There are works that seek to impress, and others that simply breathe. This visual novel belongs to the latter. It lingers — luxuriates, even — in its words, perhaps too fond of their music. The dialogue stretches on, looping like a half-forgotten melody, yet within that excess there’s a rhythm, a pulse that quietly draws you in.
Visually, it is a triumph. Every line, every shade, seems to glow with intent. The art doesn’t merely depict beauty — it understands it. There’s a sensual intelligence at play, a patience that turns the curve of a smile or the brush of a hand into something almost sacred.
Its moments of intimacy, though abundant, are less about suggestion than exposure — more conflagration than candlelight. They repeat, yes, but like verses of a familiar song, each with its own subtle inflection. The protagonist’s encounters are crude conquests, but also quiet explorations of desire, rendered with a sincerity that disarms and sometimes provokes.
Dialogue is too long, too indulgent, and far too fond of its own poetry — and yet, when the final image fades, one is left not with exhaustion, but a kind of wishful gratitude.
For beneath its ornament and excess, it has a soul — and that, in this genre, is a rarity indeed.