Once again I'm thrown into a fictional summer that's just long enough that I miss it when it ends, but not so long that I ever wished it ended sooner.

Boku no Natsuyasumi's main success was being a game that could make you cry without a single tragedy: the heartrending part of that game was saying goodbye. Throughout the entire game one's own nostalgic recollections of childhood come to overlap with the game itself, and by the end of it events that happened maybe two hours ago, feel like part of some precious memory. It's a trick that really only works once, so I was a bit worried about the sequels lacking impact.

As it turns out, there was no need to worry; being able to observe how my own memories started to work against me as the story went on made up for whatever was lost, although I don't think I lost anything. Sure, the first game's ending left more of an impression on me, but I think Two as a whole will probably stick with me longer. For me, being completely aware of what the story was trying to do, removed any doubt on whether it earned its emotional moments or not, and let me appreciate the subtler moments of the game more.

Now to get to Three in 2025...




















Simon not smoking weed is a plot hole.

Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 is a life affirming work of art. I went into this one well aware of its structure, that it took place across the month of August, and during that time you could relax and enjoy the small town you were placed into in whatever way you wanted. Due to this structure and my on-going journey of practicing mindfulness with respect to video games, I only allowed myself to play a maximum of 3 in game days per 1 actual day, and with the extra stipulation that I had to concentrate solely on the game. This may sound a bit silly, though as someone who pretty much always watches YouTube on a second monitor, or listens to podcasts while playing video games, this represented a very intentional exercise for me in order to appreciate what I was engaging with, and maybe fix my fucked up attention span in some way. From everything I knew, this was a game particularly well suited to this task as well, because I really wanted to soak up every little drop of the atmosphere and dialog that I could.

In the end I think this approach to playing Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 was extremely successful for me. I hung out on each screen, taking it all in. I turned over the character interactions, both slight and large, in my head during the forced gap between play sessions, allowing myself to develop a real sense of knowing these people on an intimate level. What would Uncle Genta be doing tomorrow? Would he still be struggling with the loss of his old profession, or did he have a revelation that lead him down a different path? Due to the nature of my play sessions and the nature of the ongoing lives of the cast, I sometimes wouldn't see someone in game for several real life days at a time, causing myself to legitimately miss them and wonder what they're getting up to. These small somber moments of longing to see them again couldn't have prepared me for the great sadness and emptiness brought about by the sudden ending, which drilled home just how much I cared each and every one of them, and the fact that I'd likely never see them again.

That is to say, at least not without spinning up another save file, which just feels wrong to me. No one should ever get to know every facet of every person in their lives, there's a certain beauty in knowing that you can't possibly know everyone's experience holistically. People fade in and out of our lives, only appearing briefly to give an update on themselves from their own perception. This game represents a series of those brief encounters, wrapped up in an experience that is brief in and of itself, even when I intentionally stretch it out over a longer period of time, as though trying to get the most out of my own similarly brief windows in time. There is no going back to summer vacation, there is no going back to 1975, there is no going back to Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 for me, and I've made my peace with that.

Podría forzarme a continuarlo pero es que sinceramente me gustaría menos aún. He preferido abandonarlo al ver que cada día se sentía más como una copia sin alma de la experiencia que fue para mi el primer Boku no Natsuyasumi.
Aún así no puedo darle nota negativa (-2.5) ya que si este es el primer juego de la saga que experimentas, puede que tú encuentres lo que yo sentí con el anterior en este y lo que yo siento con este, lo sientas con otro Bokunatsu.

Esto no quita que siga preguntándome si mi experiencia con ambos juegos se debe a que uno lo haya jugado en Japones y lo tuviese que comprender por mi cuenta como pudiese, cosa que me hacía apreciar cada migaja de texto que consiguiera comprender. Aunque no fuese en el sentido literario de las palabras, de alguna forma me podía conectar con esas experiencias y sentimientos que emanaban los personajes del juego, como por ejemplo a través del tono con el que hablan un día u otro.

Mientras que con la secuela...
Ya tenía todos los diálogos traducidos en una bandeja de plata lista para servir gracias a la fan traducción. Pero mi experiencia no solo fue al nivel de la barrera de lenguaje, sino incluso en las actividades y la propia historia visual.

En Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 se añade un nuevo sitio donde explorar, el mar. Y aunque suene como algo atractivo, no se siente más que un espacio en el que escapar de lo rutinario que ya he vivido antes en tierra de forma nueva, algo que no llega a ser suficiente para presentarse como un juego nuevo, sino como una copia con cara nueva. Esto me ha llevado a darme cuenta de forma más clara de algo.

