Archive for the Staff Writer Category


Yuri Is My Job!, Volume 13

May 14th, 2025

A blonde girl wearing glasses in a dark-green dirndl-style uniform is surrounded and embraced by flowering branches. She grips the tie at her collar as if to protect herself.

by Eleanor Walker, Staff Writer

After the shocking events of volume 12 and the Okazu Staff’s first ever group review, Yuri Is My Job! is back with volume 13 and the aftermath of those events. Content warning for discussion of sexual assault.

As I hoped, this volume focuses on Kanoko and her past and, to a lesser extent, future. We learn, via a conversation between Sumika and Kanoko, how Kanoko became friends with Hime, and how her feelings developed. The best way I can describe this is that it all feels very realistically teenagerish. The not wanting your only friend to start going out with someone because then you’ll be all alone is certainly something I remember experiencing, although my best friend wasn’t the popular girl, unlike Hime.

Frustratingly though, Kanoko doesn’t seem to have moved on or learnt anything from the whole ordeal. She’s still obsessively infatuated with Hime and a complete doormat to everyone else, and although she says in the last chapter she wants to face her head on, to me the only way she can do this is confess to her, which she steadfastly refuses to do. I just want to shake her and tell her you cannot put aside your own feelings to make others happy, it will all end in tears like it just did with Sumika!! Her fear of romance taking her friend away is beyond healthy at this point, and she really needs help. Whether she will get it remains to be seen.

One thing I did appreciate is this page though, where Mai, in a rare moment of actually acting like a manager, says to Kanoko that even though nothing physical happened, she was still threatened and hurt. It’s nice to see the story acknowledge that (sexual) violence doesn’t always have to simply be a physical act but also a mental one. I’m still in two minds as to whether it was even necessary to begin with, but I am glad the author is taking it seriously in the aftermath.

5 panels of Yuri is My Jon, Volume 13 in which Mai explains to Kanako that even though she was not hurt physically, she was traumatized. "Someone *hurt* you, Kanako-chan, I'd say that's violence."

I can’t honestly say I’m enjoying the series at the moment, but I am interested to see how we move on from this arc. In the afterword of the volume the author says this arc should conclude in the next volume, but unfortunately, the series has been on hiatus in Japan for about a year now due to the author’s health, and at the time of writing, there is no indication of when it may return. There are 3 chapters which have been released in the magazine which have not yet been published in graphic novel form.

Whilst nowhere near as viscerally intense as the previous volume, to finish I am going to quote Erica from our volume 12 review:

“The question I am left with is
is this what we needed or wanted from Yuri Is My Job!?” and after this volume I’m inclined to think not. I can’t work out what the end goal is or where the story is going to go from here and I can’t help but feel the author may have written themselves into a corner they can’t get out of.

To be continued.

Ratings:

Story: 5
Art: 7
Characters: 5
Yuri: 6
Service: 2. Thankfully nothing nearly as egregious as the colour spread in the previous volume. One brief scene of Sumika getting changed but no details visible.

Overall: 5





Motherlover

May 11th, 2025

Two women lie in the grass looking deeply into each other's eyes. One is a heavy-set white woman, with bright orange hair tied in a braid wearing glasses and a yellow-and-white striped tank top. The other woman is Asian with black hair, tied back in a high pony tail, wears a dark gray tank top, and has tattoos on her right arm.By Matt Marcus, Staff Writer

Where would we be without our mothers? As a parent myself, I’ve felt starved for stories about parenthood within the world of Yuri media. In fact, a large amount of Yuri centers on characters that explicitly reject the notion of having children and raising a family, and not without good reason. That’s valid and I support it. But it leaves out a few avenues for telling new stories, which is why I was excited to discover the topic of today’s review.

Motherlover is a spinoff comic (launched on Mother’s Day, of course) centered on two random characters from Lindsay Ishihiro’s long-running autobiographical comic How Baby. After creating them, she felt compelled to give them their own story. The first leading lady, Imogen, is a quintessential Midwestern homemaker, managing a household of four kids; her counterpart is Alex, a Cool Artsy Queer mom who has moved back into her parents’ house after their recent deaths.

