It’s so hard to look at summer now and feel that it’s anywhere as good as it was when I was a child. From the age of five to eighteen, summer meant two to three months of open freedom, of choices, ideas, and possibilities that existed only in this window of opportunity. I remember camping, sleepovers, exploration, and endless games, movies, and stupidity. Sure, there was homework eventually, but summer held a double-edged sword of chance and missed moments. And when it was over, it was over, and you could never get it back. As an adult, summer is just a prolonged segment of work where the office feels just a bit worse because of what that time used to mean. So I say, with no hyperbole, that TOYBOX Inc. and Millennium Kitchen Co. Ltd. have done something magical with the creation of Natsu-Mon: 20th Century Summer Kid.

Satoru’s life is not like yours: he is the child of a ringmaster of a traveling circus, who tries to put down their stakes somewhere for as long as possible before moving along. This year, the year 1999, they’ve come to Yomogi Town, a sleepy, simple spot in the countryside of Japan. You’ve got mountains, the ocean, some villages scattered about, and multiple landmarks that beg to be explored. You’ve only got August – just thirty-one days – to make the most of things. You can help get the circus ready. You can make friends and solve mysteries. You can simply run and see everything there is, or spend your time looking at your favorite spot again and again. The summer is yours, and, for better or worse, this is your chance to make some amazing memories.

I cannot stand games where I have to make my own purpose. There’s something inherently irritating and exhausting about a title where the player has limitless choices for what to do, so it’s up to them to decide what takes priority and what constitutes their “quest.” Why the hell am I spending time playing a “game” that expects me to be the DM of my own campaign? Sure, some cool mechanics or concepts might take my attention for a little while, but those peter out quickly once I have no reason to keep going other than my own drive. I need parameters, outlines, and conditions. As much as the Atelier series might put pressure on players, having a set amount of time to complete your quests gives me motive. 

That more than anything, is some of the secret sauce of Natsu-Mon: 20th Century Summer Kid. Satoru has plenty of quests and directionality given to him. He is given a bug-catching net, a pick ax, a fishing pole, and endless storage to find everything he possibly can. A museum wants him to bring them rare artifacts and fauna he might encounter. A group of local kids have a detective agency and want to figure out the paranormal. The circus needs about thirty thousand yen before a certain date to make the show happen. An actual yokai is taking up residence across the map and wants you to play her games. All of these things and more are available for choices, and, in my opinion, none are more serious or important than the other. Well, maybe the money thing matters, but you’re also ten years old, so no one expects you to have answers.

Done in a cartoony third-person perspective, Satoru has a surprisingly large map to explore every day in any direction he wants. While the game will give you timed events that occur (morning exercises, meetings with other people), many of them exist penalty-free for ignoring them, though it may add up by the end of the month. Perhaps because he’s a circus child, Satoru can run, jump, and climb with the best of them, and his success in finishing quests lets him climb and run longer. Remember how you needed so much equipment and time to get Link to just run a bit longer in The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom? All Satoru needs is to find ten new bugs or catch five fish. This game wants the child to LIVE, not to waste his time. 

And Natsu-Mon: 20th Century Summer Kid does so with wild aplomb and excitement. As long as you’re within the boundaries of the map, you can do it. You can climb up the sides of anything: mountains, trees, houses, smokestacks, or parking garages. You can swim the entire day and never get tired, sick, or cold. You eat breakfast and dinner, amazing homemade meals, so you don’t worry about packing apples or rice balls to keep up your strength. If you deplete your energy meter, simply slow down (not even stop, just slow down) and it’ll recharge in a few moments. I jumped off the top of a mountain and fell, easily, two hundred meters, and I landed on solid ground, which caused Satoru to make an exaggerated expression of pain and shock, and then just kept running.

Naturally, you’ll need to make concessions as to what you’ll be doing because, and I say this regretfully, there isn’t enough time for everything. There are two hundred types of bugs to catch, so trying to fill up that notebook becomes a priority. Every morning you’ll hear about something new happening that might be worth your time, so figuring out who’s been letting the pigs out or how to improve the weird inn that’s also a boat adds up to a full day. Even the radio exercises every morning come at the cost of making sure to get plenty of rest the night before so you can be up early, but who knows how many exciting things are happening when everyone else should be sleeping?