Solo se aprende y se aprecia una vez, la primera vez.

El volver a atrapar mariposas no se ha sentido igual, pese a que sea exactamente igual que antes.
El volver a regar y que algo florezca no se ha sentido igual, aún siendo igual que antes.
El pensar como hacer que cada día sea único ya no se siente igual, no es igual que antes, no es antes.

Boku no Natsuyasumi lo jugué y complete hace casi un año, exactamente en mis vacaciones de verano. Me divertí mucho ese verano. Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 lo jugué también en mis vacaciones de verano y ciertamente, no me he divertido como antes.

Tal vez simplemente, la diferencia no estaba en el idioma, sino en el volver a querer sentirme igual a la primera vez, igual que antes. Aún cuando ya no se puede volver a replicar por más que se quiera.

Really sweet melancholic game. Strong character writing. Fun to fall into a daily routine and learn about everyone. Occasionally different events pop up to break things up. Love gymnopedies 1.

Amazing work done by the translator/romhacker hilltop and team. This is immensely seamless.

It's important to note that hilltop included in the readme that this is "dedicated to the gallant people of Palestine". Especially in a conflict that has seen an unreasonably and ghastly high number of children's death, the game takes on a tragic twinge. I mean, reminders of summer vacation is probably low key tragic for a lot because it's this time to be free. For a lot, we probably didn't even appreciate it until it's long gone and summers are spent myopically working and trying not to sweat. Boku couldn't have really fully appreciated it either, as it's an appreciation we often don't realize until later. And a reminder of how lucky it was to have a summer doing nothing, having the comfort to play a leisurely game recreating this experience, the time to idle away in someone else's beautiful childhood.

Though I never spent a summer there, I was viscerally reminded of the town my mother grew up in while playing Boku No Natsuyasumi 2. Like Tonomi, it was an oceanside town with an elderly population, forested hills with trails and wildlife, bridges, beaches, an old man who was involved in World War 2, and a nearby highway that put the ferry out of business. Most eerily, my mother's parents had styled their house for their nine children as a sort of bed and breakfast with themed rooms for the "guests", with it built into a hill such that the ground floor towards the back opened up to elevated balconies facing the water. I imagine it's easy for anyone to get buried in their own memories playing a Boku No Natsuyasumi game, though for me it felt auspicious that the game that was translated to English first was the one most resembling a place from my own life.

When I was five years old, my mother's father passed away. I have a handful of fuzzy memories of him that all feel pale compared to the day of his funeral. My family and I stood outside a church on a hill, the sun hotter and brighter than I had ever known it to get at that age. All my older cousins were there, between four and twenty years older than me; my mother was the youngest of nine, and I was her youngest child. My relationship with that side of the family has always been somewhat distant by extension, shaped by childhood experiences of looking up at tall goofy people who mentioned they last saw me when I was only this big and had inside jokes I was on the outside of. Granddad looked waxy and unnatural in the coffin.

For the rest of my adolescence, my mother and her siblings would spend weekends with her mother in that town. My siblings and I were brought along, often requiring my brother and I to take claritin all weekend to counteract the old family cat's shedding. We'd play around the house and the backyard, pick up rocks and shells along the beach, drop sticks in the estuary and see which one passed under the bridge first. My oldest sister got lost in the woods once. Grandma's sight and hearing weakened gradually, and often only left the house for church. She'd join any card games though.

In "The Promise: The Making of Darkness on the Edge of Town" we see archival footage of the Holmdel, New Jersey house where Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band rehearsed in the mid 70s, as well as the Haddonfield home of Frank Stefanko where the album cover photoshoot was taken. I always subconsciously associated the floral wallpaper of the album cover with my mother's hometown and the surrounding area, and the documentary revealed they were similarly quiet and isolated houses. It can be simultaneously invigorating and unsettling to see a place in art that you so strongly connect to a place from your life, only to find the reality that inspired the art was truly similar and not imagined. Boku 2 struck a similar nerve.

Yet a place and its wallpaper only matters so much. Boku 2 is not a story about the grief experienced by a child, rather a child's perception of grief in others. It is not about disconnect from relatives but becoming closer to them. It is not about a place you visit for a weekend and see in different seasons, it is about a full month of experiences strung together artfully through a specific month of a specific year in history. Yasuko is about as old as my mother was in 1975, though I didn't know my mother then. In turn, Tonomi is what you make of it: the moments you find and the moments you miss, alike in their passing you by. Already passed and already past.