Both leads are well-rounded characters. Imogen became a mother at 19 and flunked out of college before meeting her current husband. Her inexhaustible capacity to care for her children is only matched by her insecurity about her limited life experience. Alex, meanwhile, pushes away people who love her as a result of the emotional abuse she suffered from her extremely strict parents.

The core of the story is the dynamic between Imogen and Alex. Their friendship feels lived-in and believable, which further sells you on their compatibility as their feelings for each other deepen. You could even say that they are a bit too accepting at times; even when one is venting ugly honest feelings, the other never takes offense. It’s as if they are committed to each other before they are committed to each other. There is no moment of doubt that their connection will break, which makes for a breezy read even when the topics get heavy.

Putting my Serious Critic hat on, I would say I wish the children had more space to be characters. For instance, how did Alex’s daughter Nolan feel about her mother’s previous partner? How does her feelings parallel Imogen’s kids feelings about their parent’s divorce? The only one of the five children who is given any spotlight is Imogen’s oldest, but their arc is so siloed from the core of the story that it could have been cut without affecting the plot at all. I’ve read enough of How Baby to know that Ishihiro knows how to talk about motherhood in a raw, vulnerable, and hilarious way, but not much of that transferred over to this story.

I also find myself wishing that the issues around Imogen’s marriage didn’t boil down to cheating. I thought Ishihiro did a great job sketching Imogen’s husband as a man who is controlling and withholding, but not in a domineering manner. The way he perpetuates Imogen’s insecurity by shooting down her ideas of going back to school is compellingly insidious; it felt so strong to me that I found myself disappointed when the breaking point of their marriage turned out to be infidelity. It’s believable, but a bit expedient.

One thing that occurred to me is that this is a queer love story where very little of the challenges center on queerness: Imogen never struggles with her gay awakening, Alex doesn’t encounter hostility from the community for being loudly out, a young character comes out as trans and basically no one bats an eye. It represents a kinder world than the one we live in, and I’m sure many readers will love that part of it. (Yes, there is some queerphobia represented in the text, but it’s treated with a light touch.) My feeling is that, in a story where being a parent is the premise, I would have liked to see it tackle what it means to be a parent who is queer, AND what it means to be the parent of a queer child (though I felt the coming out scene was well-handled). To be clear, all of these critiques are quibbles for what is an easily enjoyable story.

While the comic is complete and free to read online, I was unaware of it until seeing an announcement of a physical release from Iron Circus Comics. It’s a lovely softcover book with glossy hearts embossed on top of the matte finish of the cover. The art and paneling is solid and translated well to the printed page. Also, I was pleased to see Abby Lehrke in the credits as a proofreader, given her involvement with A Certain Manga Series Set In College that I am fond of.

If you are looking for the perfect sapphic comic for Mothers’ Day, this would be one to pick up, but I’d say it can be enjoyed and celebrated on the other 364 days of the year as well, just like your mother. (And would it kill you to call every once in a while?)

Art – 8 Solid and clean
Story – 8 Tightly paced; could have been expanded but would have required a longer page count
Characters – 9 Everyone is well written, though some characters could have had more to do
Service – 1 Domestic snuggles is as spicy as as it gets
LGBTQ – 10 70% of the named characters are queer, so it gets high marks

Overall – 9 The best Mom-meets-Mom story on the market

Yes, Ishihiro is aware of the SNL skit of the same name; it’s mentioned on the comic’s About page.

Matt Marcus is a cohost of various projects on the Pitch Drop Podcast Network, as well as the writer for the blog Oh My God, They Were Bandmates analyzing How Do We Relationship in greater depth.





Spoil Me Plzzz, Hinamori-san! Volumes 2 and 3

May 9th, 2025

by Luce, Okazu Staff Writer

It’s Luce, back with a double review, which brings us to the end of this little series – were we spoiled, or was it more spoiled milk? 

