Chapter 11

Commentary Ghost Mikawa “This is strangely off.” That was my honest impression after reading Volume 1 of Playing Death Games to Put Food on the Table. Although I have enjoyed death-game stories of all forms, including novels, films, and manga, this work felt strangely different from anything I had ever seen before—the key word being strangely. The curiosity of wanting to find out who lives and who dies, unexpected plot developments that hit you like a bolt from the blue, masterfully designed game gimmicks, the ugly—or noble—side of human nature that surfaces in extreme situations… There is no end to the list of engrossing elements found in death-game stories. And like many works belonging to the genre, as a matter of course, this series incorporates those elements as well. So what made it “off” to me? I am embarrassed to admit that, at the time of finishing Volume 1, I was still unsure. I was unable to clearly explain why I felt that way as a reader—all I could say was that each of the engrossing elements seemed slightly out of focus and blurry. However, after reading Volume 2, I finally ascertained the reason behind that hazy feeling—this series, while covering the unordinary subject matter of death games, also handles familiar topics in everyday life. Beginning with the protagonist, Yuki, the major characters of this series are not driven to action because of a desire to survive. To be precise, they want to survive, but survival is not their ultimate goal; it is no more than a means to an end in order to achieve a different objective. Their objective is not financial gain, either. While there are minor characters who are primarily motivated by money, Yuki, Mishiro, and Hakushi are different. Wanting to set a record for consecutive victories, refusing to play second fiddle to a rival, hoping to be the best—those commonplace emotions are their driving forces. Any human who has ever played a game or sport has likely felt the same at least once in their life. The same applies to the challenges faced by the characters. They end up in difficult situations out of inattention rather than inevitability; they undermine themselves by becoming preoccupied with superstitions; their pride gets in the way of their decision-making abilities—these characters are cornered by carelessness and inexperience, which we see in ordinary everyday life. If done inelegantly, these kinds of depictions may result in a work that is perceived as lacking depth. However, seeing them in Volume 2 as well suggests they are very much intentional, and in fact, their existence has been clearly indicated from the very beginning through the title of the series. Playing Death Games to Put Food on the Table. Exactly—the most engrossing element of this work is neither magnificent tricks nor the ugliness of humans in extreme circumstances. Consider a story depicting the day in the life of an office worker who wakes up early in the morning, goes to work, makes it through the day while experiencing discord with colleagues and superiors, and returns home. Except it does not take place in an office or a school or a sports competition—it is set in a death game. A documentary that closely follows characters with the fictional occupation of death-game player, and above all, the protagonist, Yuki—that is the true identity of Playing Death Games to Put Food on the Table. The accounts of this girl in a fictional profession will likely change in accordance with stages of her life. I eagerly await the next volume to see how she evolves.