I am so utterly fascinated by “Saki”, the 18-year-running mahjong manga in which you, the reader, become gradually, frog-boilingly aware (over the course of nearly two decades’ worth of mahjong tournaments) that none of these girls are wearing underwear and most of their boobs are slowly expanding.
I need you to understand that I have, like, an anthropological level fascination with this comic. From the perspective of someone who is also a comic artist and writer, two things delight me about it:
the fact that I understand completely how an artist gets from “the fans can have a little hint of skirted asscheek” to “the pussy is completely out on center page” over the course of 18 years; and
the way in which the pussy being out is treated by the characters and diegesis as being utterly unremarkable.
Okay. Point 1. The frog-boiling.
Let me put this in perspective for you. There was already a meme about how the characters in “Saki” don’t wear underwear when I was in middle school. I am thirty now. Okay? And it’s still going.
In the time since, this has stopped being a joke. It is now indisputable canon. This is not because anyone outright says it at any point. It’s because the underwear ran out of places to hide. I’m obsessed with this thought: somewhere in the over 20 volumes of “Saki”, there is a panel in which underwear was objectively deconfirmed. And it would be so hard to figure out where that panel actually is. Maybe the artist didn’t even realize it when she drew it! The frog? Boiling!!
And of course there is also the breast expansion. I don’t know how to put a spin on this. They are just expanding. Like, this happens a lot with artists: you define a character as being, in your mind, “the one with the big boobs”, and over the years you emphasize that trait further and further so that the signal doesn’t get lost in the noise. It’s just that normally—in like a wildly popular manga series about mahjong published by literally Square Enix, for example—normally there would be a point at which the boobs stopped getting bigger. Like, an editor would step in or something. Or you would get to the point where you cannot draw the character in the same panel as her mahjong tiles without her breasts spilling over the tiles, and you’d go, “Well, this is now untenable.”
That did not happen. There is no ceiling. The frog is soup.
Point 2. The complete and utter mundanity of all of this.
It’s like this, okay: there’s no shortage of trashy ecchi manga out there. There’s a million other comics doing wildly bawdier things with wildly more improbable bishoujos.
The vibe with “Saki” is different.
It’s hard to explain this, but it feels like the world of the comic is fundamentally uninterested in the fanservice happening on the page. I cannot describe it as “leering”, because I cannot conceive of a person in the story from whose point of view one would leer. I think the artist is probably into it—I can’t imagine anyone is making her do this—but “Saki” the comic has no opinion on the matter.
There are essentially no male characters in “Saki”. Like, there was one guy? Kind of? At the very beginning? But he is gone now. They put him back in the toybox. He does not exist. It appears to be some level of canonical that in the world of “Saki”, almost all humans are women. Those women are sometimes romantically into each other. According to comments the artist has made on Twitter (which I cannot source), they have lesbian baby technology, so it’s no problem. It’s so much not a problem that the story is about mahjong, instead of any of that.
So, like, the fiction here appears to be this: this is the, like, meta-narrative of the fanservice of “Saki”, right: it’s just normal that they don’t wear underwear and their boobs are arbitrarily big. It’s been normal. It was normal before the story of the manga began. It’s just how things are. Nobody bats an eye about it, and if they do, it’s in sort of a lesbian kind of way so like what’s the problem, we love lesbians here. This is literally normal for girls.
The fanservice simply diffuses into this all-encompassing aura of disembodied, ambient sluttiness. The framing of the panels demands you acknowledge it, and the story demands you already be over it, because it’s mahjong time now, and we’re playing mahjong.
Do you get??? why I’m so fascinated??? Are you not a little enraptured???
Anyway, I have no idea how to end this weird post. I guess the conclusion is that women stay winning????
I have so many questions... How does one SUSPECT a manga character isn't wearing underwear? Like, sure, boobs are front and center amd you can see them get bigger panel by panel but how does this work for panties? Are there just that many upskirt shots?
Also how do you keep a manga about Mahjong going for 18 years, what??
When a Character is Falling in Love but Doesn’t Trust It
Love is terrifying. Especially for characters who’ve been hurt, shut down, or raised to believe vulnerability is weakness. So when they start falling? It doesn’t look like a Disney montage. It looks like panic in slow motion.
✧ They start noticing everything and it unsettles them.
The way their voice cracks when they laugh. The way their fingers tap when they’re thinking. These little details burrow in and refuse to leave. And that awareness makes the character feel exposed.
✧ They become hyperaware of their own body.
Where their hands are. How close they’re standing. If they’re blushing. It’s like being inside a body that’s betraying them constantly.
✧ They act a little mean.
Not because they are mean. But because being cold is safer than being real. Sarcasm, distance, teasing, they use it like armor.
✧ They hate how much they want to share things.
They’ll see a funny meme and instinctively want to send it. Then stop. No. Don’t get attached. They want to tell them about a childhood memory, then bite it back. Too personal.
✧ They become inconsistent.
Warm one moment, distant the next. Showing up, then pulling away. They’re testing how much of themselves they can reveal before it feels like too much.
✧ They assume the worst.
They know it won’t last. That this person will leave. That they’re misreading everything. Love doesn’t feel safe, it feels like a countdown to pain.
✧ They self-sabotage.
Pick fights. Flake on plans. Pull away emotionally just to “protect themselves” before it goes wrong. It’s tragic and messy and real.
✧ They notice silence more.
What wasn’t said. A delayed reply. A joke that didn’t land. Everything becomes a sign that maybe this love thing was a mistake.
✧ They want to run, but never do.
The desire to bolt is constant. But they don’t. Because something about this person is pulling them back, despite every warning bell going off in their head.
✧ They don’t trust the feeling, but they keep falling anyway.
And that’s what makes it beautiful. And heartbreaking. Because they don’t want to fall. But they do. And maybe, just maybe, that’s the bravest thing they’ve ever done.
Day 1 (June 7): Stolen moments | "Let's run away."
Day 2 (June 8): Wedding planning | "I never expected to be this stressed over making a choice."
Day 3 (June 9): Melody | "Say you won't let go."
Day 4 (June 10): Gangstatalia | "Hold my coat."
Day 5 (June 11): Flowers | "You remembered."
Day 6 (June 12): Big conversations | "It can wait – this is important."
Day 7 (June 13): Free Day
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