Ditama's art is slickly done and easy to parse, with the exception of an action flashback that seems intentionally confused since it doles out info that'll have impact later in the story. Since I've begun these manga explorations, I've grown more accustomed to many of the established visual conventions like big eyes, bigger teardrops, lots of expressive sweat and mouths large enough to swallow a muskmelon. But there are comic manga conventions that continue to throw me: like the moment when a character grows agitated and starts gesturing with arms and hands that have inexplicably turned into stumps. (What's that all about?) In volume one, Saori is drawn in this state for the space of a panel, and it's just plain disturbing.

The artist clearly gets off on rendering naked female bodies, but the scenes I've found more effective are the quiet ones between boy and android as they slowly get to know each other. Beyond the tease and the moments of frantic comedy, there's a poignancy to these moments that's emphasized by the ticking countdown planted at the end of each chapter. Mahoro's days are literally numbered - something only the android knows - and scripter Nakayama doesn't want us to forget it. And, for all of the book's visual flirting, we don't.

Per Tokyopop's site, Mahoromatic is a limited six-volume series, which makes sense when you consider that we're told in the beginning that she has 398 days and this number's dropped down to 365 by the end of volume one. So I'll most likely be following the series through to its end - if only to see if Mahoro receives a more satisfying resolution than the robot heroine of that still-remembered prematurely cancelled silly 60's sitcom. . .