I THINK I TURNED MY CHILDHOOD FRIEND INTO A GIRL v3 explores the subjects of performative gender, gender variance, and sexual fluidity with such precision and alacrity that readers can be forgiven for being stunned this is the same manga that so glibly (and blandly) dipped its toes into the water few volumes earlier. The current volume primarily focuses on the emerging reality of Hiura and Mido's longstanding emotional connection, but beneath the surface, the author weaves a credible conversation on the roles gender plays (or is forced to play) in otherwise rudimentary relational dynamics.
Does dressing as a girl substantively affect Hiura's psychology and behavioral inclinations? Social psychologists decades over would love to answer that question. But for readers of a romantic comedy manga, Hiura's concern that the boundaries are blurring are legitimate. Not in a dogmatic, evolutionary sense, but rather, Hiura is concerned their personhood is getting too wound up in the presentation of "Hiura the girl with good makeup."
On the face of it, taking a "makeup break" is a smart move. For Hiura and Mido's friendship, the effort gives them an opportunity to be casual without the demands of pretending to be more (or less) than the friends they want to be.
The topic of self-expression grows more gravid when the Photo Club agrees to shoot a video for the student council. Planning to use a local beach resort as the video's backdrop, the club decides to cheat a little and make a day of it. Sounds like a plan. Except, Yoimachi, their effervescent leader, notices something's wrong with Hiura's lack of enthusiasm. Yoimachi rightly intuits that Hiura's level of comfort with wearing a female swimsuit pushes things into uncharted territory.
The varying social, personal, and aesthetical implications are all mixed up. Cross-dressing can get complicated, and swimwear and intimate wear are often significant among said complications. I THINK I TURNED MY CHILDHOOD FRIEND INTO A GIRL v3 addresses the issue with kindness and enthusiasm. Part of this manga's charm surely rests in how it limits these discussions to safe spaces, but one could also argue that seeking solutions to uncomfortable challenges the moment they arise is another feat in and of itself.
For example, when Hiura complains about the difference of bodily proportions or other anatomical difficulties associated with cross-dressing, Mido immediately revises the conversation: Trying something different doesn't have to be scary.
To the manga's credit, Hiura still exhibits trademark antisocial behavior — brushing off classmates, rampant mumbling, sulking at all hours of the day. But the book also gives the character greater opportunities to either ask for or accept help from those willing to endure the same struggle. Shared burdens are infinitely lighter.