I played through the game one in-game day per one in-reality day. Looking back from the end of my November 2023/August 1975, I'm glad I did. Encouraged to play honestly and see how I got by on my own instincts, I found myself roleplaying a child who wakes up excited to do something and forgetting what they had wanted to do tomorrow yesterday. I got a lot of the collectibles but not all of any category. A few plot threads lay untied at the end (like what was up with the cat shack), while others seemingly could have gone a bit differently, and more felt fully explored but left deliberately ambiguous in their details. Though it was not particularly sentimental nor tragic, the ending eked out a few tears.

Like the song goes, "It's easy to get buried in the past / When you try to make a good thing last." And like the youtube comment goes, we need more games like this.

To be honest, I didn't exactly come in with my arms wide open. The fears of a formally continuist sequel of something that was very expressive because its own peculiar use of its forms increased shortly after starting. A setting to choose how long you want the day to be, collectibles around the map, a character that tells you where to see the events of each day, afraid of giving you back freedom in a larger world, overall details that seem treated with less care and a feeling of experiencing the same but worse. It's a shame that every time the game tries to awkwardly recall the intentions of its predecessor, it pales considerably (one clear instance: the previously essential narrator is now dispensable in the few arbitrary moments it appears).

Luckily, it takes just a few days to see that the direction taken is right. The facts that the protagonist's father never appears, that the plot of the future sibling remains in the background, or that the reminiscing aspect of the tale is anecdotic are no coincidence. The form, weighed down by losing part of its meaning, becomes a perfect vehicle to explore a more passive exploration of the surrounding drama.

Here Boku does not so much embody a reflexive portrait of childhood and growth, as he is more a supporting device for the rest of the cast. Accordingly, the most dramatically charged plots revolve less around Boku's family and more around the neighbors and visitors. These take advantage of the kid's innocent and outsider approach to deal with a common yet always specific issue: yearn. Yearn because of the distance between mother and daughter, between father and son, between lovers, between Earth and outer space, between past and present and future, between the world of humans and the one that is not ours, between life and what lies beyond. And the fears that all of these yearnings may never be answered.

That most of the conflicts end up in an open ended bittersweet quiet note resonates with the setting of the small coastal village. A place to get away from and to be taken away from the world. The ever-present sound of the waves, which inevitably move these desires in the tide just as the moon changes phase in the last shot of each day.

It’s not that Boku's appearance solves all these yearnings, but his mere interest in observing the world around him and serving as a confessional escape mechanism at least alleviates the pain. The game takes a passive stance where listening to one another is the greatest act of kindness, where what little evil appears to exist in the world has nothing but a noble and melancholic origin. Who knows what the future may hold, what to do but to hope for the best and reach for our hands within the tide.

Hype is one hell of a thing. Exhibit A is this game, which has been elevated to that almost unreachable realm of masterpieces after getting an English fan translation. And I don't think it quite deserves it. 

Don't get me wrong, I think Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 is a very cute little game, but that's pretty much all it is. You can fish, catch bugs, swim, and explore parts of this island, talking with its inhabitants and getting to know them better until they completely open up to you. The stories are all super well written, and they are all common enough in real life that I'm sure players will at least connect with one of them. But that being said, neither the stories nor the character developments are truly remarkable or groundbreaking.

Where this game excels is in its vibes; its presentation perfectly conveys what being a kid in Japan circa 1970 would have been like, and it reflects Japanese culture quite well, featuring tons of their unique traditions. It's a time capsule on video game format, and it does a fantastic job being that. 

That being said, looking back, I don't think the 17 or so hours I put into the game were really worth it; there's just so many games to play and so little time that, as cute as Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 was, It just didn't quite rock my world. It also didn't help the fact that the pace is quite slow and there are days in which there's nothing particularly interesting to do.

I'd say, try it for yourself. It's a very unique experience, and I'm sure some people would fall in love with its small yet cozy world. Maybe you'd like it more than I did; just don't get your expectations as high as I did.