Natsu-Mon: 20th Century Summer Kid never lets you forget that you’re a child, and I mean that in the very best way. In spite of all the things that COULD happen in a game like this, they never do. Cars and trains will brake and avoid you at all costs. You can’t attack others, but you can ping some people with acorns for mild slapstick amusement. When you reach places that are inherently dangerous, like construction sites, you are prohibited from being able to interact in any capacity. And, when the day is nearing an end, the friendly circus performer who your parents know and trust will find you wherever you may be and help bring you home in time for dinner. You can’t die, you can’t get hurt, and you can’t turn into a violent lunatic. You’re just a kid, and that’s a surprisingly nice position to be in.

This title will also appeal more strongly to those who’ve ever been in Japan during the summertime. Besides the inherent bias by the developers, the game itself is a buffet of soundscape moments that best simulate the Japanese summer. Much like Until Then was a sonic overload of Filipino street noises, Natsu-Mon accompanies the lapping of the water and the ambiance of the passing trains with plenty of cicada songs and crow caws. Even better, nearly every interaction is fully voiced, so you can just relax and listen to the banter between a visiting child and a wonderfully supportive town of good-natured people. Some of the jokes are distinctly less funny in translation, but the humor is still there and can pull a chuckle from even the most stoic critic.

What really seals the deal for me is how each day is an encapsulation of the energy of Natsu-Mon: 20th Century Summer Kid.  Though you may run around and see and do a thousand things, it’s easy to forget exactly how much you accomplished in a single play timeframe. But, before Satoru goes to bed, he writes in his summer journal, helpfully provided by a local schoolteacher. Suddenly he’ll draw any number of great events, from catching a fish to stumbling on some ruins of a place long passed, and you’ll recall that, oh yeah, those did happen, and it was just today. The act of journaling puts you right there with him, and you can marvel at all that was accomplished between waking and sleep. It’s incredibly satisfying and also forces me to appreciate that, from a child’s perspective, I wasn’t wasting time, I was doing some marvelous activities.

Choosing to make Natsu-Mon: 20th Century Summer Kid set at the turn of the century speaks volumes about the developers’ own childhoods, and I truly appreciate what Spike Chunsoft has done by publishing this game. With the only real difficulty being the passage of time, players can step away from so many annoyances and responsibilities and, instead, slip into the well-worn sneakers of a kid who just wanted summer to last forever. If you can hold back your own waves of bittersweet nostalgia, you’ll find this twee adventure to be an absolute delight that is perfect to play against the backdrop of an actual summer. Play, enjoy, remember, and don’t forget: these moments are happening now, so cherish them. For once they’re gone, they’re gone.

 

Graphics: 8.0 Done up in a cartoony fashion that’s both classic and contemporary, the environment of Yomogi Town comes through as if through the eyes of a child, and that visual sensation is perfect for presenting this sort of encapsulated experience.	Gameplay: 9.0 Once you figure out how to run and jump, the world is your oyster. Quests are all equally important and the pressure to decide what to do is mitigated by the enjoyment you get from these explorations. A bit more versatility in some activities would be nice but not necessary.
Sound: 9.5 The throwback style of the opening song puts you in the right headspace from the drop, and the fully voiced cast, the ambient soundscape, and the playful, almost warming music make for an aural time capsule to help you get in the right headspace.	Fun Factor: 9.0 It’s the summer that never was in a town I’ve never been for a childhood that was never my own. Yet, in spite of all these nevers, it caught my attention and helped the old feel young again by capturing the beautiful notion of an exciting, unpredictable summer.
Final Verdict: 9.0

Natsu-Mon: 20th Century Summer Kid is available now on Nintendo Switch and PC.

Reviewed on Nintendo Switch.

A copy of Natsu-Mon: 20th Century Summer Kid was provided by the publisher.