Takara's world turns upside down when her best friend from middle school reenters her life. She's bewildered by how the shy, quiet girl she once knew has grown into a charming woman with an air of mystique. Despite Ema being married, Takara can't help but think there's something special about Ema's cool, soft hands against her skin...

Pink Candy Kiss has art and story by Ami Uozumi. English translation by Jan Mitsuko Cash and lettering by Michelle Pang. Published by Viz Media (April 1, 2025). Rated T.

Dee
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The premise for this series sounds so salacious. The suggestive cover art feeds into that impression. It's an incredible misdirect. Pink Candy Kiss takes the story structure of “a seductress tempts a married woman away from her husband,” tells it from the perspective of the so-called “seductress,” and spins it into a thoughtful character drama about heteronormativity and adult queer awakenings.

Most of this volume takes place in 33-year-old Takara's head as she recalls her long-buried crush on her middle school best friend, Ema, and tries to untangle both her past and present feelings. Takara has never felt strong romantic or sexual attraction for any gender before—she's liked men, she's dated and slept with them, but she's never felt a strong urge to be with anyone except Ema. She struggles to name her feelings for Ema partly because society has taught her that love between girls is “just a phase,” but also because she has no comparison point.

It's a fascinating character choice because it means Takara cannot be easily pinned to a label—readers may see her as a lesbian, bisexual, or somewhere on the asexual/aromantic spectrum. She is undeniably queer and head-over-heels for Ema, allowing her story to potentially connect with a variety of readers who have grappled with similar feelings.

Pink Candy Kiss is further complicated both by Ema's clear adoration for Takara and the fact that Ema's husband so far seems like a decent guy. He's absent often due to work, but he's supportive of his wife and excited for her rekindled friendship with Takara. Ema's wish for independence isn't because she needs to escape a cruel or cold husband; she just wants to prove she can accomplish something on her own. There are no “villains” here, only a lot of messy emotions and diverging desires.

Uozomi's art delicately conveys this quiet tension through elegant, wispy lines and broken panels that connect and separate characters equally. This volume is all about yearning, and Uozomi excels at depicting Takara's growing, sometimes overwhelming attraction to Ema. Everything is PG so far, but that doesn't stop it from feeling intimate, even sensual.

Now that Takara has acknowledged her feelings, it's hard to say if Pink Candy Kiss will continue its contemplative pace or if the “forbidden love” premise will lead it into Soap Opera Land. This one feels precarious, but the first volume defied enough expectations that I'm curious to read more.

Rebecca Silverman
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In her afterword, creator Ami Uozumi says that she hopes that someday we'll all live in a world where no one has to be afraid of “becoming gay.” That's something that protagonist Takara has been struggling with ever since she was fourteen, when she fell in love with her best friend Ema. Takara ultimately managed to convince herself that it was just a phase because that's what all of the media she consumed told her – that girls liking other girls was a fleeting, passing thing. That's a pain that she's been carrying around for twenty years, and one she's forced to face again when she meets Ema again now that they're adults.

There's a painful undercurrent to this story that grounds it beautifully. Takara has had boyfriends, but she's never loved any of them, and they break up with her, sensing her emotional distance. She doesn't appear to have considered why that might be, and Ema's reentry into her life shakes everything she had convinced herself she knew. Even more difficult, it looks like Ema might not be as happy as her marriage to a very nice, wealthy man might suggest, opening the door to both women recognizing that what they want is to be together. It calls up images of Run Away With Me, Girl and Even Though We're Adults, meaning that if you liked either or both of those series, you ought to pick this one up.

The action is primarily internal, and mostly in Takara's head, which works. There are some implications that Ema grew up in an abusive household, which may have been why she married Hario right out of college, but most of the story is focused on Takara trying to sort out her feelings and to figure out if she is queer. While that might feel like an obvious answer to us, Uozumi does an excellent job of showing the knots Takara's been tying herself in for twenty years until she probably couldn't tell you what she wants at all. Her friend Momo performs the role of the audience, using her two scenes to say what we want to. But it's always clear that Takara must make her own choices; Momo's role is only to guide her towards a better understanding of her own sexuality.

