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Like, she calls us Beloved, Darling, Betrothed, Opens up a lot to us and the game admits her Fake Engagement has turned into real feelings after her Personal Quest where we help her find the spices for her dish. She’s very clearly open and pining for a relationship that she doesn’t know can’t be.
Our Hunter, from the Present, knows the truth. I imagine that even if they did fall for Josee, they don’t encourage it by language or actions as a way to distant themselves (and fail) from her because of the inevitable hurt. They don’t flirt back, they don’t call her pet names, they don’t get close when it comes to themselves. To them it’s an empty promise of a happier life.
One Miraculous Bonds Ending later? Oh yeah, Hunter is gonna sweep Josèe off her feet. They are gonna wake up, realize that they finally reached the good ending, and immediately turn Josèe’s Base into a Wedding Venue. She’ll have to be the one to tell the Hunter to slow down which is ironic.
I imagine during the Honeymoon (or heck, even before the Wedding) The Hunter will explain their seemingly out of the blue devotion on their relationship and marriage.
(Also it doesn’t matter the gender, Josèe will probably not let the Hunter see the sun for like, a week during the Honeymoon-)
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i am of the sincere belief that if ur on ur computer a lot you should visually customize it to high hell and back not just for funsies but also because it has literally made me less depressed before. its kind of like how rearranging your bedroom is good for your brain, yknow. i do stuff like this every few months
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Okay. Now that it's been a week or so since I played it and I've processed a bit more (because oh man did it ruin my day when I first played through it), I feel more ready to write about this scene.
(content warnings: mental health, suicide, references of drug use)
WuWa intertwines several stories of exploitation of power and talents--some overtly, others subtly--and I'm picking this one because it's real to me. I lived through it. I survived it.
Students falling off the tightrope amidst pressure from an elite institution that exist specifically to channel and exploit their talents doesn't just occur in the fictional setting of a futuristic technical college in a game about celestial worlds. It's how elite colleges and universities here in the US function.
"Gifted" kids who get good grades, or at least who have notable skills in a particular subject, are told how bright their futures are because of their ~talent~. Prestigious colleges lure in adolescents (and their parents and guardians who will likely be paying tuition) with promises that they are the avenue to the adolescents' future.
Just being accepted into one of these institutions isn't enough. You're told you have to keep succeeding at this level. It's not statistically possible for everyone to be "the best." But, your guardians tell you, you're special.
Academic life is loaded as full as possible with rigorous courses. My first year of college, I took three main classes, each 8am to 5pm one day a week with minimum 10 hours of homework. Students juggle what's effectively a 60+ hour work week while shouldering life obligations, finances, and the expectations of their family, their peers, and the relentless messaging institution they're immersed in.
All of this, centered on a narrow tightrope. Students do what they must to cope, to stay on balance. And everything around you tells you that you must walk it.
Leaving isn't an option. In my case, I recognized the impact on my mental health and told my parents, who were paying my tuition, that I was planning to transfer out. Their reply was that if I stopped, they would discontinue all financial support--I could either pay the remaining ~$60k tuition at another institution myself, or leave entirely and pick up the pieces by myself with no degree and $20k in debt.
So, the only way out is through. Right...?
Every single year I attended college, an email would go out to all the students and staff celebrating the life of a student who had died--not explicitly stated, but also not difficult to infer--either by a drug overdose or by suicide.
My teachers and classmates would cry, express their sorrow, and tell students to do their best. It would harrow the community for a week or so.
And then, nothing would change.
It would happen again the next year. (Maybe even the next semester. Some years, this happened more than once.) The same acknowledgment, and then the same sweeping under the rug. Over and over, nothing would change.
In this scene in Wuwa, the framing of the rabbits under a spotlight, in a pedestal, and then surrounded in mourning, is striking. It's impactful enough as a story--made even worse by the fact that I know it's real.
Someone who didn't know much of anything about my college asked upon hearing the RISD name: "Isn't that the one where a student dies every year?"
Something needs to change.
I don't know how, but... it does.
Here's some good reading for the real-life stories of students who go through this same struggle (minus the TDs and cool weapons and pocket dimensions):
A multimedia exposé of the ongoing mental health crisis and suicide in the Ivy League schools by Christine Forbes.
And in case anyone's curious? I've spent the last 6 years of my life in a position that doesn't even require a college degree, and it pays better than the vast majority of jobs to which my degree claimed it would lead me.
What these institutions tell you about your future is propaganda. For most people, it's a lie.
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