If you watch a lot of anime or play galge, you’re probably familiar with a certain setup. In Japanese otaku-oriented fiction, the most common one is the “harem.” This “harem” is a bit different from the Qing dynasty harem dramas we’re used to. Even if it’s somewhat similar to something like The Deer and the Cauldron, it’s still not quite the same. Japanese harems mostly consist of “the male lead maintaining ambiguous relationships with multiple women for a long time but never fucking confessing.” Because Japan is monogamous, you see—if you confess, that means the other women are done for, game over, loser dogs, and the harem loses its meaning. This “harem” thing thrives on that borderline-level ambiguity. You can be naked and hugging all sorts of girls, you can see their entire bodies, you can kiss, you can grab tits, you can even touch pussy, but as long as you don’t stick it in, you and she are just ambiguous, the other women still have a chance, and your harem can continue. So the actual fucking is generally the bottom line. Most harem works never cross that line—unless they’re heading for the ending. However, “harem” in the context of a galgame is a different picture entirely… Because galgames have no bottom line, harems split into “true harem” and “fake harem.” “True harem” is exactly what it sounds like—ハーレム—the male lead does 3P, 4P, 5678P… all sorts of indescribable things. “Fake harem” is still the manga/anime routine: all sorts of ambiguity, all the heroines like the protagonist, but since it’s a galgame you’ll definitely hit a home run and it won’t drag on without an ending like some dumbass manga or light novel. Most harem setups go like this: Ahuhu is an unbelievably ordinary high schooler. At home he has a sister who’s an unbelievably brocon and hates squid, next door lives a childhood friend named Xiaozhu who walks to school with him every day, the student council president at school is a sharp-tongued girl who deliberately picks fights with him every day, and meanwhile Ahuhu has a crush on some girl in the school library—a recent transfer student he ran into by chance on the train one time. Ahuhu keeps saying he has no luck with love, but the story ends with his sister wanting to marry him, Xiaozhu insisting she’s just a childhood friend while actually masturbating to him every day, the student council president being a tsundere who’s crazy about him and only picks fights to talk to him more, and the library girl actually liking him too but unable to say it no matter what, keeping it bottled up inside… So Ahuhu, while humbly calling himself a loser, simultaneously juggles all these beautiful girls like some romance-blind KY idiot, until some event triggers a choice and a confession… Familiar? Clichéd? I can’t say for manga and light novels, but at least most galgames follow a similar setup… Honestly, this setup has plenty of holes, especially the protagonist claiming he has zero luck with women: “You motherfucker Ahuhu, your luck with women is off the charts!” You get used to complaining about this stuff. Some games try to break out of the framework, but they always roll back in the end… After all, if you want to write multiple heroines, this is the only way… what else can you do… Yeah, what else can you do? Well, a company called Hook gave us a different answer, showing us what a harem looks like when it doesn’t follow the formula…

A while back I was mulling something over: Which visual novel actually delivers a romance experience closest to the real thing? If I’m forced to answer, the first thing that pops into my head is a game from a company called SMEE. Yeah, SMEE and HOOKSOFT are basically the same outfit. They bill themselves as focusing on “romance by stages” — the whole hero-meets-heroine, gets to know her, falls for her, and then, uh, conspires with her… wait, no, marries her kind of flow. That’s what they say on the tin, but the games themselves don’t always look that way. How to put it — a lot of SMEE games feel like gag routines strung together through everyday life. Early on, Fureraba Friend to Lover wasn’t that blatant about it. But later stuff like Pure×Connect and Step Kanojo started leaning harder into comedy, using exaggerated presentation to sell the heroines’ quirks and the protagonist’s snark. Sometimes the protagonist himself turns into a total creep just so you have something to roast. SMEE’s comedy path keeps veering further off course, though. Last game, that “country love” one, was basically a joke collection — the heroines had no personality, the art was unsettling, and I had a genuinely painful time playing it. Listening to Honda-san’s country ojou-sama rattle off scatological jokes one after another, plus bits about a bunch of people observing sperm… I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. The confession at the end was cookie-cutter and half-hearted, and it wrapped up out of nowhere. Personally, I prefer the style of early SMEE like Fureraba. There the conversations center on “getting to know the girl,” most choices are about communicating with her, and many of the women feel close to real romance — especially Mochizuki Rina and the vegetable-selling senpai Sawatari Misaki. That’s why I say SMEE’s games are closer to real love. And now SMEE is back with a new title: Making＊Lovers. Still about the player searching for a partner, still that witty, chatty style. They even put out a super simple preview version first — a few minutes of dialogue per heroine, nothing you could really judge. A trial version came later, but I couldn’t be bothered since the game was about to launch. After finishing the retail version, I have to say this is probably SMEE’s second-best game in recent years, after Fureraba.