It may be uncomfortable for some readers that Ema is married and that Hario seems like a very good man. But Ema herself clearly isn't happy, and the alacrity with which she begins living in her memories of middle school, the last time she and Takara saw each other, reminds us that sometimes “good” isn't enough. Uozumi has a deft hand with delicate lines (especially the sweep of eyelashes) that help to demonstrate the nuances of both women's behaviors. It's a thoughtful first volume, and even if Takara and Ema don't end up together, seeing them sort themselves out and achieve a better self-understanding will make this worth reading.

Lauren Orsini
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I didn't expect a manga with such a saccharine name to be so bittersweet. This yuri story features the doomed romance between two women in their 30s, one whom is married to a man. Soft artwork with liquid eyes and kissable lips provides a visual reprieve for some serious angst. The first volume of a series with at least two more books to come, it's the story of two women trying to sort out their feelings for one another that feels more tragic than it is sweet.

Both protagonist Takara and her lady love Ema have exclusively dated men since growing apart as teens, and it's only a random chance that reunites them. They both remember the feelings they shared in middle school, but they each bought into the idea that romance between girls is something that they would “grow out of” by the time they became women. So much for that myth, since here they are, grown women twenty years later, and still with those feelings as strong as ever. However, it's not so easy to simply pick up where they left off. Takara is fresh over her latest breakup in a string of failed relationships with men who question her level of affection, but Em is married to a guy who seems like Prince Charming. It's unfortunate for our romantic leads, since there's no doubt they'd both feel like garbage mistreating that cinnamon roll of a man. Even worse, Hario is innocently encouraging Ema to spend more and more time with Takara, since he wants his wife to be happy and he's never seen her light up like she does with Takara. The result is even more deliciously tragic than if Hario had been an abusive bad guy.

Pink Candy Kiss is novel not only because it's one of the rare yuri titles that focuses on adult women. It also merits praise for flipping the tired old myth about lesbianism being an acceptable phase solely for teenage girls. Both Takara and Ema were given bad advice when they were told they were straight girls going through a normal gay blip, only to nearly lose track of the love of their life. Each longing look, each feather-light touch, gave this manga a quiet, ethereal feel and made me root for these ladies to admit to themselves and each other what this is.

MrAJCosplay
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Longing for something can sometimes be hard to describe. Regardless of whether or not your relationship with somebody takes the form of something physical, I can understand the sentiment that romantic partnerships should have some longing desire. If you don't feel like your partner desires you in any meaningful way, then it's easy to feel fed up or distraught. That is seemingly the emotional setup built at the beginning of Pink Candy Kiss. However, after finishing this, I'm not sure what the book is trying to say.

There are a lot of hints and foreshadowing going on throughout this. We have two young women reconnecting after a noticeable time apart, and the series plays up certain elements as if they're a mystery. One of our leads seems to be living a relatively successful life with a loving husband, but there are so many obvious signs of unhappiness that are never fully put into words. There are a lot of subtle hints about the approval and disapproval of same-sex couples and how sometimes the ways that people try to explore things can lead to traumatic experiences that could have long-standing ramifications on the way that they see intimacy. There's a lot of really strong setup in this volume for a potentially compelling and incredibly heartbreaking story. But the problem is that the volume doesn't hit any satisfying point before it is over. It promises a lot, but doesn't deliver on anything here. That certainly gets me curious about the next book, and as a fan of romances that explore different forms of emotional intimacy, there is a lot of strong stuff here. However, it doesn't always feel fair to judge a story that is primarily set up.

The artwork is very strong, particularly in the subtle facial expressions and how the characters often ponder listlessly. I also think what our lead goes through is very relatable for people who have trouble expressing intimacy on different levels. It just feels like the volume takes its time a little bit too much, setting things up when it is mostly reiterating a lot of the same points before it gets to the end. If the volume ended on a bit more of a stronger note, then it would probably get a stronger recommendation. But as is, I can give it an OK recommendation.