Eu não saberia expressar em palavras exatamente o motivo, mas desde criança eu tive um fascínio grande na "não objetividade" quando se tratava de jogos. E mesmo hoje, quando me deparo com títulos renomados que flertam comigo de alguma maneira, sempre parecem carecer dessa real conexão que eu alcançava em jogos antigamente. Advinda aliás, de propostas que fugiam da própria intencionalidade da obra. Tais como GTA, Legos ou até mesmo Minecraft. Nesses títulos, eu simplesmente me sentia indescritivelmente entretido simplesmente por não fazer nada, e sinceramente, caso me perguntem sobre a história desses jogos de mim não irão adquirir nenhuma resposta satisfatória nesse quesito, pois o sentimento de imersão na contemplação é a única coisa que está estampado em minhas memórias. Não é de se impressionar, que as minhas principais discussões com a minha melhor amiga em jogos é por eu não respeitar a "objetividade" do jogo maioria das vezes, sempre querendo fugir dela. E quando eu contestava, eu justificava, e dizia que esse seria o motivo em questão que me afastava da constância de contato com o mundo dos games. Mesmo nessa ótica, eu sabia que ela não estava errada, mas o que eu não sabia é que faltava de fato ter contato com algum jogo que se conectasse comigo novamente.

Foi uma busca intensa por algo que eu de fato nem sabia que poderia existir. E assim, sempre tentando reanimar o meu fôlego nos games, ainda mirava em jogos que seriam de fato menos "esforço". Pois eu não queria objetividade, eu não queria nem mesmo linearidade, eu queria apenas uma fuga gratificante, uma contemplação, uma ação espontânea. E nisso, eu me afastava mais ainda desse cenário, cogitando até mesmo aderir à conclusão de que eu não servia para os jogos.

Tomado pela curiosidade despertada pela estética e pela esperança de que "Agora seria a hora", joguei esse jogo a qual escrevo. E como todas as obras, não vi nada sobre, como nunca vejo, apenas mergulhei. Mas como uma doce surpresa, esse jogo era tudo que eu mais queria... na verdade, esse jogo é até mais do que eu poderia desejar! Pois tudo que eu precisava estava dentro de 31 dias em uma cidade isolada à beira do mar. E talvez nesse ponto, caso você não tenha jogado esse título, você deve estar se perguntando aonde está a grandiosidade disso. E talvez minha resposta não seja satisfatória para todos, mas para mim, representa uma volta à minha infância. Sim, aqui a objetividade da qual denúnciei ter em outros jogos não está presente, pois ela cede lugar a curiosidade de explorar. O mapa, mesmo que singelo, está repleto de detalhes que enriquecem a experiência. As diversas atividades te deixam tão entretido à ponto de você ansiar que o dia não acabe, e isso faz você ferozmente querer ir atrás de poder fazer todas as side quests que te aguardarão no dia seguinte, pois aqui, o tempo é precioso. E não precioso de uma forma que te prenda, aliás, se você quiser, você literalmente pode zerar o game sem mover 1 músculo sequer. No caso, aqui digo que o tempo é valioso pois cada segundo é um deleite, cada conversa simples carrega um denso conteúdo e até um cenário se torna discretamente sublime.

Não é muito distante do que eu sentia quando passei meus ordinários dias na casa do meu Tio no "interior". Lá, minha única companhia era minha bicicleta, um condomínio inteiro para explorar e a minha energia que ali parecia inesgotável. Foi ali que cultivei as mais singelas memórias de uma parte da minha infância e me envolvi nas aventuras que sempre me acompanharão como histórias que irei repetir pro resto da vida. E esse foi um dos motivos que fez esse jogo me empurrar direto pra minha infância, e ainda melhor, de mãos dadas com a outra face da minha infância que vivi com os games que mais me marcaram.

Essa experiência é do mais alto cume catártico que eu já experienciei. A beleza desses momentos é mais intensa quando você se deixa levar pelas coisas a sua volta, como fazer que tudo se torne parte de si, se entregar à vida em uma conexão que te torna inseparável até mesmo das pessoas que com você interagem, com os conhecimentos, com as vivências e os aprendizados que te tornam mais maduro. Nesse jogo reside uma particularidade minha que chega a me assustar. E ter encontrado esse jogo me fez ter contato mais intensamente comigo mesmo do que qualquer meditação o faria.

Por fim, meu fervor por jogos voltou, ou bem dizer, até pela vida voltou. Reviver minha infância novamente foi fundamental para eu poder crescer definitivamente. E tudo por conta desse jogo. E se tem um apelo que eu possa fazer é que por favor, joguem esse jogo e se lembrem de mim, pois vocês por terem lido esse texto estarão conectados comigo quando forem jogar esse jogo, pois compartilharemos de vivências diferentes, mas que estarão conectadas pelo cordão da nostalgia, da alegria e da potência de vida que reside em todos nós.

