The game is Yume Nikki, which was created by Kikiyama. One can play it on their PC. The target audience are young adults who enjoy storytelling games. In the game, through the act of walking, the game constructs an emotional and psychological landscape that tells a story without words or combat. In the absence of dialogue or explicit goals, the act of moving itself becomes the narrative engine. Each step deepens the mystery, allowing players to piece together the story through atmosphere, tone, and personal interpretation. This how walking is able to tell the story. Yume Nikki stands out as a walking game because of its sole goal is exploration. Compared to more goal-oriented or collaborative walking sims like Fuzzy Witch Hunt,where players are fuzzy animals with magical powers navigating moral decisions in a communal world, Yume Nikki is isolating. Its narrative emerges not from conversation or choice but from immersion. Where Fuzzy Witch Hunt uses ethical decision-making as a mechanic, Yume Nikki uses uncertainty and symbolism to evoke introspection.
From an ethical standpoint, Yume Nikki does not have any clear violence, which I appreciate. On the other hand, it uses mental violence to make the game interactive. It suggests trauma, isolation, and mental illness without stating anything outright. Playing Yume Nikki challenged my assumptions about what games need to be engaging or profound. It forced me to slow down, to be comfortable with silence and uncertainty, and to rethink how games handle topics like depression or escapism. Unlike violent games where death is frequent and fleeting, here, suffering lingers.
From the MDA framework, Yume Nikki falls under the theme of Aesthetics. This is used to evoke themes of alienation, loss, and surreal wonder. The lack of spoken dialogue, combat, or progression systems helps the player focus on feeling rather than doing. This is unlike Fuzzy Witch Hunt, which frames violence as a moral problem through group dynamics and social negotiation. When discussing narrative architecture, Yume Nikki employs evocative spaces. The game’s world is constructed not to guide players linearly, but to immerse them in a fragmented environment that they must emotionally interpret.
As shown in the picture, I do not believe that children should be playing games where violence is the main objective. I am worried that repeated exposure to violent game mechanics, where progress is often tied to killing, shooting, or defeating others, can contribute to desensitization toward death and harm. This isn’t to say that all games with combat are inherently harmful, but when violence is the primary mode of interaction, it risks teaching players, especially younger ones, that conflict is best resolved through aggression. This is why games like Yume Nikki matter. They prove that emotional depth, tension, and even fear can be achieved without a single act of physical violence. The game challenges players not by asking them to destroy enemies, but by asking them to interpret silence, ambiguity, and surreal imagery. That kind of engagement fosters reflection rather than reaction, and models a different kind of relationship with digital worlds.
