Tatsuhiko Takimoto - Welcome to the NHK!

“In short, the main goal when creating erotic game characters is to set up a reason why the heroine cannot defy the main character. You do this when you define the initial situation. She must obey any order from the main character, she must listen, and she must love the main character unconditionally. These techniques can help you fulfill these requirements as much as possible.”

I thought it was best not to think too deeply about this.

In utter desperation, I asked, “Well, what about a classmate who is both a childhood friend and a robot maid?”

“That’s a great set up!” Yamazaki answered, a sincere look on his face.

“Well, how about the additional scenario that she was the main character’s lover in her previous life?”

“Th-that’s amazing!”

“On top of that, she’s sickly and blind and can’t speak, either. The only person she can rely on is the main character. How about that?”

“That’s absolutely perfect, isn’t it?!”

“Also, she’s got Alzheimer’s.”

“Good choice!”

“Not to mention suffering from multiple personality disorder.”

“Perfect!”

“She’s actually an alien.”

“Great!”

This discussion continued for several hours; as a result, we finally decided on the set up for the heroine of the erotic game I was to write.

“She’s the protagonist’s childhood friend as well as a robot maid. She’s blind, deaf, and sickly; on top of that, she’s an alien with Alzheimer’s and multiple personality disorder. However, she’s actually a ghost with a connection to the main character from their past lives. And her true form is really a fox spirit.”

“Wow, amazing! It’s perfect! It’s moe moe!

“Hm …”

“What is it, Satou? You can start writing the scenario right away.”

“Uh … Uh …”

“Uh?”

“How the hell can I write something like this? I’ll do it my own way!” I kicked Yamazaki and went back to my own room.

It was already two o’clock in the morning.

What the hell has happened to us? I tried worrying about this, but in the end, we were just two no-good hikikomori types, after all. I decided to continue my escape from reality.

That’s right! Speaking of escapism, the best thing would be to create an erotic game.

That’s why I’d write the scenario right away!

Several days passed quickly.

“A journey through love and youth made by soldiers taking a stand against a giant, evil organization …” This was the story that I scribbled, as it seemed apropos. In the beginning, it went surprisingly well. The words came fluidly. I was struck by my own literary talent.

Unfortunately, I had encountered a large problem already: The story I was writing was supposed to be an erotic game scenario—and as an erotic game scenario, it needed erotic scenes. In short, to write an erotic story, I had to fully describe lewd scenes. I had to write love scenes thoroughly. It was painful. It was tragic that I, at twenty-two years of age, had to write a wanna-be erotic story. It was too painful.

I had been locked up in my room for three days.

My work was becoming extremely difficult. My scenarios weren’t even moving along at a line an hour. The vocabulary … I have no vocabulary. My brain simply wasn’t equipped with the particular metaphors used in erotic fiction. I had no idea what to do. It took forever just to choose a single word.

More than anything, it was mortifying. What in the world was I thinking, writing such embarrassing sentences? There’s a limit even to escapism. I’d blush, sitting alone in my dark room. My heart would race, I’d break into a cold sweat, my fingers would stop on the keyboard as I typed…. I couldn’t take it any longer. I didn’t want to write erotic scenarios.

Man, I was sick of it. Really, truly sick of it.

I screwed up all my courage, though, and built sentences with the entire focus of my being because I feared that the second I stopped writing the erotic game, the real problems I desperately was trying to ignore would come back in full force. I would have to look straight at the painful truth, and that would be no good. It would, in fact, be bad.

That’s why I used the France Shoin [23] Company that makes erotic fiction. books I had bought as examples as I focused on writing the scenarios. Look for the right vocabulary! Find the metaphor! It was a tiring ordeal. I’d write and delete … Write and delete. My brain was about to unhinge.

“The man unzips his pants and drops his jeans to his knees.”

“Ah, ah, oh no!”

“Sister, sister, sister!”

“And her soft breasts …”

“… beating off…”

No good. Delete.

“Swollen.”

No. Delete.

“It rose high in a manly way.”

Wrong! Delete, delete!

“Piercing the sky.”

Are you kidding?! Delete, delete, delete!

“Soaking wet.”

Wrong!

“Salmon pink.”

I said, ‘wrong!’

“Shining wetly.”

No!

“Stuck wetly to the lower abdomen.”

Stop it!

“Slimy.”

No more!

“Heartbeat.”

I can’t take any more!

“The labia.”

What the hell is wrong with me?

“Shell pink.”

I said, ‘what’s wrong with me?’

“Milky white.”

What’s wrong with me… ?

“Small breasts …”

“… fresh and young …”

“… sweating …”

“… harder …”

“N-no!”

“… sweet sigh …”

“… rubbing up against her …”

“… slightly pointed …”

Other words came to me: “grope” … “undulation” … “insertion” … “hips” … “from her lips” … “grinding” … “sweet” … “like a kitten” … “female body” … “tensed” …

What’s wrong with me…?

“Swollen” … “to the crotch” … “cute” … “urgent” … “hardened” … “light pink” … “want to see” … “okay, it’s fine” … “completely naked” … “nothing left covering her” … “an oval-shaped stain” … “mound” … “slit” …

No more.

“Right below the belly button” … “the private parts” … “make your chest pound” …

I’m done for.

“Swollen” … “breathing quietly” … “simple” … “the bush” … “overflowing honey” … “with her pointer finger” … “it’s almost like you wet yourself” … “impatiently” … “indecent” … “of the membrane” …

What about my life…?

“Swollen” … “piston” … “vulgar” … “crack” …

I can’t see my future.

“Swollen” … “sticky sound” … “wet” … “hot” … “mire” … “plunge in” … “foreskin” … “soft flesh” … “blushing just a little” … “licentious” …

It’s better if I just die.

“Swollen” … “swollen” … “piercing the sky” … “rising high.”

“Swollen” … “swollen” … “swollen” … “swollen” … “swollen!”

AHHHHHH!

I scratched my head.

Delete all, delete all, delete all…

Using a France Shoin book as a model was a mistake from the start. When fiction becomes the reference for fiction, it’s natural that the descriptions get stranger and stranger. I felt like I was going crazy.

I’m okay. Calm down.

Taking a deep breath to soothe myself, I decided to start over from the beginning, using my own real experiences for reference. If I did that, I should be able to draw realistic erotic scenes based on my own nonfiction experiences.