticism. Is the mystery well written? Well, I do know that it captures my attention and dangles me by a thread, but aside from quality of experience, there's not much more I can comment about it.
The thing is, my basis for criticism of any work stems from an intuitive: "I don't like where this went" feeling. Everything else, including all the analysis and critiquing terms I slap onto my evaluation, is just a rationalization of said negative sentiment. Yet upon reflection, I don't actually remember much from this volume of Hakomari. The experience is much like a dream: blurred, fragmented, and only leaving some sentiment at the end. The sentiment is not all positive, but I have nothing to say about the negative points.
Much of what I said about the first volume continues to hold, however. The characters are still very indistinct, possessing very little individuality outside of their circumstantial reactions, to the point where it feels like they are mere puppets being dragged along a powerful script. The presentation, while not as ballsy as last time, still impresses with rock solid pacing and intensity. Somehow, even while I don't think I give a crap about the characters, particularly Kazuki and Maria, the stakes of conflict are still very real, real to the point where I feel like I'm the one being attacked by these series of absolutely ludicrous and unfair events, that I'm the one being toyed by O. This volume didn't really succeed in getting me to sympathize well with the offending party with the box, but the themes relating to perception of 'self' are still nailed down with incredible detail and weight.
Overall, I'd claim that Volume 1 is better, but Volume 2 is no slouch of a work on its own. It retains most of what makes Hakomari an exceptional work, and I hope for the best with what's to come matching my sky high expectations for it.
Vol. 3
Volume 3 is an asshole. A giant asshole of baiting and rage-inducing frustration and will-shattering constipation. That last remark doesn't even make sense, and I don't give a fuck.
The plot setup reminds me of the variety of medieval-themed board games where you get assigned a class and have to somehow win the game by way of misdirection and bluff. Masquerade's one of my favorites. Anyways, the point is that Hakomari turns this whole thing into a brutal death game type thing, and as per usual, hangs you in the utter dark for quite a while until the author's satisfied and decides to let you in on some reveals. Until then, enjoy the gut-wrenching rollercoaster of screen-smashing frustration as characters do shit that makes you want to lose your faith in humanity even though these are goddamn fictional characters. Oh, but rest assured, the way the Eiji Mikage writes his shit pretty much ensures that you'll leave the work thinking "wow, that was good" and instantly forgiving the story like some twisted case of reader's Stockholm syndrome. But I'm stronger than that. I will keep my dignity, my rage. I am better than this Mikage bastard. But really, this is really good, and I'm looking forward to seeing Kazuki defeat Daiya's box, and reveal Daiya's motivations behind all this shit.
Oh right, I also forgot to mention that my favorite sequence of scenes from this volume has to be Kazuki's disturbing as fuck middle school backstory, followed by that ridiculous moment he shares with Yuuri. Like wow, talk about some broken-beyond-repair kids.
Vol. 4
And the game proceeds onward. The game itself and the resolution of it all is quite satisfying. On the other hand, I'm not quite sold on Yuuri's 'heartwarming' makeup with Iroha, and I think the base problem stems from the premise that we're dealing with two extreme psychopaths. The good ol' "extreme situations brought it out of them" excuse doesn't really work when their capabilities of manipulation and murder are so far out of the norm that it's frankly terrifying. "Heartwarm" doesn't suit Hakomari's characters because they're all nutcrack eccentrics that I wouldn't be able to sympathize or empathize with in a million years. Pity, however, is something that works. Volume 1's conclusion evokes that of pity. Volume 2's conclusion evokes that of pity. Similarly, even the fucking irredeemable asshole Koudai Kamiuchi can end his note on a level of pity. But Yuuri and Iroha? Yikes. Hakomari going into the soft territory of positive character relationship developments doesn't work for me, not for these psycho characters, as much as I would normally love that sort of thing.
This is also where I start suspecting a limit in what Hakomari can achieve in terms of its characters. Certainly, it's true that Hakomari only characterizes through extreme situations, and as a result, its characters also understandably take on extreme convictions and traits. Such extremities themselves do not bar a character from feeling relatable or "human" however; for example, White Album 2 characters torment over the idea of everlasting love to borderline inhumane levels, and Setsuna in particular has certain traits that make her fantastic, or even alien. But there's still plenty about their behavior that makes them feel like they are human, in such a way that you can really understand them if you put yourself in their shoes, under their curse of love.
