| Quick facts | |
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| Format | Manga (seinen), 25 chapters, 5 volumes |
| Run | completed |
| Community score | MangaUpdates 8.0 |
| Content | Graphic violence, sexual abuse, torture |
Overview
Rainbow: Nisha Rokubo no Shichinin opens in 1955, a decade after the war, with six teenage boys arriving at the Shonan Special Reformatory. Inside, they find a seventh — An-chan, an older boy and ex-boxer who becomes their leader, their protector, and their moral compass. Written by George Abe and drawn by Masasumi Kakizaki, it's a story about what it takes to stay human in a place built to grind you down, and about the kind of loyalty that forms when seven people have nothing left but each other.
What it does well
The brotherhood is everything, and the manga earns it. These seven boys aren't friends because the plot says so; they're bound together by shared cruelty, shared meals, shared survival. Abe takes the time to make each one a person — their crimes, their fears, the families that failed them — so that when they stand up for one another, it lands. The first stretch, set entirely inside the reformatory, is gripping in a way few dramas manage: claustrophobic, tense, and genuinely moving when a moment of kindness breaks through.
A lot of that power comes from An-chan. He's the kind of mentor figure who could easily be a cliche, but the writing keeps him grounded — flawed, tired, but unshakeable in the way that matters. He gives the boys, and the reader, something to hold onto, and the whole story bends around his quiet strength.
Kakizaki's art is the other pillar. It's grimy and physical, perfect for the sweat and bruises of the setting, but it can turn delicate when the moment calls for it. He draws suffering without glamorizing it and tenderness without going soft, and that balance is exactly what a story like this needs. The reformatory feels real — cold, cramped, dangerous — which makes the boys' small victories feel real too.
Above all, Rainbow understands that hope only means something against a believable darkness. It doesn't pull punches about the violence and abuse its characters endure, so when they refuse to give up, it doesn't read as naive. It reads as defiance.
Where it falls short
The darkness is also where the cracks show. The antagonists — a sadistic guard, a predatory prison doctor — are pure, cackling evil, with no inner life beyond cruelty. That works in the moment but flattens the conflict over time. The bigger issue is structure: once the boys leave the reformatory, the latter half of the series spreads across years and subplots, leaning harder on melodrama, coincidence, and reversal. It's still compelling, but it never recaptures the focus of those early volumes. And the sheer volume of misery can wear you down; Rainbow sometimes seems to test how much its characters (and you) can take.
Verdict
Rainbow is a powerful, harrowing drama with one of the strongest opening acts in the medium. Its villains are thin and its second half loses some discipline, but the bond at its core and Kakizaki's superb art carry it a long way. If you want a story about holding onto your humanity in the worst circumstances, and you can handle how dark it's willing to go, it's well worth seeking out.