Akira is the kind of walking disaster protagonist I like: dude’s broken, horny, and way too easy to manipulate. His girl Yuki died in a car crash, and he’s stuck in that grief spiral where your brain mixes sex and pain until it feels the same. Then he ends up at this creepy Kagetsu mansion with his hot professor Akane, who has that strict academic vibe that screams “I grade your papers and your stamina.” The place looks dead, rotten, like nobody has lived there in forever. But when Akira sleeps, the whole thing flips. Suddenly the mansion is alive and pretty again, servants walking around, warm lights, soft carpets, all that fake safety feeling. And in that dream version, there’s Sayuri, the elegant hostess who talks like she knows every dirty thought you had at puberty, her obedient maid Mizuki, and her daughter Momiji who is way too sweet in a place that smells like a curse. Oh, and Yuki. Back from the dead. Smiling. Breathing. Moaning. Not rotting. You feel it right away: this place is wrong as fuck, but in a way your dick is very okay with.

The fun thing is how the game makes you sit in Akira’s messed up head. One scene he’s holding Yuki, absolutely convinced this is his second chance, clinging to her like she’ll vanish if he blinks. Next scene he’s in the real ruined mansion, sweating, mind full of weird whispers and flashes of Sayuri’s eyes looking at him like he’s already owned. The erotic bits hit harder because they’re tangled with guilt: when Yuki is on top of him, begging him not to leave her again, you almost forget there’s something rotten behind her smile. Then the game undercuts it with small details, like the way the wallpaper pattern twitches at the corner of the screen, or how her voice overlaps with another woman’s for half a line. It’s not jumpscare horror, more that slow “why is my boner making me feel unsafe” vibe. There are routes, choices, all that usual visual novel stuff, but the nice part is how it likes to tease you with the “good” path where you can save Yuki, then quietly push you closer to this fucked up god in the mansion that clearly wants more than just your soul. Sometimes the pacing drags and a scene talks in circles, but then suddenly you get a moment like Mizuki kneeling in the hallway, collar on, reciting some ritual text while her hands shake, and it hooks you right back into that mix of ritual, sex, and fear. By the time you notice that every “comfort” scene is just another chain around Akira’s neck, you already picked the choice that tightens it.