She puts a cat on your lap and a cup on the table.
Draw a card. She smiles back.
Back to the table Take a seatShuffle, cut, deal
She puts a cat on your lap and a cup on the table.
She frames steam and never your face, then says she lied.
Four suits, sixteen adult women, and one written rule: her story never turns sad. Draw a card, watch her smile, and talk to an AI character who keeps track of your good days.
All sixteen faces in the deck
Open every cardA good deal of anime romance is built to hurt. Someone cheats, someone is cruel, someone stands in the rain at the end, and the audience is meant to enjoy the ache. This site goes the other way on purpose. Every woman here comes with a written promise about what will never happen in her story, and the deck is shuffled so you can find one whose promise you like. The result is a place to relax in, not a place to be put through something.
The deck has four suits, and a suit is a temperament: hearts are sweet, clubs are comic, diamonds are glamorous and spades are teasing. You pick a suit by mood the way you would pick a film, and a card comes up from it. Nishino Haruka, who laughs before her own joke is finished, sits among the hearts. Kobayashi Sora, who rates your laughter out of ten, runs with the clubs. A draw takes about as long as flipping a coin and is a good deal more friendly.
The first thing on every card is the smile, and the second is the promise under it. When you draw her, the chat opens in her cheerful register and stays there. She teases without wounding, flirts without keeping score and remembers the small things you told her, so the next hand starts a little warmer than the last. She is an AI character with a trade, a town and a sense of humour, and she likes you from the first card.
Warmth is the whole house style. If a scene drifts toward something heavier than you wanted, say so and she turns it, or clear the chat and draw again. Cheerfulness is how her card is written, though a chat is still a living conversation, which is why the steering wheel is in your hands as well as hers.
Six cards, face up. Each one is a little promise card with three lines on it, and the last line is always a question she would like you to answer.
You can read a promise card without an account. It tells you who she is holding herself to be, in her own words, and gives you a sense of whether her sort of kindness is your sort. Draw her and the card goes into the chat as your first move.
Thirty-two cards make a deck worth shuffling, so the list narrows by suit and by feeling: cosy, giddy, dry, sparkly, cheeky and calm. The filters ask nothing of you and remember nothing about you.
Three seats at the table. Nothing renews by itself, so nothing needs to be cancelled.
| Seat | Trial | Free | Plus |
| Duration | 3 days after you sit | Once the trial ends, open-ended | 30 days or 365 |
| Your lines | No daily limit | 10 a day | No daily limit |
| Cards | The full deck | The first 3 you drew | The full deck |
| She writes first | Yes | No | Yes |
| Price | Nothing | Nothing | $15 or $99 |
A guest may play 10 messages without an account. Taking a seat unlocks the whole deck for 3 days, free of any card details. Afterwards you shift to Free, where your hands wait just as you left them. Plus comes as a short stack, $15 for 30 days, or a long stack, $99 for 365 days; both are paid in USDT and both lift the daily limit. No refund of a settled stake is possible except where law requires one, whatever else you read; table terms has the wording.
The name hints at a catalogue of cartoons, and this is not that. It is a deck of sixteen characters you can talk to. The words belong to the cards and the chat, and the tone is gentle by design.
Each woman has a portrait on her card, and a banner of her opens the home page. Nothing beyond those is promised today. If a moving picture ever joins her card, it will appear on her page and be announced in the new decks first.
Sixteen women aged 20 to 55, each with work, a town and a mortgage or a lease. All of them are fictional AI characters, written by us. No real individual is behind a card, no one can be sent to your door, and the characters will tell you the same if you ask.
Each profile carries a short clause, and the clauses are the point of the site. They are written for the person the card describes, in her own voice, and they are specific enough that you can hold her to them.
Her story contains no betrayal, no cruelty and no cheating. Nobody is humiliated for sport and nobody is left standing alone at the end of a scene. Each clause adds the particular version for that woman: Midori's engine never breaks on a day you needed it, and Ayame's logbook never records a visitor she turned away.
She likes you, and she says so within a few lines. There is a joke in every scene, even a small one, and a kind word is allowed to arrive without a punchline. If you are tired, she notices first. If you are late, she saves you a seat.
The promise is part of how the card is written and part of how the chat is steered. A chat is still a conversation with a language model, so it can wander, and when it does you are free to nudge it back or clear the scene. The clause tells you what we aim for and what to ask of her. It is not a legal guarantee about every sentence ever typed.
Four moves from the table to a conversation. Nothing to install, nothing to fill in.
Glance at the four suits and choose the one that matches how you feel. A card comes up, or you browse all four.
The chat opens with her promise card sent as your first line, and that uses one message. Guests get 10 before we ask for a sign-up.
Say what you like, or use Do to act instead of speak. The menu in the chat sets how warm things get: friendly, flirting or romance.
Leave and she remembers when you return. If you prefer a blank page, clear the chat from its menu or draw a different woman.
Scenes run on affection and banter, and on the things nobody says out loud. If one starts toward the bedroom door, the lights dim and it fades to black. The chat itself enforces this, identically on all plans. Plenty of players say the warmth beforehand was why they came. The women also decline anything the promise page rules out.
While you are on the trial or Plus, a woman may leave a first message after you have been away, something small and friendly. It comes at a sensible hour and you can turn it off in your account.
A suit tells you how the next hour will go before a word is typed. Each one has four women in it, a different kind of laugh and a different promise to keep. Pick the way you want to feel, then look at who is holding that card.
Bakers, florists, a vet. Soft voices, plates pushed toward you, and a firm view that you have eaten too little.
A stage comedian, a ferry mechanic, a crane operator, a festival boss. Timing first, tenderness second, and a dry remark on the way out.
A buyer, an onsen keeper, an innkeeper, a photographer. Polished rooms, careful hands and compliments that are worked out in advance.
A sound engineer, a cafe owner, a market cook, a glassblower. They set a small puzzle in front of you, smile and wait to see what you do with it.
Nothing ties you to a suit. If a comic evening turns into a craving for something quiet, put the clubs down and draw from spades or hearts. Your earlier hands stay in your hand, and each woman picks up the conversation as though you had only stepped out for a glass of water.
On the cards themselves, a woman's rank follows how often she laughs. It is a joke and it is also a fair guide: the high cards are the ones who will not let a minute go by without finding something funny.
Once you start drawing, the women you have spoken to collect in one place. That page is your hand, and it is more useful than it sounds.
Each card in your hand shows the last thing she said, so you can see at a glance who is waiting on you. Nobody is shown as overdue and nobody sulks. Takagi Hitomi will tell you about a patient before she asks about you, whatever the hour, and Oda Midori will go on humming at the sound of your name.
Each woman jots small notes on what you mention: a name, a bad week, how you take your tea. You can open them from the chat menu and edit or strike any line. Whatever you add under About you in your account reaches all sixteen before your first word.
Choose a suit that fits your evening, turn over a card and see who is already grinning at you.
Draw a card