The sky is a tapestry of stars, the night curtain hanging low.
In a quiet alley lit only by moonlight and punctuated by the occasional bark of a dog, a clock ticks past 8:30 p.m.
A black Volkswagen pulls into the parking lot of a house marked with the nameplate "Fuyukawa Family." Fuyukawa Tetsu steps out, greeted by a two-story red-roofed house, modest yet charming, occupying about 80 square meters with a small yard adding another 40. This is the ancestral home of the Fuyukawa family, a classic Japanese ikkodate—a standalone house on privately owned land.
In Japan, owning land means freedom to build as you please, within safety regulations, and pass it down through generations. Most importantly, there's no shared building area to worry about. No common spaces eating into your square footage. So, even at just 80 square meters, when Tetsu opens the door, the house feels surprisingly spacious.
But it's also… lonely.
Click.
The lights flicker on, revealing neatly arranged furniture in an otherwise sparse room. Empty beer cans are stacked in a corner, a silent testament to solitude.
Tetsu doesn't like this vibe.
He flips on every light in the house, settles into the living room with its kotatsu table, and turns on the TV. The cheerful voice of a news anchor fills the space, chasing away some of the gloom. As he sheds his clothes and steps into the bathroom, he sinks into the bathtub.
Splish-splash.
Warm water pours from two faucets, cascading over his shoulders. Tetsu lies back, the day's confident and commanding demeanor gone from his eyes. They're empty now, staring blankly at the ceiling as water pools at the bottom of the tub, creeping up his thighs.
"You're here now, so make peace with it. Stop overthinking."
It's only when the water reaches his chest, pressing against him with its warmth, that he lets out a long breath and slides deeper, relaxing.
Truth be told, the first two days after transmigrating were more thrilling than terrifying. Crossing into a new world, equipped with a system? It felt like the start of a journey to the peak of life.
But after those initial days, feelings of loneliness and confusion began to creep in, eroding his excitement.
A foreign country, an unfamiliar city, no one to care about, and no one who cares about him. The experiences of his past life have vanished like a fleeting dream.
Zhuangzi dreaming of a butterfly? Or a butterfly dreaming of Zhuangzi?
Or maybe just a nap on a summer afternoon?
He hasn't slept well for two days. Last night, it took alcohol to knock him out.
It's an uncomfortable feeling, one Tetsu doesn't like. But he's resilient. His past life, far from perfect, sharpened him into someone who can heal himself. He's confident he can overcome this.
He thought it'd take time to adjust, but—
The memory of Sayako Kawai's parting smile as she stepped onto the subway platform flickers in his mind. Tetsu's expression grows complicated. He slides further into the tub, water lapping just below his nose.
After a moment, he sits up, grabs a towel to dry his hands, and picks up the tablet from the nearby ledge. Opening the "Fate" folder, he summons the system interface.
[Skill Imprinting Scroll Used: Target - Sayako Kawai]
[Imprinted Skill: Intermediate Scene Illustration Lv5]
Before seeing Sayako off at the subway, he used the [Skill Imprinting Scroll] the system gave him. Sayako has three skills: Intermediate Character Illustration Lv9, Intermediate Scene Illustration Lv5, and Advanced Cooking. Cooking was an instant no-go, and since Sayako specializes in character CGs, he chose to imprint [Intermediate Scene Illustration].
"Sayako's character illustration is at Intermediate Lv9, which is solid, but for a galgame, the two most critical elements are characters and story."
Normally, Sayako's skills wouldn't be enough to carry a project like Fate, especially with just the two of them on the team. During their earlier chat, she'd admitted to feeling "not confident enough." But—
"She's been working as an illustrator since graduating university, over a decade now. I've seen her art—her fundamentals are rock-solid, even comparable to some top artists. The main reason she hasn't broken through? Her emotions don't pop."
Tetsu sighs softly.
To him, art is art because it strikes the soul. It's a conversation between spirits. But Sayako's personality is too… restrained. She's like someone bundled up in a thick down jacket, hiding herself.
Sure, she lights up when talking about Fate, but otherwise, she's guarded.
"She has potential but doesn't dare let it loose."
"Now that she's warming up to me, if I play my cards right, I can guide her forward."
Play my cards right.
With that thought, Tetsu's gaze lands on the [Skill Upgrade Scroll]. After a moment's consideration, he drags the scroll onto [Intermediate Scene Illustration] in the system interface.
[Skill Upgrade Successful]
[Intermediate Scene Illustration → Advanced Scene Illustration]
[Note: Skills provide theoretical knowledge and intuition. Practical skills require hands-on practice to fully master; theoretical skills benefit from deep understanding and application.]
The moment the notification appears, a blinding light floods Tetsu's vision. His mind buzzes as countless books materialize before him, pages flipping in an invisible breeze. Words and lines leap from the pages, pouring into his wide, dark eyes.
Siphon!
It's like his soul is siphoning an ocean of text and lines, flooding into his gaze. After what feels like an eternity, the last of the characters and lines are absorbed. Tetsu's tense muscles finally relax.
"Even with the system, this kind of info-dump is rough," he mutters, rubbing his aching temples. But seeing [Advanced Scene Illustration] on the system interface, a smile creeps into his eyes. "Worth it."
For a small-scale galgame, one artist typically handles everything—scene illustration, character designs, UI—to ensure a cohesive aesthetic. But Sayako's current work, while technically proficient, lacks a distinct style or emotional punch.
To put it simply: in the manga world, some art is polished, with gorgeous characters and great proportions, but it lacks vibe or impact. Especially in key scenes, overly realistic art can fail to evoke that "I'm freaking hyped!" feeling.
Her fundamentals are strong, but she's too by-the-book, unable to stir the viewer's emotions.
In simpler terms, she lacks stream-of-consciousness—or rather, she's afraid to pour her emotions into her work or let her instincts guide her brush.
It's a fatal flaw.
Take Togashi-sensei, for example. In Hunter x Hunter's Chimera Ant arc, the scenes of the Ant King playing chess with Komugi are just dialogue. Black panels, no narration, only words.
It's an unconventional approach, yet when the scene finally brightens, revealing the Ant King dying in Komugi's arms, the impact hits like a meteor, lingering endlessly.
That's the power of stream-of-consciousness.
Togashi pulls readers into his mind. Tetsu's goal is to pull Sayako into his—to guide the timid Sayako into following his emotional lead.
His tools? Backgrounds, story, and music.
He'll craft the entire setting, weave in the narrative, and layer it with music. Build the stage, set the mood, and let Sayako forget herself, fully immersing in the world of Fate that he's created.
"'Lose your shame, and in front of me, you can bare everything.' Why does this plot feel so familiar?"
Flashes of certain steamy films cross his mind, and Tetsu scratches his cheek awkwardly.