I cannot say the same for Hakomari's characters. To me, they feel much more like the very embodiment of their special ideal/trait rather than a human being possessing such ideal/trait. I don't have much concrete grounds to claim why, but that I have a very difficult time understanding them, seeing them as human beings, or seeing them as real, if that makes any sense. I can't make myself get behind their way of thinking, and while they do display aspects of 'being human' through their various flaws, faults, and insecurities, that alone doesn't make them seem any more real to me. Intuitively, it's as if all I can view them as, are the puppets of Eiji Mikage's grand play. Nothing more. I'm not implying that the author necessarily failed at what he's supposed to do because of this disconnect, but it certainly alienates me from Hakomari in terms of emotional investment.
Of course, the above is but a suspicion at this point, not a finalized judgement. It's just that I simply cannot believe that the author can reverse my opinion on this subject unless some miracle occurs. All the better if that miracle occurs. I hope to be wrong again, as I've been proven wrong about Hakomari several times each volume.
As for the character consequences of this volume, it's nice to note that Kazuki and Daiya's characters have been further solidified by the various revelations, and hopefully Maria will quit taking a backseat with the following volumes. Kazuki and Maria's dynamic is reminding me very heavily of Homura and Madoka's at this point. One who just has to give herself to the world, and the other who fights furiously against the wishes of the former, trampling on said wishes, to save her. Always an interesting dynamic to explore, no doubt.
Oh, and one final concern. Hakomari's happy slice-of-life jig has been bothering me for quite a while now. Juxtaposed with the brutal conflicts of the rest of the novel, the whole clichéd romantic comedy thing going on is so out-of-place that I have to assume that it's intentional. It feels similar to Shigatsu's bipolar nature, as if a harbinger of doom for the everyday life that Kazuki so desperately tries to protect. Shame on the author if he doesn't take advantage of this unsettling sense of peace, which I have no doubt he will. Perhaps everything is fake. Kazuki's insane. The dream is collapsing.
Vol. 5
- Hakomari strikes me as a dream world where the characters don't actually give a fly about, well, high school and going to college. It seems like they're placed in the high school setting out of convenience, but the way they act seems like this 'box' issue takes precedence over anything else in their life by far. Not too surprising, but also a bit...dream-like? This doesn't feel like a consistent reality. One has to wonder what the heck they're living for at this point. They don't seem to think about anything else of importance.
- Same thing with the bizarre scene of dozens of people groveling over Daiya's shadow, and no one so much as acts to question such a scene? No police involved with all these strange incidents? Again, this world does not seem consistent with reality; it's as if the entire setting of Hakomari itself is just the insides of a box, perhaps O's box.
- I'm getting the distinct feeling that characters are being deliberately dehumanized now. Characters just being used left and right like tools, and nothing really to catch a break. It also doesn't help that the entire subject matter has devolved to the ugliness of human nature. This is not exactly a topic that I'm particularly fond of being hammered with.
- Not to mention that Daiya's enjoying this a little too much. His arrogance is revolting. I'm now rooting for Kazuki just because it seems like the lesser of two evils. (I still consider Kazuki highly questionable because his goal has no moral bounds to it, and can instantly turn ugly given the situation.)
- I didn't sign up to read a conflict between two characters that are becoming increasingly ugly. This is starting to give me the G-Senjou vibes of "why should I care about any of this they all suck."
- The difference between this volume and all the volumes before it is that the conflict is initiated by our main characters rather than by some outside force. My engagement of the story, and my tolerance of the characters under the condition that they are "being acted upon, and reacting" vs. "acting" is very different. Now the story is showing me their desires, their goals, and the only way for this story to work is if I'm actually invested in at least one side of the conflict. If not, how the hell am I supposed to enjoy this story?
- And as it turns out, I end up joining Kazuki's side of the conflict. After all, while his personal reasons for 'saving' Maria seem less than noble, his intentions are the only ones that make any sense. As Kazuki correctly pointed out, a world ruled by vigilantism is an oppressive and completely unreasonable one that will ultimately end in ruin as long as the 'ruler' is human. But just because he's correct doesn't make him right. Regardless, it's also true that Maria's wish itself is a malignant, self-destructing piece of shit, so he has to stop that as well.
- I do very much revel at the mention of Kazuki smashing apart the naive, wrong dreams of one led astray right before their eyes. What hypocrisy.
- Reading this volume turned out to be a rage-inducing, insufferable experience wherein for the first time, I actually actively questioned Hakomari's ability to present a meaningfully engaging conflict. And as per usual, the author dodged the bullet at the last minute and cleared some of the air around the bullshit, instantly making the work tolerable again. Boy do I resent the author for that one, but there's nothing I can do about it.