In volume one, we met Hinamori Ichigo, a girl who has looked up to the seemingly prefect Suo Yaya… Only to become Suo’s outlet for her crushing desire for validation and praise! Honestly, this girl is a mess, but what can she do? Ichigo is weak for a pretty girl… Even if they’re kind of pathetic at times.

In Spoil Me Plzzz, Hinamori-san! volume two, Ichigo and Suo go on a ‘date’ – to get some clothes for Suo, whose fashion sense is… non-existent. We meet Kujo Hitomi, the girl who is always second place in their year, angry that she’s always losing out to Suo. Turns out… she needs some praise, too. Finally, after some competition between her and Suo, all three girls end up starring in the film club’s movie – and it’s a romance!

I honestly started to wonder how Suo functions at all with how many things she’s shown to be useless at. It was just too over the top with Suo’s inability to do things. How has she done readings in class if she’s that bad? How is she top of the grade when she’s… like this? Have they never done swimming lessons in physical education? I guess she studies, and I know book smarts aren’t necessarily people smarts, but in the second volume, the gap felt too wide to be the same person. Ichigo makes a good point at the start that kindness gone too far is more like self-sacrifice, and I preferred the vignettes that focused on those kind of issues rather than ‘actually I’m terrible at reading things out loud’. I feel like a more interesting ending might have been that she was putting some of it on for an excuse to spend more time with Ichigo – which would have worked out, seeing as Suo is pretty awkward.

I guess that’s the issue with gag manga – you have to stick to the gag, more or less. Them walking home in the rain and Suo getting drenched protecting Ichigo, only to complain about it? Yeah, makes sense. Her being horrific at reading a text out loud? Too much. I’m probably taking it too seriously, but comedy only works when it toes the line to a degree. It has to be funny within the realms of the universe, not make you question it. Suo having zero fashion sense made sense for her character. I suppose my issue is that it didn’t grow up from the gag very much. I never felt much like there was anything much behind the characters, even towards the end, it felt quite superficial.

All in all, the second volume was easily the weakest. I really wondered where we were going with Kujo – namely, I’m not bothered about love triangles, especially when there is so little thought in them. And I’m really not fond on the uber competitive always-in-second character… Particularly when I can see no evidence that the character in first had done anything for it! You gotta do a bit more than just have a character say they’ll be studying for me to think they’re smart, especially to the point of being first in the year. Particularly when they shown to be pretty useless at a lot of things.

The third, and final, volume balances things out a bit more. We get what could potentially be considered a part of Suo’s inciting incident for her need for perfection, but it didn’t really hit enough for the level she’s at. The ending was pretty cute, and very true to the series, but it also just kind of fizzled out. I wonder that it might have been cancelled.

Overall, I enjoyed it to a degree, but it’s not really a recommendation – if you like silly Yuri, this might be for you, but there are probably better ones out there.

 

Story: 4

Art: 6

Yuri: 7

Service: 5, of course there’s a pool scene, and nobody ever wears anything other than a bikini (a personal gripe of mine, YMMV)

Overall: 5

 

A bit of a swing and a miss, for me. Or a hit, an out and a weak hit. I suppose. At least it was short!





Fragrance of the First Flower, Seasons 1 and 2

April 25th, 2025

A promotional poster for season 2 of Fragrance of the First Flower. The poster features the two main characters, Ting-Ting (foreground, with short brown hair), and Yi-Ming (background, with shoulder-length black hair). The two women are facing in opposite directions, with serious looks on their faces.Live-action yuri series from Asia often traffic in the fantastical even when they’re not explicitly fantasies: the implausible coincidence, the melodramatic plot twist, the deus ex machina that brings about an unlikely happy ending, the concluding wedding scene that’s not an actual wedding. It’s therefore refreshing to find a series like Fragrance of the First Flower (streaming on GagaOOLala and Netflix Asia) that eschews fantasy in favor of realism while still conveying a sense of optimism.

It’s no coincidence that Fragrance of the First Flower was produced in Taiwan, a country where the passing of marriage equality legislation means that one might attend a friend’s wedding and find that two women are getting married to each other in the next room over. Thus begins episode 1 of season 1, in which thirty-something Yi-Ming looks across her table at the reception and sees Ting-Ting, her former junior and ardent admirer.

