"Hiss—ahh~"
Sayoko let out a soft moan as Fuyukawa's hands kneaded her smooth, pale trapezius muscles. A tingling, sour sensation surged through her, and her body curled inward like a kitten's.
Office workers have two pain points: the lower back and the trapezius muscles from neck to shoulders. Hours of sitting make those areas stiff and sore, and when someone digs in with a massage, the relief is intense—anyone who's been there gets it.
"No need to rush. Start slow, get a feel for the character, and the rest will come easier once you really understand her," Fuyukawa said, his hands working her shoulders.
He wasn't just comforting her. Beginnings are always the hardest. In game development, nailing down character designs early on is one of the toughest hurdles for an artist. Once the design's locked in, tweaking poses or expressions is comparatively simple.
Sayoko knew this too. She didn't resist his touch, just tucked her long skirt's hem under her pale thighs on the computer chair, arms crossed, her face flushing shyly. "I get it, Tetsu-kun. Hiss—gently, you can… ah~."
Her eyes grew hazy. Then, Fuyukawa's hands slid upward, cupping her cheeks and chin, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "Enjoying my massage that much?"
The question hung in the air.
Her chin lifted, cheeks flushed red, Sayoko's eyes shimmered like they might spill over. She didn't answer, just nuzzled her face gently against his not-too-rough hands, soft and compliant.
A warm summer breeze stirred the curtains, and the room's atmosphere turned thick with tension.
Gazing up at Fuyukawa's smoldering eyes, Sayoko reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck. Her body rose instinctively, her face inching closer.
Smack.
Sweet, like candy.
Fuyukawa closed his eyes, savoring the moment. As passion deepened, his hands tightened, lifting her chin higher.
"I… can't breathe…" Sayoko murmured.
Her pale neck stretched upward, chin caught in his strong grip. The breathless sensation made her eyes even dreamier, almost drifting upward. Her cheeks and neck flushed red from the lack of air. Then, Fuyukawa's hands left her chin.
Her floral sundress began to slide northward.
"Mmm~"
+10,000!
–15,000!
The straps of her dress, her hands bound by a red ribbon—Sayoko trembled, her eyes brimming with desire but also panic. Just then, the door rattled with a loud knock.
"Yoko-chan, I'm starving for lunch!" Izumi's voice called out.
"…"
The mood shattered. Fuyukawa's face twisted into a "this kid's gonna get it" scowl. Sayoko, catching his expression, gave a warm smile, leaned up, and pecked his lips lightly. "Tetsu-kun, you're so naughty. It's work hours, you know," she teased, giggling.
"Tch, says the one who started it," he shot back.
"...Hmph, I'm ignoring you. Time to cook!" Sayoko huffed, scurrying off.
Lunch was… quiet. Or rather, quiet for Fuyukawa.
Sayoko was in high spirits, humming as she cooked, served, and ate. Izumi, meanwhile, shoveled food while texting classmates nonstop.
Fuyukawa, though, was stewing with resentment toward the black-haired high schooler.
Maybe sensing his frustration, halfway through the meal, Sayoko boldly slid her bare foot—free of stockings—onto Fuyukawa's waist under the table.
The sudden move nearly made him choke on his miso soup.
You're playing with fire! his eyes said.
Don't like it? hers replied.
Their gazes locked, reading each other perfectly. Fuyukawa sighed, then shook his head with a smile. Sayoko was shy by nature, but her boldness now showed how much she trusted and relied on him.
Still…
"When I tried to push further earlier, her panic outweighed her desire. Gotta take it slow," he thought.
Lunch went faster than breakfast. Izumi, rushing to a gig, wolfed down her food and left with her guitar. Sayoko, eager to get back to work, picked up her pace with the chopsticks.
By 12:30, they were back in the second-floor studio.
No lingering on the earlier moment.
Both Fuyukawa and Sayoko were laser-focused during work mode. But while Fuyukawa was finding his groove, Sayoko's progress stalled.
Every time she sketched a character's framework, something felt off. She'd scrap it and start over. Sketch, revise, sketch, revise—until the sun dipped low outside, she finally set down her tablet, slumping back in her chair, defeated.
"No matter how I draw, it's wrong. Am I… just not good enough?" she murmured, staring at sparrows on a telephone pole outside, her heart heavy with frustration.
Fuyukawa swiveled his chair, grabbed a glass of water, and took a sip. "Still off, huh?"
"Yeah," Sayoko said, ruffling her hair in frustration. "I can draw these two characters fine on their own, but they're sisters. I want to capture that connection between them, but it feels… beyond me."
"Let me see." Fuyukawa set down his glass, took her tablet, and swiped through her sketches.
At first, his expression was neutral, but after a few, he frowned.
"You think it's off too, don't you?" Sayoko sat up, nervous, hands gripping her thighs.
Fuyukawa nodded, then shook his head. "Your first sketch was actually decent. But the later ones… they got worse with each revision."
"Worse…" The critique stung, and Sayoko flinched.
Fuyukawa continued, "I can tell your later drawings have more detail and thought, but you're overthinking it. You're trying to cram every element in, wanting players to see Rin Tohsaka's complexity at first glance. It ends up feeling chaotic—at least to me."
"I get it… I was thinking about a lot while drawing," Sayoko admitted, deflated.
Seeing her expression, Fuyukawa sighed softly. This was why, despite a decade in the industry, Sayoko was stuck at mid-level artist, Lv9: she overthought everything.
In Fate, Rin Tohsaka's initial role is the Tohsaka family's refined heiress. That "heiress" tag needs to shine first. But Sayoko, knowing the full story, layered in traits like "resilient personality" and "self-sacrificing sister" too early, even letting them dominate. Since the story hadn't reached those points yet, players would feel a disconnect.
It's like Jiraiya in Naruto. Early on, he's just "one of the Sannin" and "pervy." Simple, engaging tags. As the story progresses, you add "great teacher," "tragic hero," and "selfless martyr," deepening the character until his death in the Rain Village hits peak emotional impact. If you introduced Jiraiya with all those traits during his first scene trapping Itachi with a toad's stomach, it'd feel forced and confusing.
That was Sayoko's problem. Her sensitivity let her pick up subtle emotions from the script that others missed, but she couldn't prioritize which tags to highlight first. She wanted everything, and it threw off the balance, burying the focus.
It all came down to overthinking. Her mind wasn't relaxed.
Fuyukawa's gaze drifted to a bottle of red wine glinting in the sunset. He turned to the disheartened Sayoko. "How about a drink?"