Vol. 6
Since I didn't make this clear in the Volume 5 reaction, I'd like to add a side note before I start with Volume 6: I actually have a great respect for Eiji Mikage's ideas. His crafting of Daiya's philosophy is actually much more complex than the classic vigilantism, wisely identifying that it is not "evil", but the thoughtless inconsideration and inherent self-centered nature of people that bring about most cases of bullying, violence, and crime. That people don't feel the full weight of their own actions, constantly finding means to run away from, vent, or justify their behavior. Daiya's methods are also crafted well, but probably the most important thing about all this is that despite putting so much thought into Daiya's philosophy, the author never tries to push it as right. It is itself a selfish desire, a selfish lashing out against the injustice of the world, regardless of anyone else's wishes, regardless of the feasibility of the goal, regardless of any collateral. He has only the choices to accept Kokone's fate as something that can't be helped, or fight; the former is completely out of the question.
What's interesting about the position of Daiya's character is that despite Daiya seeming like the most intelligent and unstoppable of the characters, he's actually referenced as an emotional weakling several times when compared to blind devotion monsters like Kazuki and Maria. His overcomplication of thought and consideration, in casting doubt on everything he sees and thinks (to the point of playing his own devil's advocate), are the very strengths that make him more vulnerable than anyone else I've seen in the cast. It's to the point where he has to constantly suppress himself in order to push himself towards a goal with a devotion to match the other superhumans of this cast.
Anyways, Daiya aside, my primary concern is still my ability to emotionally invest in the conflicts of these characters. I still despise everything about Daiya's goal and hope his dreams get stomped to hell, and Kazuki's blind devotion isn't exactly the best thing to get behind either. Frankly speaking, there's not a single character in this cast that I feel anything for. Now onto the actual reaction.
- You know the novel's gone off to the deep end when you read through Kokone's backstory and your reaction is "That's it?" Well of course it's not trivial; in the context of real life, it's tragic as hell. But after all the flying shit that I've been through since the piercing throes of Mogi's fate amidst mind-blowing imagery in the first volume, somehow this revelation seems a bit disappointing for what significance it has on the story. Maybe it's the way the author presents it that feels...tame?
- Another thing strikes me as weird that I didn't mention in my last reaction: why does O bother revealing stuff to Kazuki, as if wanting him to discover his true role and giving him a chance to defeat her? I mean, sure, it's been established long before that O doesn't care much about consequences, and perhaps O wants to observe Kazuki's ability to struggle against her...well, that's probably it. Not something I can understand, but O's not meant to be understood normally.
- Never mind. The Kokone & Daiya relationship is slowly digging into my mind, and instead of the distant apathy that I felt beforehand, now I'm starting to get the 'Punpun tragedy' reaction, sharp pangs of discomfort in my stomach as I read on with abandon.
- Count it Eiji Mikage's brand of genius that makes me care for characters in a climactic scene even when I thought it was far too late. The conclusion to this Wish-Crushing Cinema is absolutely brilliant. The eerie mood of the Cinema and the whole tragedy of the backstory is all coming together now.
- Well, besides the random-ass "by the way the box is actually the doing of this female character no one gives a shit about ever!"
- Oh christ what was that Yang-like ending.
- Maria :(
Vol. 7
- Why are all the characters suddenly younger in the illustrations? Regardless of whether it's intentional, I can't help but feel a little saddened, as my image of these characters after all that's happened is more along the lines of utterly worn out, scarred, and broken. The character images convey a sense of naivety with their clean, clear expressions, exactly the opposite of what it should be. The contrast feels like loss of innocence to me.
- Well I'm certainly surprised that more than 150 pages of this volume is solely dedicated to Kazuki's slow descend to madness. Wow. It never stopped being engaging.
- "Even now, I'm still dreaming...that my efforts might be rewarded with some kind of happy ending." (pg. 177) Appearing at the very end of Kazuki's madness, these words have incredible weight to them.
