You wake up in this soft, sugar-sweet all-girls academy where everything looks clean, polite, kind of like those mobile romance apps that pretend to be wholesome while everyone is secretly dripping with horny energy. You’re the new assistant teacher, which already feels wrong, because the way some of these students look at you is not “Sensei please help with homework” and more “Sensei I absolutely want to ruin your life with my thighs.” At first it feels like a normal school day: you walk the halls, talk to the girls, check their work, act like a responsible adult. Except their smiles are just a little too shiny, their memories slip a bit when you ask simple questions, and sometimes a girl says something that sounds like she already fucked you in a scene that never happened. It’s like your brain has save files you don’t remember making. One girl clings to your arm and calls you by a pet name you’re sure you never told her. Another one knows exactly what you’ll say before you say it. The romance here isn’t slow burn, it’s like someone already burned it once and you’re watching the leftover smoke.

The fun part is when the flirting starts feeling like déjà vu porn. You flirt with a shy class rep in an empty classroom, her hands shaking while she tries to confess some “secret.” She says this is her first time, but her dialogue feels weirdly polished, like she’s reading from a script she’s read a hundred times. You grab her waist, push her against the desk, her skirt rides up, and you get this strange sting in your head, like you did this exact scene before with different lighting. You keep going anyway, obviously. Her panties are damp, she’s biting your name, and for a second the whole background glitches and then snaps back. She acts like nothing happened and you’re the only one left breathing hard, wondering if this world is just looping your dirtiest choices. It’s horny, yeah, but also a tiny bit creepy in that “I should probably close this tab but I won’t” way. Sex scenes hit that mix of soft and filthy: girls that moan like good romance heroines but they’re also begging to be choked a little, or to be praised like they’re your perfect student while you rail them over the teacher’s desk. There’s one scene in the nurse’s office that goes from tender to absolutely feral the second the door “accidentally” locks and she asks you to check more than just her temperature. I got distracted staring at the little UI buttons during that scene because they don’t match the tone at all, they look like they belong in some cutesy otome, and it annoyed me more than it should. Anyway, the more you chase the girls and unlock their routes, the more the whole fake-school vibe breaks apart, like a horny dream that starts to remember it’s a nightmare. You’re supposed to guide your students, but half the time it feels like they’re luring you into repeating something you already did, like they’re trying to drag you back into old saves where you made worse choices. And the messed up thing is, the game kind of makes that feel hot.

Kohei comes back to his old town for something boring like university, and instead walks straight into the kind of summer that fucks with your head for years after. It looks harmless at first. Childhood streets, cicadas screaming, cheap fans pushed to their limit, that older girl next door who used to ruffle his hair and laugh too loud. Misaki feels like she should be safe territory, familiar, almost family, this cozy fantasy of “onee-san who waited for you”. The game knows that expectation and plays with it in a way that’s honestly pretty mean. She’s still teasing, still bright on the surface, but her eyes slip away at weird moments, her smile freezes half a second too long. Small details like that. You pick a flirty choice, she laughs, leans in, you can almost smell her sweat and shampoo mix, and then some other guy’s name casually comes up and your stomach drops. It’s not subtle, and it’s not gentle.

The horny parts grow slowly, like mold in a corner you pretend not to see. At first you’re just choosing where to spend a day, which cheap cafe, whether to help her carry groceries. One scene you’re alone with Misaki in her apartment, the sun too bright through thin curtains, her in a loose tank top and shorts that ride up when she sits cross-legged. She offers you iced tea, your hand brushes her thigh when you take the glass, she goes quiet for a second. That silence is hotter than any moaning later. The game loves those tiny pauses, the routes where nothing explicit happens yet are somehow dirtier in your head than the straight-up sex scenes. Then there are the runs where you lean into the NTR sickness on purpose, like poking a bruise. Letting her reply to that late-night message. Choosing not to follow her when she “just goes to meet an old friend”. Coming back to a half-buttoned blouse, a faint smell that is not your cologne, and a CG that stings more because she is still smiling at you like she wants to protect you from what already happened. It gives you options to avoid that, sure, to keep things “pure” and romantic, but you feel the game secretly smirking when you pick them, like a producer forced to include a vanilla route to keep the sponsors calm.

What makes it interesting for me as a genre nerd is how it plays with POV shifts. One route you’re stuck inside Kohei’s head, rationalizing, pretending it’s fine, one bad choice, no big deal. On another, it flips and suddenly you’re watching scenes where you’re not supposed to be present at all, getting that ugly voyeur thrill. Sometimes you see Misaki from another guy’s eyes, the way he studies the sweat creeping along her neck, the way her body reacts even when her voice says “we shouldn’t”. That’s where the eroticism goes from simple horny to slightly cruel, because it forces you to admit that her desire is not a thing you own. And still the game offers proper romance lines, soft endings where you manage to hold on to her and build something tender out of all this mess. Those paths feel almost suspicious, like you wandered into a different title hosted on the same site by accident. But that contrast gives the sex extra charge. A slow kiss in a quiet room means one thing when you trust her; the same CG, same pose, after you saw what she did in another route, becomes loaded with paranoia, with “who touched you like this yesterday”. It is not elegant writing, not “high art”, but it understands really well how lust, jealousy, nostalgia and that stupid first-love hope all bleed into each other and make you click “next” even when you already hate the ending you know you’re walking toward.