The recommendation baseline for Confession/Kokuhaku is simple: if you're a fan of intense psychological thriller, you'd probably love this.

Award-winning creators Nobuyuki Fukumoto and Kawaguchi Kaiji provided the story and art respectively for this single-volume manga about two long-time friends stranded in the middle of a mountain blizzard. An unsettling sentence on a pitch-black background set the opening tone, and we are whisked straight away into the thick of it. The rest of the story you should really discover by yourself, but suffice to say that fan of Fukumoto's works (most notably popular long-running series Kaiji and Akagi) would be familiar with what's in store: mounting psychological tension, dramatic physical stakes, and a pretty bleak view on humanity and morality. I occasionally found Fukumoto 's narrative in Kaiji to be overblown and consequently drag the pace down, even as I deeply enjoy the series as a whole, but there's no such complaint with Confession, which introduced, built up, and wrapped up its conflict at just the length it needs. The manga could be adapted faithfully into 90 minute-ish live action film (something I would really love to see) and not losing anything significant in the process.

There are really only two characters here, the good-looking main character Asai and his crippled friend Ishikura (technically, there is also a third vital character, but she only existed in flashbacks). By the end of the story, we would have known almost everything about these two. The tension, doubt, and constantly changing dynamics between Asai and Ishikura are communicated deftly, interspersed by internal monologues (mostly from Asai's side) that helped building up the atmosphere. If there is a downside to Kawaguchi's art, it is that sometimes the characters' reaction shots are too exaggerated that they ended up looking unintentionally silly, but it succeed at the most important element: nailing the sense of claustrophobia and singular setting in the middle of deathly white storm (and later, a secluded mountain cabin).

Confession doesn’t have a grand concept or ambition, but it’s pretty great at being what it is: a brisk survival story dripping with suspense and paranoia thick enough I feel like I can touch it, and a gripping read all the way to its perfectly executed finale.