Just as Koze Furukawa was tearing his hair out, his chest tight with pent-up frustration he couldn't release, a line of text appeared in the subtitles:
[ Producer: Kogahara Tsubakiaki ]
Aoki Haruhi chose not to use his real name as the producer primarily because the game was essentially a galgame. If he'd used his real name, it might have forever branded him as a galgame developer, making it difficult to transition to other genres later.
Moreover, he had no intention of staying in the galgame industry long-term. As soon as this game made enough money, his next project would abandon the galgame format entirely. Using a pseudonym was the perfect solution.
In the game industry, it's common for producers and developers to use pen names. The producer of Fate, Kinoko Nasu, is a prime example of this.
Sometimes, Aoki Haruhi even wondered if Kinoko Nasu had done the same thing for the same reason—to create distance and escape later.
But becoming famous under a pseudonym was a dangerous thing.
The name Kogahara Tsubakiaki had been chosen casually by Aoki Haruhi, a pseudonym he planned to abandon after Onmyoji ended. He hadn't given it much thought.
If anyone ever questioned him in the future, Aoki Haruhi could simply say, "What does Kogahara Tsubakiaki's work have to do with me, Aoki Haruhi?"
But for Koze Furukawa, it was different.
He had burned that producer's name into his memory and cursed it a hundred times in his heart.
Kogahara Tsubakiaki...
Die!
Then came—
[ Scriptwriter: Ishino Mika ]
Ishino Mika...
Die!
Huh?
Koze Furukawa froze, surprised that such a script could come from a woman.
But—
Die!
He didn't stop cursing the writer just because she was a woman. The ending was truly unbearable.
Checking the time, it was already past ten in the morning.
That meant Furukawa had pulled an all-nighter while he'd been completely unaware.
This game was too addictive.
Fortunately, it was the weekend, so he didn't have to go to work.
Putting down the controller, Koze Furukawa pressed his hand to his forehead, his brain feeling foggy. More importantly, the fire in his chest burned hotter and hotter.
He'd already felt an urge to kill when Kurai Tsuki was stabbed.
But who could have expected—
The idiot producer had actually stabbed Yuuki Rei.
Damn it, how could I stand this?
Furukawa threw himself onto his bed, rolled over, and tried to sleep.
But he tossed and turned, unable to sleep.
Every time he closed his eyes, the game's scenes flashed before him—
Yuuki Rei plummeting from the sky, Ame no Murakumo in hand.
Asakura Haruka walking alone through the snow-covered wilderness.
Yuuki Rei's smile, and everything that had happened, replayed in his mind like a flickering zoetrope, each memory playing over and over.
These memories crawled into his closed eyelids like ants, burrowing into Furukawa's brain and gnawing away at it...
"Damn it..."
The pain was unbearable.
In the past, the girls he'd "met" in those blue games had left little impression on Furukawa.
At most, it was, "Wow, this character's cup size is huge," or "Her legs are so long."
But after the initial rush, what did he actually remember?
Nothing, really.
And those previous characters were all pixelated, their beauty only perceivable through his imagination and the written descriptions.
This time, Yuuki Rei's image had taken root in his mind like a seed, sprouting and growing, impossible to forget.
Yet, the sorrow that filled his chest wouldn't let him cry, a pain far worse than heartbreak.
"Damn it!"
Koze Furukawa shot up from bed, groggily preparing to turn on his game console.
But as he gripped the controller, he found himself frozen in hesitation.
He stood there, rooted in place for about half a minute, before abruptly tossing the controller aside and scrambling back under the covers.
"Aah~"
He wanted to play again, but he didn't have the courage.
What kind of godforsaken game was this?
Onmyoji.
It felt like it had drained his very soul.
But was the game good?
Furukawa couldn't deny it—
This was, without a doubt, a masterpiece.
If it weren't so brilliant, he wouldn't be suffering like this.
Onmyōji received a remarkably positive reception upon its release.
Although many players, after experiencing the game, unanimously agreed to demand justice from Pokeni, hoping they would change the ending, the game's overall evaluation was unexpectedly high.
No galgame had ever delivered such a profound impact on its players.
Normally, galgames are games you can savor countless times, revisiting them whenever you feel the urge or need to relive the experience.
But Onmyōji was an anomaly—
Even though you knew the characters were well-written and the artwork was exquisite, and any single female character could ignite your ideal fantasies of womanhood,
Once you finished the game and experienced it fully, you lost the courage to play it again.
"This is just... awful. This game really hit me hard. The art style, the story—everything made me feel like I'd stumbled upon a rare masterpiece. And the ending... it was so cathartic, so devastating, I couldn't put it down.
Who could have imagined it would end like this?"
"Yeah, when Ling died, I really couldn't believe it was real."
Normally, I'd be too embarrassed to talk about playing galgames with anyone, but Onmyoji had this special magic that made you want to spill your guts.
And this game was such a breath of fresh air in the galgame world—not a hint of lewdness anywhere.
Everyone was like a group of widowed mourners, sharing the shock and pain this game had inflicted on them.
Maybe only by doing this could their fragile, shattered hearts find a sliver of solace.
Four days after finishing the game, Furukawa finally found the so-called Onmyōji Community Gathering through some channels.
The place was almost entirely filled with men, all wearing somber expressions.
Only here, seeing each other's faces, could they find a tiny bit of warmth in the bitter winter.
"I don't have the courage to play it again. Can you tell me if there are any other endings?" Koze Furukawa felt like asking this question had drained all his strength.
Some grief is truly unbearable.
"Hm? I don't know. I haven't managed to trigger a second ending yet."
"Damn it! What kind of twisted producer could have come up with a plot like this?!"
"Seriously. I want to grab a knife and storm Pokeni to force them to change the ending."
"At least give us multiple endings!"
In reality, the concept of "multiple endings" didn't exist in popular games at the time. The creation of "what-if" scenarios would only emerge two years later with Classmates, and the idea would gradually spread to galgames and standard RPGs.
"Kogahara Tsubakiaki!" Koze Furukawa spat the name through gritted teeth. "The producer's name is Kogahara Tsubakiaki!"
"Die!"
The others glanced at him, then nodded to each other. "Kogahara Tsubakiaki!"
"Die!!"
But... Furukawa frowned uncomfortably. "For me, Onmyoji is perfect precisely because of this ending."
"..."
The others fell silent in unison.
After a moment, someone spoke:
"Onmyoji... it really is a masterpiece!"
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