- I think that Maria's big turning point moment is underwhelming for several reasons. One, it doesn't really transition well with or 'respond' to the powerful volume 6 conclusion of Maria losing all faith in Kazuki. Two, the writing of Maria's observation of Kazuki's 400,000 iterations is really tame. Boring. Three, I don't know why the author thought that it was a good idea to have this magical "sediment talking in Kazuki's voice" guide Maria to her conclusion rather bluntly. This is not good because at this point Kazuki's already batshit crazy, and the idea of him leaving some recording of thoughts behind is just lame. Not to mention deus ex machina. You know what would've been interesting? If that voice was instead O. Here's why it's a good idea, besides the fact that O is the only other entity appropriate for the role, having observed Kazuki through all his growth and madness. At this point, we know two crucial things about O: she's defeated, and she's not actually supposed to be this 'evil' entity. The only reason O is constructed as sociopathic is because that's Maria's misconstrued interpretation of her past tragedy in order to 'make sense of it' and protect her own sanity ("She couldn't have possibly died for nothing. She must've planned it!") But even Maria's inner subconscious retains memories of O being 'normal'; Maria's just reasoning off selective memory for O's sociopathic personality. Now that Maria's box is crumbling (and with it, her previously held convictions and thoughts), it's only natural that Maria's fantasies about O will also fall apart, leaving only the truth in the end. We already saw aspects of this when O faced Maria for the last time, with a resigned smile and hug. If O was the one who ultimately brought Maria to Kazuki in the end, it would fit so well with the fact that O has been drawing Maria and Kazuki to each other this whole time. We can only see O as this nefarious being for most of the series, but isn't her drawing Kazuki in, forcing Kazuki to grow, and pushing Kazuki to the far end in a sense fulfilling Maria's subconcious desire of making Kazuki fit the 'Knight' role of ultimately rescuing Maria? Even though O's being came to existence through Maria's desire to escape reality (kinda), all of O's actions point towards eventually forcing Maria to realize the truth and grow from it. The pieces all fit, and it would essentially make for an excellent redeeming moment as O puts the final nail in her own coffin. The ultimate retribution, as we could see O as having sinned without regard for anything, with the sole goal of 'breaking Aya' and saving Maria. O bringing Maria to Kazuki and saying her final goodbyes to Maria would've been beautiful, as it is essentially the grand moment of Maria coming to terms with herself. But instead we got talking sediment. Thanks Obama.
- Regarding the above point, I would like to clarify that the intentions and ideas behind Maria's development are really strong. The whole series had been leading up to this moment, and all that stuff with Maria's backstory is excellent too. My complain is that the execution doesn't live up to the ideas. Come on. Kazuki-voiced sediment. Friggin' talking dirt. O makes so much more sense! O being roundabout about her intentions is totally the Eiji Mikage style as well; most of Hakomari's characters like to do shit that looks much worse than it actually is.
- Epilogue is really damn good. I never realized that I felt anything about these characters until I read the epilogue and feel nothing but an overwhelming sense of attachment and warmth. Especially Kazuki's epilogue. Kazuki's epilogue is actually hands down one of greatest pieces of fiction I've ever read. The emotions are so goddamn raw. It's the simple stuff that gets me. And the Kazuki and Daiya meeting, oh christ. Holy hell. I can't even write properly.
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Overall
Evident from the first volume, Hakomari's greatest strengths originate from Eiji Mikage's terrifying writing talent. If he wants suspense, your eyes will be glued onto the screen without fail. Baiting the reader's emotions becomes a literal art form, yet you can't even feel any resentment for being so pathetically toyed with. You will feel every emotion that the characters are feeling as they're being thrown in a loop. It's draining on the mind and soul. How about thrill? That rollercoaster will fly right off the rails and throw you into some of the most incredible imagery you've ever seen. But it's never senselessly bizarre or abstruse (see: Madoka Magica Rebellion). That imagery will be accompanied by an aura of powerful emotion, be it sadness, dread, or pure awe. It will actually impact you. Moreover, such vivid descriptions can be conveyed without disrupting the flow of action in the slightest, unlike some other wordy prose I've seen (looking at you, Nasu).
In short, Hakomari is insanely enjoyable. My man Eiji nails down the mystery psychological thriller part of the story like he's been doing it his entire life. And well, that's not really what I care about in the end. For me, what makes a great work from mere popcorn has everything to do with the overarching elements of the story: the themes, the central conflicts, and the character development. This is where the problem gets a bit more complicated.
