Until Then is the only visual novel game I've truly enjoyed

I've tried visual novel games in the past, like A Space For The Unbound and Hatoful Boyfriend. And what's frustrating is that I just don't get on with them, despite knowing that they can convey brilliant stories through all sorts of interesting cuts and shots and whatnot. I'm sorry to report that certain stories won't grab me if they're not ticking along at just the right pace or if they don't pull me in straight away. I'm a needy soul, someone who demands immediacy and a special emotional sauce.

Until Then is, without a doubt, the only visual novel-y game I've truly enjoyed. In fact, I'd say I've more than enjoyed it - I think it's superb so far. The teens that drive this story are written with an authenticity I've not encountered before, and the 3D interwoven with the 2D adds some surprising - besides the literal - depth.

On the surface, the game's setup is traditional high schoolers-go-about-their-high-school-lives fare. You play as Mark, a lad with wavy long hair and an untucked shirt who's clearly smart but merely scrapes through his exams. Surrounding him are a cluster of friends, like basketball goof Ryan, model student Louise, and Cathy, an eccentric who's basically that annoying little sister who you can't help but love.

The twist is that there's an underlying supernatural mystery to compliment the high school shenanigans. Through background noise and adverts and everyday tidbits, it's clear that the world's amiss. Earthquakes are hitting hard, emergency services are rammed, and deadly illnesses seem to be on the rise. On top of all this, Mark begins to get flashbacks and hallucinations which suggest his current timeline is mixed up with another. While I absolutely want to find out what's going on, the game's strengths lie more in hanging with your pals and navigating challenges together.

Sure, some acquaintances fold into the background a bit, never to play a massive part (which captures the fleeting acquaintances of school well, to be honest). But for those key characters like Louise and Cathy, among a few others, you'll build relationships through interactions that feel authentic. Text conversations at night aren't just automated boxes, but conversations with tactility: you physically scroll through believable social media posts, watch people "typing" in the chat before they hit send, and get brief insights into Mark's true emotions when he rejigs his own replies before hitting send. And for the most part, the writers have made their presence largely undetectable as these teens sling words at each other - this is no team chat at E3's The Division showcase.

The story moves along at a leisurely pace, yet its scenarios consistently bring texture to each of the characters. Minigames, like holding a brush in a wobbling zone to paint an art project, is a vessel for interactivity - but also a precious opening in Mark's defenses. He paints with someone else, you see. And as they paint alongside Mark and bring some colour to his blunt illustration, they ask what his parents do. Two deliberately vague options shed light on his difficult home situation, before he's whisked into a dinner with this other person's family. Vignettes show him clinking drinks and tucking in and it's the happiest you've ever seen him.

There are other mundane moments, like when you meet Louise's quirky, happy-go-lucky friend and you learn they're grieving. And they grieve in a way that belies their cheery mask, displaying a surprising steadfastness and maturity in the face of terminal illness. Mark lies down on his side at night, fighting loneliness by connecting with strangers in chat rooms. In a stroke of luck (or fate?), he finds comfort in an anonymous person who vents and, in turn, touches on the hardships of fracture at a young age. There are plenty of lighthearted bits to provide balance, too, like fishing for snacks at food trucks or winging your way through school presentations or hanging outside convenience stores while it chucks it down with rain.

And it's all wrapped up in the Philippines, a setting that's delivered wonderfully through a mixture of 2D and 3D spaces. I have a sense of what it might be like to weave behind folks on the metro train, as they read newspapers in the background and flick through their phones in the foreground. I now know fishballs are a popular streetfood and look suitably delicious. And I've heard the clatter of hawkers as I've walked the streets or seen the beautiful decor of the headmaster's office that's surely a showcase of beautiful Filipino craftsmanship. Thoughtful shifts in perspectives provide extra detail throughout, like zoom-ins on stunned faces or cartoonish anime-style cuts that provoke laughs.

Until Then has, for the first time ever, given me a desire to spend time with a VN-style game. That's less to do with the mystery, and more to do with how it tells a grounded tale of kids growing up together. It communicates their growth through a richly layered sequence of everyday laughs and hardship, and it's one that's relatable and interactive in a way that transports you there. It really is a wonderful thing.