The second of two volumes essentially about a family in grief. Yaichi loses his identical brother, Ryoji, and he also becomes divorced, in a relatively short period. The death and grieving are complicated by the fact that he and his brother were estranged, for reasons that begin to be clear in the first volume: Yaichi has never fully understood or accepted anything about his brother being gay. Yaichi also has a little daughter, Kana. One day his brother’s husband, Mike, a big bearish Canadian, shows up at his door to visit.
In the first volume there are uncomfortable moments in the first volume as we see that Yaichi, while not exactly shunning his brother, had been (quietly) bigoted. Mike is great, very likeable and always positive, and Kana also his very accepting and loving. The two of them form a bond that makes Yaichi consider his own actions.
In the concluding volume Kana is the same irrepressible kid we love, and Mike remains who is, but Yaichi changes, as a kind of model for us of acceptance. This is a quietly and not unexpectedly positive, but still moving, volume where small, good things happen (I mean there is not a lot of drama); for instance, Yaichi confronts Kana’s homeroom teacher about protecting her from bullying because she has a gay uncle. In the process it is Yaichi who educates the teacher. In another scene, Yaichi’s ex points out that they have become a family—a divorced couple who love their daughter together, including now the husband of their lost brother and uncle. Okay, so what if I’m crying, shut up.
Gengoroh Tagame's Goodreads biography tells us “he is a Japanese manga artist who specializes in gay BDSM erotic manga, many of which depict graphic violence. The men he depicts are hypermasculine, and tend to be on the bearish side.” Mike fits this category, but in no other sense would this sweet tale appear (I haven't read any of the rest of it) to be typical of Tagame’s work, which was meant for a particular gay audience. As I see it, this may be primarily written for a straight or cis-gendered audience, who are essentially Yaichi, learning to appreciate what it might mean to be gay in Japanese—or any other—society. Mike has lost his husband, the love of his life. Ryoji has lost his brother. Part of his grieving involves learning to accept and love the man his brother loved, and to accept him as loving and losing as he has loved and lost his brother (and wife, to some extent). My Brother’s Husband is about grief, but it’s also about love, which knows no boundaries.