Originality is a tough thing to come by. The great Salvador Dali once said that those who imitate nothing produce nothing. Considering the infinite artists, musicians, writers, and other types of pen-wielders who have taken influence from someone mightier, it's no stretch to say that Dali's point was well-made. Bocchi the Rock! wouldn't be the same if K-ON! never existed, Taxi Driver is basically a spiritual remake of The Searchers, and snarky critics and cynics will forever chide Aerosmith as being a caricaturish portmanteau of The Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin. To attempt to be original is to fight an uphill battle, and believe me when I say I'm the farthest thing from being a breath of fresh air. We lean on our influences because they inspire and motivate us to create and do.

This brings us now to Crescent Moon Marching, the heartwarming story of Mizuki, a young teenager who, upon entering her new school, becomes so entranced by its band that she decides to join it. While there, Mizuki practices constantly, hoping to make it to Nationals and win gold, and along the way, becomes smitten with one of the band's trumpet players. Ultimately, Crescent Moon Marching becomes a story of how young Mizuki understands what it means to be passionate about music and how crucial it is to improve yourself while understanding others.

Sound familiar yet? Because it should.

Azuki's synopsis for this manga mentions that it's a great read for fans of Sound! Euphonium and well...it really, really ain't kidding. Because beyond what I've just told you, we also have Mizuki's marching band wanting to win gold at the Nationals, the first competition they enter, they fail to win gold, characters named Haruka and Kanade, a character with an estranged relationship with her mother, and a leg shot or two for good measure. Most times, Mizuki looks like Reina; sometimes, she looks like Kumiko, and a few times, she's even transmogrified into Azusa. Maybe I'm entering The Spoiler Zone in relaying these plot points, but any Euphomaniac can see them coming from a mile away.

As a Euphomaniac myself, I'll admit I'm being a bit harsh here. It's a bit unfair to rag on Crescent Moon Marching as simulacra Sound! Euphonium—the beats and vibes are still very much in place, but there are different directions the manga goes down to put a little fantasia on things. Perhaps the best instance of this is within an important character's arc, which has them coming to terms with their grandmother's dementia in a very poignant and touching way.

Of course, with Crescent Moon Marching tackling marching band instead of regular ol' school band, there's a lot more territory these characters can march through outside of just re-doing Eupho's Sun Festival. Perhaps the best thing that can be said about this manga is how painstakingly detailed and vivid the art style is. There are gorgeous flourishes throughout the series—a panel with a potted sunflower left me floored by how much detail and attention was given to it. The manga is littered with portrait-worthy environments. However, the best moments involve the marching sequences. The marching band performing an ode to The Three Musketeers comes smack-dab in the middle and is the manga's highest point, with every single step and every note leaping off the page in a perfect blend of synesthesia.

The biggest detractor, ironically enough, is the one thing that separates it from Sound! Euphonium. Whereas Eupho uses its music competition to bring out the internal conflicts of the characters, Crescent Moon Marching uses its characters to bring out the intensity of the competition. Sure, the idea of winning gold at Nationals always loomed over the heads of Kumiko and her gaggle of band geeks, but the series devoted enough time to slowly but surely develop its characters during their downtime. When the characters weren't practicing their music, they were focusing on their own shared emotions and relations—the famous hilltop sequence between Reina and Kumiko from Eupho season one comes to mind, as does Nozomi and Mizore's relationship throughout Liz.

While many of Crescent Moon Marching's characters hint at something deep and complex, the manga doesn't give itself enough time to properly develop any of it. Most of the conversations and behind-the-scenes banter focus on battle plans and strategies for the next competition, making the character development moments sometimes feel a bit forced. This isn't an inherently bad thing—as someone who was in their high school choir and has friends in local rock bands, I know that a dramatic soap opera doesn't emerge from every musical practice. Sometimes, it is just a matter of “So when's the next gig?” or “Hold my beer, I gotta make sure this guitar solo is tight enough.” This may not make for something sweepingly novel, but it's still realistic enough to avoid being a net negative altogether.

For those wanting some comfort food to heal up the emotional hangover left behind by Sound! Euphonium's finale, this might be the read for you. Considering the subject matter, I'm also certain that Crescent Moon Marching can serve as inspiration to young pre-teens and teens fascinated by the world of music and manga.