Back to bungle77's Profile bungle77's Profile

I just finished My First Love’s Kiss by Iruma and I still can’t get over it. It’s one of those books that doesn’t comfort you but strikes you, and it does so from the very beginning: the prologue is shocking, a girl just beaten, maybe by a parent. In a few lines you realize you’re no longer in the suspended and gentle world of Adachi and Shimamura, but in its negative, the same universe seen from the other side of the glass — with characters from both stories even making brief cameos that tie them together.

The main character, Hoshi, is forced to live with Umi, ... the daughter of her mother’s friend. At first it’s all awkward silences and irritation, but Hoshi can’t stop watching her: too composed, too distant, and disappearing at night for reasons she won’t explain. Most of the time we see things through Hoshi’s eyes, but at certain points Umi’s voice takes over — just like in Adachi and Shimamura — and suddenly the picture breaks. Her elegance turns out to be a shield, her distance a defense, and behind it lies something much darker.

The tone shifts dramatically whenever the woman in the kimono appears. On the surface she’s kind, warm, almost maternal, but every smile carries an undertone that makes you uneasy. She’s the real gravitational center of the story, a yandere-like figure who binds Umi to her with sweetness that slowly reveals itself as control and obsession. More than once I felt that she was the true protagonist, with Hoshi and Umi caught in her orbit.

The yuri element here is raw and unsettling. Hoshi’s feelings for Umi grow slowly, full of jealousy, fear and longing, while Umi is already trapped in a relationship that’s everything but pure. That contrast — innocent love on one side, toxic dependence on the other — gives the novel a unique weight. And just when you think it can’t get any heavier, a hidden truth surfaces that makes the whole relationship even more disturbing. It’s the kind of twist that forces you to rethink every scene before it.

If Adachi and Shimamura was about two souls destined to meet again and again, My First Love’s Kiss is about two souls who, no matter what they do, can never truly meet. It’s cruel, melancholic, and honest. I closed the last page with a knot in my throat and the certainty that I wouldn’t forget it anytime soon.

If you only glance at I Love Amy, you might think it’s just a quirky high school rom-com drawn in a cutesy cartoon style — the kind of story that plays it safe with pastel-colored feelings and harmless crushes. But chapter by chapter, this manhwa slowly dismantles that impression and replaces it with something much more raw, tender, and unsettling. At its core, it’s the story of two broken girls: Bibi, a borderline psychotic rich kid with a deeply fractured psyche and a freezer full of taxidermied pets, and Amy, a quiet Korean immigrant living in the U.S., still haunted by the childhood trauma of ... a mother who once tried to kill her. Their meeting is accidental, manipulative, even absurd — Bibi pulls Amy into a ridiculous scheme to win over the school’s golden boy — but what follows is a strangely beautiful, emotionally intimate, and sometimes deeply uncomfortable bond between two people learning how to give and receive love for the first time. Through the simplest moments — cooking together, watching TV, falling asleep in the same bed — Amy becomes a source of healing for Bibi, and Bibi, chaotic and obsessive as she is, helps Amy find a sense of agency and visibility. The manhwa’s recurring metaphor of a cookie jar — empty at the start, slowly filled one “biscuit” at a time with Amy’s kindness — perfectly captures the emotional growth at the story’s center. And yet, despite its darkness (gun-waving declarations of love, jealousy, abandonment, trauma therapy, and even alien abductions), what truly defines I Love Amy is an unexpected softness. The art, which draws more from Western indie comics than traditional manga, adds to this with its round eyes, flat colors, and expressive faces. There's even a subtle love triangle, with Camilla — Amy’s loyal childhood friend — quietly carrying unspoken feelings that add further depth to the story’s emotional tension. In the final arc, even the quirky side characters like cynical Linda and extraterrestrially-traumatized Katelyn get their own romantic closure, as if the manhwa is whispering: no one is too strange, too broken, or too lost to find love. I Love Amy is not perfect, and it never tries to be — but it’s one of those rare stories that manages to be funny, disturbing, and profoundly sweet all at once. It doesn't romanticize trauma, but it dares to show how love — awkward, chaotic, healing love — can exist even in the darkest places. And that might be the most comforting message of all.

Imagine being able to literally see love—bright pink arrows floating above people’s heads whenever they’re in love. That’s the unusual ability Mei Haruno, the main character of Moshi, Koi ga Mieta Nara, has. But instead of being a gift, it’s been a burden for her. She’s got a painful past tied to this power and has sworn off falling in love ever again.