-Characterization Issues and Slice of Life-
One of the biggest issues I have with Hakomari is its characters and the way they're used. Being the crazy ass thriller that it is, many of Hakomari's characters are likewise extreme: broken, weird, or exceedingly obsessive. Take our main character Kazuki for example. He's driven entirely by his unhealthy obsession for Maria. (Outside of that, he's a boring ass light novel protagonist who doesn't do anything with his ever-growing legion of fangirls who like him for god knows what reason. I mean, just look at him. You can't get a more generic, blank-slate design than that.) There's also Maria and her naively altruistic obsession towards fulfilling people's wishes, Daiya and his grand notions of systematic vigilantism, and a wide array of miscellaneous nutheads who are, well, crazy to say the least. It's one thing that these characters are not relatable in the slightest, but it's another thing entirely when they seem so distant and mechanical, like puppets drawn by strings. The problem with all this is that I have a hard time viewing them as 'real', and therefore I can't emotionally invest in them.
Usually, when we're dealing with characters forced into extreme situations, there are two types of opportunities to give a character the sense that they're 'human' (for lack of a better word). One is through emotional cracks that form in their behavior. Take Lelouch for example: what makes Lelouch a more sympathetic character than Light is the moments of weakness that he keeps to himself, moments that clearly indicate signs of his ongoing feelings of guilt, exhaustion, and concern for others. In a sense, we're seeing Lelouch as a fellow human being, not as a human-shaped embodiment of his ideals and the story's themes. The second way is through moments outside the conflict; the change of environment, especially through an everyday slice of life, can easily give characters more dimension, more nuance, more natural relatability. This is one of the cornerstones of Monster's extraordinary characterization. Unfortunately, while Hakomari engages in both methods, neither are used effectively.
Take the first one, the signs of weakness under pressure. Yes, the characters do crack under pressure. They frequently crack under pressure. But while we see them exhibit moments of pain or despair, it rarely ever adds to their character. We don't get a sense that we're understanding them better, relating to them more, or seeing more nuance to their personality. (Brief tangent, but one possible counterexample is when Yuuri cracks, and we see the crazy manifest itself in a somewhat spectacular fashion. That doesn't make her character seem any more real though; if anything, it achieves the opposite effect.) Instead, it's just a cycle of momentary doubt followed by a deep breath, a clearing of the mind, and the plot sets in motion again. It also doesn't help that there's no reasoning behind either Kazuki or Maria's goals: they pursue it because they feel compelled to pursue it, and they have the superhuman will to sacrifice anything for it. Period. Morality and various other doubt factors are only things to be conquered over time, not reflected upon (causing a change of plans or a change of heart) or regained.
How about the slice of life? Oh boy. Look, I'm usually one to love banter. Banter's enjoyable to read, can flesh out character dynamics, and demonstrates a character's wit and charm that we wouldn't have seen otherwise. But as the famous expression goes, too much of anything is bad. Hakomari overloads its slice of life with so much banter between the characters that that's literally all there is to it. It's meaningless after the millionth time of seeing some character firing the shots and applying the third-degree sick burn with surgical routine. It's mechanical, it's incredible unfunny, and hell, it's annoying! Having a dick size competition of who has the sickest comebacks doesn't show me anything about the characters. I can't even tell you how the everyday can be written meaningfully; I just know that I've seen successful examples, and Hakomari's not one of them.
Okay. For sake of argument, let's take two steps back and assume that the whole point of such mundane slice of life is to set up the foundations for the big reveal regarding Kokone's past. So it'd be similar to Shigatsu wa Kimi no Uso, where the characters deliberately fake an overly light-hearted atmosphere with all the idiotic rom-com to cover up deep underlying issues. Well, that's great and all, but I feel like it's a huge wasted opportunity to have sacrificed one of the best backdrops for subtle character development in favor of a plot twist. Haruaki and the rest of the character cast really could have used it. Oh well, perhaps Eiji Mikage isn't a good slice of life writer and preferred to stick to his strengths of plot writing instead. Actually, I'd argue that neither of those two assertions are quite true, but we'll get to that later (or not).
-Drama-
Yet despite all my complaints about the relatability and groundedness of the characters, Eiji Mikage's stroke of genius kicks in whenever the story hits a dramatic high point: regardless of how you feel about a character, he will make you feel something for the character during that scene. Without fail. He'll make you feel for a character you've known for barely twenty pages, or even a character who's a murderous psychopath underneath his deeply irritating visage. Sympathy, empathy, pity, despair, sadness, what have you. It doesn't matter.
Ultimately, it's this incredible capacity to write engaging drama that carries the latter portions of Hakomari to greatness. After all, no matter how stubborn I am about not liking a character or feeling that they're not relatable enough, once I've felt for them in a big moment, my emotional perception of them will change. The poignancy of their overbearing struggles will hit me, and whenever I think back to them, I will only be able to recall these strong pangs of emotions. That is the sign of success, and my god do the sixth and seventh volumes succeed big time.