It’s a plot not unknown in yuri works, in which a “passionate friendship” between two high school girls (here told in flashback) ends with graduation but is rekindled in adulthood. But real life intrudes on the potential romance: Yi-Ming is now married, and is torn between her desire for Ting-Ting and her responsibilities as a wife and a mother caring for a young autistic son by herself. (Her husband works in another city and comes home only on weekends.) Ting-Ting slowly enters Yi-Ming’s life again, and her family’s life as well: taking her son to the doctor, picking him up after school, even being invited to dinner by Yi-Ming’s unsuspecting husband. But this state of affairs cannot last; the last episode of season 1 ends on a scene of tearful emotion and a note of ambiguity. Season 2 begins after a time-skip, as Yi-Ming and Ting-Ting each find their lives changed in various ways, and once again find their paths intersecting, this time perhaps for good.

The story of Fragrance of the First Flower is relatively simple and straightforward, with only minor detours along the way (the most important one being an introduction of a new potential love interest in season 2). It’s the characters that make it worth watching, as portrayed by ZaiZai Lin (Yi-Ming) and Lyan Chen (Ting-Ting). (Both women won acting awards for the series—which also won an award for screenwriting for season 1 director Angel I-Han Teng.) Yi-Ming is a woman worn down by the twin burdens of being a wife and mother, guilt-ridden, emotionally closed off, and hesitant to say what she truly feels. Ting-Ting seems a free spirit in comparison—single, living with her mother, working a variety of part-time jobs, and (in season 2) playing in a band—but she has her own cross to bear: she’s desperately in love with Yi-Ming, more than perhaps is good for her, and agonizes over whether her love will ever be returned in full measure.

Fragrance of the First Flower is a “GagaOOLala original,” produced for the up and coming LGBTQ streaming service by its parent company Portico Media, with partial support from the Taiwan Ministry of Culture. (The Taiwanese government’s “tongzhi [gay] diplomacy” includes sponsoring media that promote Taiwan as an LGBTQ-friendly country.) The production values are generally high, and the English subtitles are idiomatic and almost error-free. The music is particularly noteworthy, with excellent songs for season 1 and season 2 by singer-songwriter Enno Cheng and another for season 2 written and sung by Ke Ching Li (a.k.a. Yao), who plays new love interest Xiao Ning. GagaOOLala has seen much success with the series (including being named one of the best international TV shows of 2021 by Variety); I hope it leads the service to produce more high-quality yuri shows in the future.

Ratings:

Story — 8 (painfully real at times)
Characters — 9 (no villains, no heroes, just flawed people trying to find each other)
Production — 8
Service — 4 (a few by-now-mandatory kissing scenes)
LGBTQ — 10
Overall — 9

Fragrance of the First Flower is an emotionally resonant and realistic drama with solid writing, production, and music, and excellent performances by the two leads. If you’re not already a GagaOOLala subscriber it’s worth trying out the service for this series alone.





Girls Made Pudding

April 16th, 2025

A view of a winding highway, surrounded by green hills, A girl with long silver hair in a long black tee shirt leans on an old military motorcycle, a cat-girl with purple hair wearing a maid's uniform, holding a pot with a leek in it, stands in the foreground looking at us over her shoulder.By Christian LeBlanc, Staff Writer

Girls Made Pudding is an adventure game and visual novel from Kazuhide Oka and KAMITSUBAKI STUDIO, which just came out on April 10th for $9.99 US (but is currently 17% off until April 23rd). It is available on both Steam and on the Nintendo Switch Virtual Store; this review is of the Nintendo Switch version.

Joining the ranks of Japanese Yuri-adjacent media featuring girls riding around on bikes together (Super Cub) at the end of the world (Girls’ Last Tour), Girls Made Pudding is a soft, gentle game about the end of the world and the last few remaining humans in it. Also, it’s an exploration of intersubjectivity and shared realities. Also, it’s about pudding, made by girls.