Trying to avoid complications, Mei enrolls in an all-girls school hoping for a peaceful life. But fate has other plans: she runs into Sayu Shirayuki, an old childhood friend who confessed her feelings years ago. And sure enough, there’s a huge pink arrow ... pointing straight at Mei from Sayu. Just when things couldn’t get more complicated, a mysterious new student, Rinna Fukatsu, shows up—and she’s also attracted to Mei, sending up a second arrow.

The story unfolds as a gentle love triangle between these girls. Mei even ends up on the student council as a sort of “love counselor,” helping her classmates figure out their feelings. The tone stays light and sweet throughout, steering clear of heavy drama or toxic jealousy. The harem angle stays open until the end, but the focus is always on sincere affection rather than ambiguity or conflict.

The Characters

Mei is kind-hearted and determined, carrying some emotional baggage but still shining bright. She genuinely wants to help others, especially with matters of the heart. Sayu is the classic shy, sweet childhood friend who blushes and gets adorably flustered around Mei. Rinna is the opposite—quiet, reserved, even a bit cold—but her glances toward Mei say it all.

The supporting cast is mostly female characters in love with other girls (at one point, it’s noted there’s not a single guy with a drawn face in the story). The twin sisters on the student council are fun, and the two lesbian teachers add a nice touch, especially in a brief but charming episode about a polyamorous relationship between three adult women that’s handled with warmth and respect.

The Art Style

Yuuki Nanaji’s art is soft and kawaii, with clean lines and a lot of pink hues. The glowing pink arrows above the characters’ heads are a cute signature detail, and the colorful scenes add to the playful, romantic vibe. Some of the colored pages are genuinely lovely.

Yuri Elements

This manga is unapologetically yuri. The romantic relationships are all between girls, and it’s explicit without being over the top. The love triangle at the center is handled very tenderly—there’s no harsh competition or jealousy, only mutual respect and affection.

It’s all very pure, maybe even a bit too innocent. There are hardly any “spicy” scenes—just a few shared baths and barely a kiss. But for anyone looking for soft, sugary yuri romance, this hits the spot perfectly.

Final Thoughts

Moshi, Koi ga Mieta Nara is a comfort read filled with clichés—the childhood friend, the mysterious quiet girl, the student council—but it embraces them with charm and care. The arrow gimmick is fun and fresh, even if it could have been explored deeper. Some scenes feel like idealized fantasies rather than real school life, but the manga doesn’t try to be realistic—it just wants to make you smile.

It’s not a masterpiece, but it does exactly what it sets out to do. It relaxes you, entertains you, and by the end of the three volumes, it leaves your heart a little lighter. And sometimes, that’s just what you need.

Plot

Lonely Girl ni Sakaraenai follows Ayaka Sakurai, a diligent but anxious student who ends up attending a high school that doesn’t quite live up to her expectations. In hopes of securing a recommendation letter, she’s tasked with persuading a rebellious classmate, Sora Honda, to return to school. But Sora agrees only on one condition: Ayaka must grant her every request—starting with a kiss.

This setup might raise some eyebrows. The initial dynamic between the two leads treads close to coercion, which can make their budding relationship feel questionable at first. But as the story progresses, that tension softens. Their interactions grow more sincere, and a mutual ... affection gradually comes to the surface. The manga maintains a light, easygoing tone throughout, steering clear of heavy drama. It doesn’t aim for intricate twists or emotional rollercoasters—and that’s precisely its charm. It’s a sweet, comforting story that exists to make you smile.

Characters

The characters may not be deeply layered, but they’re undeniably charming. Sora, who initially comes off as unpredictable and aloof, slowly reveals a more vulnerable and complex side. Ayaka, on the other hand, is your classic nervous heroine—shy, clumsy, and quietly endearing. Their chemistry grows with each chapter. The supporting cast adds bits of comic relief, though not every side character hits the mark (the teacher Egawa, for example, feels less fleshed out).

Yuri Elements

This is unmistakably a yuri manga—no ambiguity, no subtext-only teasing. There are two explicitly romantic couples and another pair with heavy subtext. Scenes of intimacy and kissing between the leads are plentiful and openly portrayed, making the romantic element central rather than peripheral.

Conclusion

Lonely Girl ni Sakaraenai is an ideal pick for anyone craving a warm, relaxing yuri read. It’s not groundbreaking, nor is it emotionally intense, but that’s part of what makes it so satisfying. This is the kind of story that doesn’t ask much of you—it simply offers a bit of sweetness, some lighthearted romance, and a welcome escape from the heavier corners of life. A little balm for the heart, and sometimes that’s exactly what you need.