Last week in Zhengzhou I met up with a friend from Beijing who works at a well-known internet company with business all over the country. He’s fairly famous on G+ as a road-bike inner-thigh chafing specialist and senior programmer critic, “Neo Slixurd.” Since his name is Neo and he’s gay, I usually call him “Genio,” or just “Genniao” for short. Chatting with Genniao is always a good time. We started by discussing whether “Princess Xiaozhu is actually an idiot,” and quickly reached a consensus. The conversation later drifted to the fact that I play galgames. What Genniao was most curious about was how I learned Japanese so fast. It wasn’t fast at all, honestly — play porn games every day and you’ll learn fast too. My experience with that is documented here. His second question was how many games I actually play. By my own count, I got through about 80 last year. That number isn’t exactly accurate, since I personally treat galgames as novels — meaning I only read “the main ending the game anoints as canon.” Every other ending is just a “possibility” to me. If you’re in love with a heroine you can fantasize about it, but it’s not the real story. So for most games, unless it’s something like Hatsuyuki Sakura that splits the whole story apart, I just take the main route and skim the rest. A single game isn’t that long either — if you clear every route, according to ErogameScape most Japanese players need about 19 hours. That’s not so bad, but who plays this stuff every single day? Finally we got onto where galgame stories are headed. Genniao said the games he’s played are all older ones or the more famous ones, and he has no idea what the newest stuff is like. I explained that most of the newest games are still clichéd as hell — a notch above the current mainstream seasonal anime in overall quality, sure, but that’s just a product of the audience. ErogameScape stats show most eroge players are in the 25–30 age bracket, not the under-20 elementary-schooler tier you get watching anime on Bilibili in this country. “Honestly most eroge plots are pretty stupid. Like the one I’ve been playing recently.” And that’s how I brought up Hataraku Otaku no Renai Jijou.

I was already suspicious of Hatsukoi Sankai-me from the moment I saw the promo material. The title literally means “third-time first love.” First love is supposed to emphasize the first, right? Once you’re past the first time, the second one can’t be called a first love anymore. So how the hell do you get three of them? I wasn’t interested in the game to begin with. The promo looked whatever, the lead heroine was voiced by Sendai-baasan, and I didn’t recognize anyone else in the cast. The only reason I wanted to play it was the little sister voiced by Uehara Aoi… And no, I’m not a siscon. I need to make that clear. What I didn’t expect was that after playing it, it actually exceeded my expectations. Hell, it might be the first game this year I’ve seen that “gets its story completely straightened out.” At the very least it’s at the level of a good title, right? The only real mystery for me was why the protagonist’s romance is called a “third first love.” Honestly, I went in expecting the game to give me a proper explanation.

前一阵玩nukige太多了，然后nukige玩多了又玩了一票废萌キャラゲー，觉得自己还是应该回到“故事导向”的基本路线上来，搜了下看到了我个人非常喜欢的《紙の上の魔法使い》的脚本师的一个早期作品，叫做《運命予報をお知らせします》,简单看了下日本人在中二空间对它的评价，觉得应该没问题，也就开始玩了。 The game is supposed to be only a dozen hours or so, but it felt longer than I expected. I came away pleasantly surprised, maybe because it’d been a while since I’d played something with writing this good. It got to the point that after finishing it, I booted up the newly released Floral Flowlove (フローラル・フローラブ) and just couldn’t take the gap in prose quality between the two. The former reads like something a college student would write; next to it, the latter is straight-up middle-schooler level…… Anyway, probably because my Japanese has gotten better, I’ve started finding a lot of really dumb phrasing genuinely stupid — it’s not just about clawing my way to understanding the meaning anymore.

When we were little, we all read fairy tales. The funny thing is, in fairy tales the protagonist is almost always a little girl. And the story is almost always about a frail girl and the prince who protects her. Boys read them and want to be the prince, protecting their princess. Girls read them and want to be the princess, finding a prince who’ll protect them. I tried to recall the fairy tales I knew as a kid, and was surprised to find they don’t really skew by gender. Boys and girls read the same tales — explorations of strange worlds, the same prince-and-princess stories passed down for generations. But time passes, boys and girls grow up, and maybe they’ve all quietly accepted that the fairy tales they heard were lies. Most boys no longer believe in a princess worth protecting, and most girls don’t really dream of a prince coming to save them anymore. Thinking back on those old tales brings a wry smile. I can’t tell if it’s nostalgia, or the feeling that the kid who believed this stuff was kind of ridiculous. Still, the fairy tales never stopped. They keep telling the story of prince and princess, for whoever’s willing to listen.

Mashiroiro Symphony’s tagline goes: what color are boys? What color are girls? And when a boy and a girl fall in love, what color is love itself? Koi ga Saku Koro Sakura Doki’s tagline goes: a girl who can’t fall in love, and a boy with no interest in it — if the two of them fall in love, what happens to the world? Alright — Palette and 和泉つばす teaming up again. The title still has that high-class, faintly bittersweet ring to it, that pure longing-for-love vibe. That’s what I figured at first too: Koi ga Saku Koro Sakura Doki (恋がさくころ桜どき) is nothing more than a plain… school… boy-slowly-works-his-way-through-the-heroines story. A little sweeter at most, something along the lines of Sena Airi’s and Uryuu Sakuno’s routes. What’s the worst it could do? Drag things out like Kanna Sana’s route? Except that’s not true at all!