-Character Perspective-
Another counterweight to the characterization issues is how effectively character perspective is used to tell the story. For most of Hakomari (if not all), the story is told through Kazuki's perspective, and shifts to Maria's or Daiya's perspective from time to time based on the needs of the situation. Regardless of the character, you as the reader can really get into the character's heads and place yourself in their shoes. Very rarely do I recall disagreeing with the character's judgement; their logical thought process is sound, and their decision making is always very understandable given their situation and the information they know. Their concerns are well founded, and their emotional reactions to the situations bleed through the page right into your mind. The immersion aspect is rock solid in that regard.
Now all this may sound contradictory to my previous assertions about "unrelatable and distant" characters, so I should clarify the subtle distinction: getting inside the character's mind does not instantly make the character feel 'human'! The internal logic of the mind can be sound and understandable, but the character himself might still feel mechanical and drawn by the whims of fate.
That being said, the significance of effective applications of drama and character perspective is that the characterization issues I mentioned prior don't actually hinder engagement with Hakomari's characters to a great extent. You'll understand the characters, you'll feel their emotions, and in the end, you'll probably feel for them too. It'll just take a while to get there.
-The Characters-
Well, if you don't mind me, I'll just cut the crap and informally blabber about my impressions of Hakomari's characters for a while.
Let's start with Kazuki. Despite being the most blank-slate character of the cast, the lead of a bad harem, and a blindly stubborn nutcase who transcend all moral boundaries for the sole goal of getting some of that everyday Maria ass, there's one thing about his character that's really impressive: the meticulous development that leads to him becoming a nutcase. No, seriously. From volumes 1 through 4, you see him develop in many subtle ways, slowly breaking more and more moral boundaries, becoming more perceptive and decisive, and becoming more aware of what he's going to do about his feelings for Maria. Each event pushes him further on his path, and before you know it, he's a guy who can contend with Daiya in terms of determination, strategy, and ruthlessness. It was at Volume 5 that I suddenly realized this, despite having been with his character all this time. What? Isn't Kazuki supposed to be that innocent, absent-minded kid from the first volume? No way.
Then there's Maria. At face value, I don't find Maria to be that interesting. Her backstory is pretty cool, and now she's pursuing some naïve goal that's stupid and should be crushed immediately. Great. As much as her presence seems cool from the start, the author breaks it down pretty quickly, and we all know her to be that girl who's just trying to run from reality. Now what makes Maria really interesting is O, and this is something I detailed in my Volume 7 reaction. It's actually pretty interesting to see 'Aya' as her selfless self, and O as her selfish self.
To complete the primary character triad, there's Daiya. Refer to my Volume 6 reaction to see what I think of his character, and I guess I'll just add that Daiya's intransparency makes him really frustrating despite his better intentions.
How about the side characters? For Kokone, I don't think we're given nearly enough of her perspective. Sure, we have the backstory and all (see: Volume 6 reaction), but I kinda wished that she played a more active role in the story. I mean, heck, I bet that she had more pointless banter lines than serious lines. Same thing with Haruaki; I like Haruaki, I like his role, and I really wished that he would somehow involve himself deeper with the boxes conflict, as perhaps the only 'normal mind' to provide a voice of reason for all the crazy. The other solution would just be to make the slice of life more meaningful, but I guess we can't have it all. I like Kasumi, but she's wet paste. There's literally nothing to Iroha's character, and as for Yuuri, well…I thought I didn't like Yuuri because she was way too manipulative and crazy for me to get behind. The epilogue changed my mind; she's a crazy manipulative hoe, but she's our crazy manipulative hoe.
-Concluding Thoughts-
There are a few loose threads that Hakomari fails to address (like what the heck actually happened when Touji and Nana disappeared), a few questionable plot leaps of faith that seem suboptimal, but I honestly don't care about them that much. Overall, Hakomari is a lopsided, somewhat incohesive work in my eyes. It's brilliant at thriller material, and the dramatic execution is near flawless, but the substance behind the work falters a bit over its own ambitious weight. It's really a godsend that Volume 7 ended up being the best volume in the entire set, as that epilogue almost brought me to tears with its heartwarming execution, and made me rethink how much I really cared about the characters and their journies through this grueling series. I don't think that Hakomari will be the best of this medium, but it's certainly not a bad place to start.