This was one of the first yuri stories I ever read, and it's certainly quite moving to see it arrive at a conclusion. Sometime's a writer I find quite interesting, since there runs through a lot of their work, longer and shorter, an intent to play around with expectations of genre and appearance, not necessarily looking to 'subvert' them (a term that often tends to impose a false homogeneity upon the subject of its presumed overturn), but to texture them with queerness. This is manifested, of course, in their foregrounding of queer characters themselves, but this also extends into a wider illumination of queer readings and themes implicit in the conventions and appeals of a genre- in case of this story, the transforming sentai heroes who become truer and grander versions of themselves (I love how they yell "Trans Up!") in recognition of a common, generally outside threat such as aliens, are 'claimed' by queer characters who use them to protect their status quos, finding a sense of self and a place in the system by recognizing the virtues of humanity and working to protect it.
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Sometime is thus able to masterfully deploy and interweave themes of queerness into the series at levels so deep that it goes beyond just being 'tokusatsu with lesbians' and is able instead to breathe into the tropes of the genre an entire micro-epic of queerness, lending it incredible relevance and vitality and letting it become every bit as cathartic, heart-pounding and inspiring as a more traditional sentai series might be to a child nostalgically looking back on the past. Sometimes, then, doesn't merely revive that past, but is able to actively reclaim it, to engage with the exclusionary tropes of a genre that may make queer viewers feel alienated and meaningfully challenge them, even as they also present us with queer heroes and queer optimism, allowing their characters to be more than heroes or villains firing at each other across lines in the sand. The transformations, combinations, costumes and explosions key to the genre are made delightfully camp, bringing to the forefront the implications of fluidity, transitions and fulfillment-in-cohesion that younger or less prudent viewers may have missed, even as those performances necessarily reveal the falseness of an absolute virtue and vice and emphasize instead authenticity in the moment and the interweaving of personal rhythms into a symphony that celebrates individuality, the masquerade that bursts joyously into unity and revelation. All in all, it works delightfully to not only recolor a popular genre in queer hues, but to assertively create within it a space for both subversion and expansion, and is a shining example of what a skillful 'queering' of a traditionally masculinist, cisheteronormative genre can achieve, making it both truer to itself philosophically and capable of socially-relevant reinvention. I loved this series, plan to reread it soon, and am also quite interested in Sometime's current Afterschool Re-Reincarnation, which seems to be aiming for a similarly innovative queer-rebuilding of the DQ-inspired-isekai genre.
I was going to post a meme reply but I think you are quite correct. I didn't realize it while reading the manga, but your argument that the story is deeply related to queerness really resonated (heh) with me, as a lot of what you mentioned about alienation, transformation, utopian normalcy, and so on in the manga align with what I understand about queerness and becoming accepted by yourself and your community, when I thought about it a little. Really great comment.
