The game I decided to play is One Night, Hot Springs. One Night, Hot Springs is a visual novel game developed by npckc. The game is available on computers and mobile devices. I chose to play the game on my computer, which helped with making the gameplay feel intuitive. One Night, Hot Springs is designed for players who enjoy story-rich, narrative-driven experiences that explore themes of identity. It’s recommended for ages 13+ due to its focus on mature topics such as gender identity and cultural challenges, which encourage players to reflect on social issues and personal values.
I’ve never played a game that explored gender identity before, so this game was super unique and interesting to me. What I noticed and loved right away was the art style. The cartoonish art style was inviting and warm, and it helped make the heavier themes, like navigating gender identity, feel a bit easier to process. I also really liked that it was a narrative-driven game where you could make choices and see different consequences play out based on what you decided. While the game did give me a chance to be in the shoes of a transgender person, as I played the game, I did start to notice that it was generalizing trans women’s experiences into a narrow, one-dimensional situation.
One Night Hot Springs invites players to experience empathy for a trans woman’s perspective, but it ultimately risks generalizing the trans experience into a simplified narrative, where the complexities of trans womanhood are diluted into a series of simplified choices and personal dilemmas.
By framing the trans experience as a “choose-your-own-adventure” story, One Night Hot Springs risks reducing the complexity of gender identity to a set of predetermined and limited experiences. In the game, players take on the role of Haru, a trans woman navigating a night at a traditional Japanese bathhouse. The core mechanic revolves around dialogue choices that lead to different outcomes, but these choices often boil down to simplistic “yes” or “no” options. For example, one of the choices is whether she wants to talk to her friend more about her struggles or go to sleep (picture 1). While these choices on the surface mimic decisions trans people might face in real life, they quickly start to feel redundant. This is because players usually can tell which option will push the story forward, so it’s less about exploring Haru’s internal world and more about picking the “right” answer to unlock more plot and drama. This design choice reduces a deeply personal and socially complex experience into a gamified series of decisions that imply there are “correct” or “wrong” ways to exist as a trans person. From a formal design perspective, the game’s rules and procedures (formal elements) are narrowly defined: player actions are limited to pre-scripted dialogue options, and the objectives are mostly to reach a “good” ending by making “safe” or “brave” choices. This in turn makes the dynamics of player interaction a bit underwhelming, where the predictability of the game makes it feel redundant. As a result, the game’s aesthetic of discovery and learning about Haru’s world becomes shallow because the systems don’t allow for emergent complexity or player expression beyond the scripted choices. A simple fix to this could simply be adding more choices that could explore more paths! Ultimately, by presenting Haru’s story as linear, the game risks reducing the trans experience to a series of objective moments rather than acknowledging it as a dynamic, messy, and often non-linear journey.
Further, One Night Hot Springs glamorizes the challenges faced by trans women, framing difficult decisions as safe and rewarding without showing their real-world risks. For example, when Haru has the option to choose whether or not to disclose her identity to one of the staff members (picture down below), being open about her trans identity often responds with positive outcomes, like a free upgrade to a private bath or supportive dialogue. I do applaud the game for encouraging trans women to feel empowered to open up about their identity. The message that being open about who you are doesn’t always lead to bad outcomes, and that you shouldn’t have to hide your identity, is an important message and value to send. Moreover, it does depict real-life challenges that trans women face like having to circle their gender as “male” rather than “female.” (Pictured below) But at the same time, there’s a risk in telling this story without acknowledging the real dangers that exist in cultures that haven’t fully accepted trans identity, especially in Japan, where the game is set. By showing Haru being met with support or even rewards, like a private bath, the game creates a version of reality where speaking up is always safe and encouraged, which can feel misleading. It glosses over the fear, the risk of discrimination, and the potential for rejection that many trans women face when navigating public spaces like baths in real life. Thus, it fails to follow the emergent narrative that it tries to take on because it doesn’t leave a space where the player’s actions can lead to unexpected consequences or reflect the uncertainty of life. While the game’s intention is positive, it ultimately presents an idealized story that might not reflect the actual struggles many trans people still encounter today.
Utilizing feminist perspectives could help One Night, Hot Springs create a more layered and authentic portrayal of Haru’s experience. The game could better encourage player agency, offering paths that don’t just lead to feel-good outcomes, but also highlight the emotional weight and uncertainty of living authentically in a society that doesn’t always make space for trans voices. By broadening the focus beyond individual “choices” and highlighting systemic challenges, the game could create a more honest, nuanced space for players to reflect on the realities of trans life, one that acknowledges risk and resilience together, rather than oversimplifying consequences of decisions that don’t acknowledge the systematic barriers trans women face. Ultimately, feminist perspectives could help the game resist simplification and better challenge how trans women navigate complex systems of gender, power, and social expectations.