Aside from briefly showing you how to use the camera and move the characters, the game tells you little about how the game works (aside from some tips on loading screens), so for the first little while, you’ll be figuring out the mechanics as you go (muscle power and brain power both deplete as you accomplish certain tasks, while your hunger meter constantly ticks down, and you also have a time meter that marks morning to night).

Cooking two-or-three-ingredient meals not only replenishes your meters, but is also the way to unlock certain conversation topics. Girls Made Pudding is a visual novel, you see, but instead of passively clicking a button to advance the story, you’re riding around on a motorbike exploring deserted towns, collecting recipes and ingredients, finding places to spend the night, and dealing with obstacles in the road (including groups of cats you can pet to restore your brainpower). Zooming forward is what advances the conversation, so you’re always on the move.

When I first started playing I was worried about getting lost and whether I should be making maps, but it turns out you’re always in one of several types of locale (forest, countryside, city, seascape, factory area) that repeat. Houses with items replenish their stock when you return to an area later, so it is impossible to get lost or miss something important.

You can change the difficulty so that your meters don’t deplete, but it’s so low-stakes you may as well leave them on, just to make the game feel a little more like a game. One time I used up all my brainpower and the girls just decided to finish their day early, which meant I had to re-start a conversation I’d been in the middle of. No game over screens. I did reach a game over scenario once from a conversation path I wasn’t supposed to go down, but I was able to continue from a better spot and not lose any progress. I didn’t even have to worry about branching storylines or alternate endings; again, low stakes.

To accompany these low stake adventures and conversations had while zooming through deserted neighbourhoods, there’s a beautiful guitar score (with the odd math rock flourish) by Daijiro Nakagawa that, along with the lovely art and character models by Zumochi, gives the entire game a pleasantly cozy feel.

Which brings us to our characters: Nikomi is a cat-girl in a maid outfit who drives the motorcycle, cooks, and goes with the flow, and she is riding with no-nonsense, white-haired Sumibi. Very early into the game, Nikomi expresses how she thought the two of them were dating to marry, which Sumibi immediately shuts down; an exploration of what these two mean to each other takes place concurrently with the exploration of deserted locales and what happened to humanity.

And just what has happened to humanity? You’ll have fun puzzling this out as you go along, but all you’re given up front is that people just started disappearing. You do meet a couple of other characters during your travels who both shed light on what happened, and while the science behind the fiction may not always feel right, I recommend just going with it so as to catch the right feels from the social commentary that’s being made.

So, is this a Yuri game, you rightly ask? Yes, and no. But also yes. The game gives details about Nikomi and Sumibi and how they interact with each other, and I don’t wish to spoil any of that. I will say that the game definitely wants you to consider these two as a potential couple, and that a lot of cliches are refreshingly avoided as we observe how two people can be important to each other.

 

 

 

Girls Made Pudding does have a few rough spots: it can feel a little exposition-heavy near the end, and while the game does a decent job of giving you the right ingredients at the right time, you’ll occasionally find yourself driving longer than you should looking for an egg so you can cook some buchimgae on the side of the road so you can ask someone about a photograph (a common theme in Jack Kerouac’s On the Road, probably
I still haven’t read it). I’ve included instructions in the comments on how to beat one particular mini-game, because it is not at all intuitive. The translation also gets a little rough in places, especially in one late-game sequence where it labels the wrong character as talking, but for $10 you’re getting six to seven hours of entertainment, a mystery, some science fiction, some deep thoughts, delightful music and scenery, and some cozy Yuri content. And, a liminally wonderful lack of crowds.

There’s also a very cute and funny post-game sequence; be sure to play some more after you’ve beaten the game and then check through your inventory for something that wasn’t there previously, and that will trigger a hilariously self-aware conversation.

Art – 8
Graphics – 7
Story – 8
Sound – 9
Control – 7
Characters – 7
Service – none, unless just seeing a maid outfit does it for you. And/or cat ears.
Yuri – 6

Overall – 7

Get on the same wavelength as Girls Made Pudding, and you will find a fun Yuri game that gets you thinking about relationships and shared realities long after all the pudding has been finished.