Critical play – play like a feminist

One Night, Hot Springs is a short and sensitive visual novel that lets players step into the shoes of Haru, a young transgender woman navigating a deceptively simple social invitation: a night at the hot springs with friends. What might sound like a relaxing getaway quickly becomes a complex emotional journey shaped by identity, anxiety, and social dynamics. As a feminist player, engaging with this game means looking beyond surface-level choices and considering how gender, safety, and agency are all subtly woven into Haru’s story, and how feminist perspectives might critique or enhance it.

haru gets news that she is invited to the baths

Right from the start, the game makes clear that Haru’s experience isn’t universal. While Manami, the friend who invites her, is warm and well-meaning, the context in which Haru operates adds layers of tension to every interaction. Haru doesn’t just worry about what swimsuit to pack; she worries about whether the hotel will allow her to use the women’s bath. These small moments underscore a truth that feminist and queer theories often highlight: that public spaces aren’t designed with marginalized bodies in mind.

Playing this game as a feminist means actively tuning into those design choices, the ones that make you feel Haru’s discomfort even in mundane moments. It’s the pause before a text reply, the second-guessing when choosing whether to speak up, or the emotional labor of managing other people’s comfort. Feminist theory talks a lot about visibility and erasure, and One Night, Hot Springs places the player right at the intersection of those forces. Haru’s presence becomes a question: Is she welcome here? Will she be seen for who she is, or reduced to how others perceive her?

One of the more complicated characters is Erika, a friend of Manami’s who tags along. Erika’s role in the game is intriguing. At times, she’s sarcastic and indifferent, other times surprisingly supportive. She makes jokes that border on insensitive, yet she also doesn’t treat Haru with kid gloves. As a player, I couldn’t always read whether Erika was playing devil’s advocate, being genuine, or just socially awkward. This ambiguity makes her feel real, but it also makes it harder to pin down the game’s overall stance. Is Erika a flawed ally? A comic relief character? A mirror to the player’s own uncertainty?

one of the player decisions that put you in haru’s shoes

While the game doesn’t claim to offer a full intentional take on feminism, it does introduce clear themes that echo feminist and queer theory. Haru’s internal monologue reflects the tension between self-advocacy and social politeness, which aligns with intersectional feminism’s emphasis on lived experience and structural inequality. However, the game stops short of more explicitly analyzing these systems. For example, there’s little discussion of how Japanese gender laws or healthcare systems restrict Haru’s ability to live freely. A stronger feminist integration might have included more dialogue about institutional barriers, not just emotional ones.

That said, One Night, Hot Springs excels in being quietly radical. It doesn’t lecture or over-explain. Instead, it trusts players to sit with discomfort and recognize the weight behind “small” decisions. And in doing so, it avoids the trap of turning Haru’s identity into a teachable moment for a cis player like me. The game lets her be soft, uncertain, and tired. Things women, especially trans women, are often not allowed to be in the media.

Still, it would be fair to critique the game’s brevity. At around 30 minutes of playtime, it only scratches the surface of the conversations it opens. There are multiple endings, but they don’t all feel equally meaningful; some routes close off rather abruptly. A deeper exploration of Manami’s or Erika’s growth could have offered more tension and payoff. More branching dialogue that interrogates Erika’s behavior could have been a great opportunity to reflect feminist perspectives back at the player.

Ultimately, One Night, Hot Springs is a gentle, thoughtful game that uses the visual novel format effectively to highlight the quiet challenges of living as a marginalized woman. Playing it as a feminist means not just sympathizing with Haru, but recognizing how everyday systems of gender and space are designed to exclude, and how even a hot spring can become a battleground for identity and dignity.

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