Hyper-attentiveness seems like an obvious strength for a character like Alpha Hatsuseno. But living a long life, willfully detached from the frail, dried-out insecurities of the modern world, often juxtaposes Alpha's quest for peace and comfort against the raw, emotional isolation that invariably follows.
YOKOHAMA KAIDASHI KIKOU v4 is a gradual pivot. In the previous volume, Alpha acknowledged that a year away from home forced her to grow and mature in a way she had never before experienced. Can androids build character? But as Alpha gets to work rebuilding her café (i.e., at first with reclaimed wood, then with a plastic awning, then with an actual construction plan), the manga's other characters slowly (similarly) come into their own. Curiously, one never really knows how much time passes in this book. It's one of the author's greatest achievements: Time will slip through one's fingers, no matter how slow, treasured, or charitable one is with their allotment. The shorelines degrade from ever-rising waves; the stash of coffee beans runs low; snow falls in big, giant puffs; and Takahiro and Makki enter adolescence.
Matsuki ("Makki"), the little girl who follows around Takahiro, is now 13 years old. She has a taste for adventure, adores the natural world, doesn't mind back-talking the adults just a little, and possesses an intuition like few others. It's no mistake that the roving traveler (Ayase), whom Alpha comically remembers as "the fish guy," asks the little girl if she wants become his apprentice: traveling, exploring, learning to fish. Takahiro is about to go off on his own journey, so perhaps it's time Matsuki did, too.
Also, a new character joins the mix. Maruko, a colleague of Kokone (delivery robot lady), pays Alpha a visit to see what all the fuss is about. The challenge? Maruko is a staunch, hard worker. She always has a plan, always has a purpose, and steps over anyone who lacks the fortitude to keep up. She hates laziness. So, then, what happens when the stout-minded Maruko visits Alpha's awkwardly painted, three-unrelated-meal serving café out in the boonies? Through these characters' layered interactions, YOKOHAMA KAIDASHI KIKOU v4 offers more than one definition of emotional isolation.
The book's visuals deliver a similar shift in momentum. Backlighting, for example, plays an important role in focusing reader attention on moments of acute solitude or of a purposeful communing with preferred company, the self, or nature. For example, as Matsuki hand-carves a boomerang for Ayase's barracuda, she tires, falls asleep, and dreams of a future of her own making — the lighting pushes a snoozing Matsuki, in the dark, to the foreground, while her well-lit caretakers, in the background, worry in silence.
In another example, Alpha searches for a better source of freshwater for her coffee-making. Saltwater intrusion has affected the surrounding area, and her opportunities for recourse are dwindling. But as the young woman hunts through bluffs, valleys, and cliffsides for freshwater streams, a single panel trails Alpha (on her motorbike) as she jaunts through an overgrown forest tunnel — the lighting silhouettes slippery rock surfaces and towering trees, but highlights bristling tallgrasses and puffs of motorbike exhaust. Alpha's shunt for clean water continues.
YOKOHAMA KAIDASHI KIKOU v4 wields quiet, tentative moments like these to sharply visualize the hesitation lurking beneath the surface of characters whose future, whether near or distant, is ruptured with a single flake of uncertainty. Late in the volume, a pair of locals visit the café just before a torrential rainstorm hits. The world darkens. The couple could turn on the light, but the folks choose not to. They choose to sit in silence, in the darkness, under the roar of the rain on the rooftop, and Alpha quietly reminisces on the privilege she shoulders as one who lives in a home assembled from the enduring beams and boards of homes of generations past.