Vol. 3 of If It’s You, I Might Try Falling in Love is where the series stops hovering at the edge of possibility and starts asking a harder question. What does it mean to be openly happy when you’re still learning how to be seen? Amane and Ryuuji have crossed the line into something mutual, and the volume uses that new warmth as fuel, then tests it with jealousy, attention, and the quiet politics of “how much do we share.”

Plot

The runway to Vol. 3 is simple, but emotionally loaded. Amane transfers to Enoshima after earlier experiences left him wary about liking someone at all, and Ryuuji becomes the first person who makes him feel safe enough to want more than friendship. Vol. 2 tightens the screw as Amane realizes his feelings, tries to keep them buried, then reaches the point where he can’t hold back anymore. He confesses, and the story pivots from yearning into outcome.

Vol. 3 opens in the afterglow. After the kiss that follows Ryuuji’s confession at the fireworks festival, Amane is riding the high of getting to see his boyfriend every day at school. However, that sweetness doesn’t come with a manual. They’re still figuring out what to call this, how to act, and how visible they want to be.

Then the volume introduces its cleanest wedge. A charming boy in their class takes a liking to Amane, and Ryuuji has to deal with jealousy in a way he never has before. Fortunately, the point is not to manufacture a love triangle. The point is to watch what happens when outside attention makes their private feelings feel suddenly public, and when affection turns possessive before either of them has the language for it. The story smartly keeps the tension mobile. It moves through school, an aquarium date, and quieter spaces where the two can talk without an audience.

Characters

Amane is still the series’ emotional camera. He lives in his head, he second-guesses the “right” way to act, and even his happiness can make him nervous because it risks becoming visible. Vol. 3 leans into that. Being on cloud nine doesn’t erase the old instinct to measure himself and brace for fallout. It just gives him something real to lose, which raises the volume’s emotional stakes without needing big dramatics.

Ryuuji is trickier in a good way. He’s not unreadable so much as differently wired. Where Amane processes by spiraling inward, Ryuuji tends to act, claim space, decide. Vol. 3 turns that difference into the engine of the jealousy arc. Ryuuji’s possessiveness is a new emotion he has to learn to hold responsibly, especially because he’s never wanted someone all to himself before.

What I like most is that jealousy becomes a vehicle for sincerity rather than punishment. It forces clarity. It makes them define boundaries, confront insecurities, and decide what kind of couple they want to be when other people are watching. The chemistry stays strong throughout, but the real payoff is how the story keeps guiding them back toward vulnerability instead of letting pride win.

Art

Maru Kubota’s art suits this stage of the relationship because it’s tuned to microbeats. The series doesn’t need grand gestures to feel charged. And that’s precisely the language Vol. 3 is written in, especially as the couple navigates how public they want to be.

The aquarium sequence is a perfect example of why the setting matters visually. It gives the book room for genuine, unthreatened closeness, moments that aren’t sparked by worry, rivalry, or a perceived “danger” to the relationship. It’s a space where they can exist together, quietly, and the art can focus on softness instead of tension. At the same time, the school scenes sharpen the contrast. When the classmate starts hovering around Amane, the vibe changes with something as small as spacing in a panel, who stands too close, who watches from a slight distance, who looks away first.

Themes

The headline theme here is visibility. Vol. 3 is less about getting together and more about deciding what “together” looks like in a world that can still make queerness feel like something to manage. That’s why the “how much do we share” question matters so much. Jealousy plays into that theme in a surprisingly grounded way. It’s not only about fear of losing Amane. It’s also about what it means for Ryuuji to want something that feels precious, then realize that other people can see it too.

Verdict

Between the everyday tension and the softness of the aquarium date, the volume makes it crystal clear that this is a duo learning how to overcome obstacles together.

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