It is not quite right to call Parfait underrated. It has for most of the last 20 years been consistently among the top 10 highest rated games on erogamescape with a median score of 90. Yet for one of the untranslated classics from the golden era of eroge, it is one that is relatively overlooked by the English-speaking audience. This is despite being cut from the very same fabric as Maruto’s magnum opus, White Album 2.
Perhaps the banal plot synopsis does a little too good of a job in hiding the real substance of the game. Along the streets of Brick Mall that recreate the scenery of Medieval Europe lies a small Western-style antique cafe, “Famille.” Unfortunately for our protagonist, directly across from Famille is the third branch of the overwhelmingly popular cafe “curio,” which “happens” to share the same concept. When an aspiring part-timer suddenly appears, her smile and alluring voice gives our protagonist the feeling that they are going to make it.
Parfait is the third in a series of games featuring a young man, down on his luck, opening a new cafe and hanging out with the maids. Yes, if you had any doubts, this is an SOL heavy game, and if that alone is enough to interest you then you will not be disappointed. Yet even the games most well known for totally ordinary happenings are not usually held in such high regard. What makes Parfait so memorable is a mastery over the stage that is rather lacking in other visual novels.
Maruto’s writing, more so than that of other dialogue heavy writers, has more in common with stage and screen plays than with novels. It is no coincidence that his games are frequently compared to soap operas. He relies less on descriptive imagery and symbolism and more on cadence and spoken delivery. One of the most memorable moments in the game also has the most masterful use of set design I have ever seen in a visual novel, in a scene where Reia and Hitoshi have a sincere talk through the wall in the balcony. There is an extra level of direction to the cg use and sound effects that makes the final product feel truly special.
The typical scene features snappy dialogue, cutting sarcasm, and perfectly timed flashes of wit. The voice actors in particular really sell the lines they are given to work with, and when the emotional tension gets turned up to 11, the result is downright sensational.
This is a style that the Western audience is quite familiar with, but unlike the mean-spirited assholes that typically drive this sharp style of comedy, the characters in Parfait are generally very nice people. Maruto creates the edge necessary for this kind of comedy by applying his own personal sadism as the creator. Because of his intimate knowledge of each character’s wounds and weaknesses, he guides each scene into directions that naturally result in interpersonal conflict, Drama with a capital D. Maruto is more than willing to put his beloved characters through the most painful trials in order to make a good scene, and this is perhaps why his stories are among the most beloved in the genre. This authorial sadism is literally embodied by Kasuri, whose every line whether truthful or not, is spoken with the sole purpose of creating the funniest possible situation (Readers of Maruto’s other works like White Album 2 and Saekano may notice that the sadistic writer personified is a recurring element in his stories).
But with the exception of Kasuri’s meddling, the characters aren’t intentionally trying to undermine each other, which gives the comedy and drama a kinder, more organic flavor, one where malice is auspiciously absent. Maruto presents us a world where cosmic coincidence and the meddling of the gods is enough to draw the most interesting interactions out of the actors.
As if to prove this point, the entire common route consists of mostly unconnected episodes, each with a different permutation of characters. Many of these, and certainly the most interesting of them, have 3 or more characters. Again, fans of Maruto will instantly recognize this formula. It is in these polygonal interactions where the interpersonal relationships between the characters produce the most interesting effects.
At its core, Parfait is a story about underdogs and inferiority complexes, of eternal number 2’s. The protagonist, Hitoshi, lives in the shadow of his deceased older brother, Kazuto. Even their names accentuate the inevitable comparisons between the two, with 仁 (Hitoshi) being an obvious rearrangement of 一人 (Kazuto). That the character for Hitoshi’s name contains the number 2 adds insult to injury. Famille is a blatant rip-off of curio. Kasuri runs away from home where her perfect sister (and head of the clan) runs a storied confectionary (though Famille has another incomparable monster running the show). Reia also looks for her own place in the world, apart from her brilliant and carefree sister. And finally, no heroine’s love can compare to Ema’s love for her brother, who at the same time is not allowed to love the same way everyone else can.
These complexes drive the push and pull in character interactions, and even the most unlikely combinations make the reader want to find out how things will turn out. Scenes starring Ema are especially hilarious. As the world’s #1 brother-con, she shamelessly abuses her nepotistic privileges, only to resign herself haplessly when this familial connection becomes her greatest disadvantage in the eyes of society. While there are clear imbalances of power, the asymmetry of these imbalances averages out. Each character stands on equal footing, and we get to see everyone emerge as the winners and losers in their exchanges. What this ultimately means is that rather than playing a single stereotypical role, each character is put into situations where they are forced to express a full range of emotions.
Like the original marketing team, I find myself hesitant to really say more about the particular details of the story. There is actually quite a lot to say about the individual routes themselves, and the Reia, Ema, and Rikako routes in particular have stratospheric emotional peaks. The plot gimmicks that Maruto sets to drive the primary conflicts in the heroine routes are mostly simple, predictable even. But it is the perfect execution of the script and the earnest delivery of the actors that makes watching it unfold such a delight. Parfait is possibly the best crafted drama in the entire genre. I don’t think it’s the greatest, but it might be my favorite.