I haven’t played that many eroge, but I’ve played some. A few of them I’d call genuinely worthwhile, and plenty I’d call garbage. Even in the garbage there’s usually a pattern. Most of it comes from a planner or a writer trying to make a big splash, or forcing some baffling twist that ends up as a botched imitation of something better. The stuff that’s honestly made to cater to a specific taste rarely has these landmines. Siscon games, for instance. Siscon games are pure in their positioning and simple in their pacing. The protagonist is the older brother, the heroine is the little sister, or “little sisters.” Some flirting, and that’s about it. The occasional darker entry still doesn’t betray the core idea: showing “the little sister’s love for her brother.” However twisted it gets, it’s still love, right? Chopping off your brother’s head, dissecting him—that’s love too, isn’t it? Yandere is still a kind of dere. So for a long time I figured “playing a siscon game” could never go wrong. At worst it’d be dumb, or look silly, but it wouldn’t disgust you, right? Even if the system is boneheaded and the plot is idiotic, the little sister is innocent. The creator’s intention to give you a cute sister is not wrong, right? I’m not a siscon, but I can still find some comfort and warmth in these games. Say what you will, they’re honestly handing out sugar. Between siscon fans there’s nothing but resistance to social norms and mutual understanding—nothing like those otaku who spend all day hurting each other. It’s so full of love. To borrow a line from the famous internet personality “Crazy Bull Hermit”: “Siscon brothers are all friends.” Of course, there are no eternal friends—until I ran into Chitchana Hanayome.