My heart yearns to go back to that summer. I want to stay there.
Boku no Natsuyasumi 2 is a beautiful game full of so much heart. You spend a summer as a child, called Boku, staying with his aunt and uncle in a small island village by the sea. You spend your days fishing, swimming, catching and fighting bugs, the usual holiday fare.
But you also form deep connections with everyone on the island and their visiting friends and relatives. You help so many people with their issues. No one is surface level, everyone is genuine and well thought out.
This game gracefully and realistically explores aging population, neglect, death and grieving, love, crime, cultural differences and more.
You have no goal in this game. You can choose to, or not to do any of this. Its entirely up to you what you do with your summer holiday. But its hard, truly to do nothing. There is an undescribable amount of love and care put into every element of this game, it feels me with deep peace and joy knowing that something like this is out there and was highly popular in Japan.
Play this game if you want summer, if you want to swim, if you miss home, your family, childhood, if you miss humanity and colour and you find yourself drowning in the greys and cruelty of the city. Go and spend your summer in the country.

Lovely, endearing, and earnest. Brought me back to the mentality of a kid without being infantilizing. It's a nostalgia bomb, but in a way that feels honest, pure, and celebratory of a moment in life as opposed to just pandering to your memories.

After the initial novelty wore off, I actually became a bit bored with the slow pace and lack of objectives until eventually getting into the groove of the core gameplay loop. At first I was under the impression that the game was just about meandering around the island, relaxing and doing whatever until all of the days pass. What I came to find though, and what ultimately hooked me on the game, was that there's a large focus on time management and making the most of each day before you have to go home (a la the life-sim portion of modern Persona games for example). I thought that a totally laid-back island sandbox experience was what I wanted, but after a few hours I was much happier to find that there is some tension-and-release gamification here through the time management and exploration.

Boku 2's action-less gameplay is made compelling by rewarding your exploration with excellent writing and atmosphere. Every character you meet on the island is likable with distinct personalities, motivations, and struggles that they'll clue you in on more and more as you visit them over the course of the month. While Boku 2 is a game about a child's experience and is written in a way that makes you feel as such, the dialogue is also incredibly realistic and willing to touch on heavier topics. I especially enjoyed Yoh and Yasuko's arc about overcoming their anxieties to rekindle their lost friendship. The writing helps make the game world feel so lived in, and the gorgeous still-camera locations + immaculate sound design seal the deal (I wanna live in Yasuko's observatory house so bad dude). Even the UI elements are made to be real-world objects further adding to the immersion of the island.

I love the way the game tickles your curiosity, hinting you towards things to find as you explore. A character may mention an item they left somewhere or an area you haven't been able to access yet offhand in a conversation. This is always in a way that feels natural; never feeling like a generic NPC pointing you towards an objective in a different game. Finally reaching these foretold areas or figuring out a secret and being rewarded with a delightful story event is where a lot of the joy of playing this game comes from. It delivers the sensations of freedom and discovery akin to other great exploration games like BotW or Outer Wilds (albeit with much lesser scope of course, but that's kind of the point).

Boku 2's a thought provoking game. It made me think about how I spend my time and cherish my days. It gives you a place where you feel a strong sense of belonging and only need to stress over whatever goals you set out for yourself. It made me think about what's important to me and simplifying my life. I loved that a portrayal of such a simple experience as going on childhood vacation made me this reflective.

Oh I love this game. It so perfectly captures the feeling of being a kid on a summer vacation that feels endless and magical and then all too short, and I would have loved this even if the immaculate vibes were all it had to offer. But no, Boku no Natsayasumi 2 ALSO has gorgeous 2D backgrounds and great character writing!

The story plays out through short scenes Boku has with the other people in town throughout the month, and they're all very charming. While Boku is having his idyllic, carefree summer vacation, the adults are dealing with the kind of grown-up problems you can't really grasp as a kid—you know something's going on and it seems like it's a big deal but it doesn't make sense. In the various vignettes, they allude to their grief, family conflicts, loss; Boku lends an ear, tries to understand. A lot of these conversations end with him walking away scratching his head in confusion. It all feels like the kind of off-handed comment you hear as a kid that you look back on as an adult and think, "oh wait, that was kind of dark!"

Not to say this game is super serious by any means. You can easily skip the conversations and have a pretty good time just taking in the atmosphere and catching bugs, but I appreciated the time the game spends fleshing out the supporting cast and giving them stories that I cared about. I also appreciated the little sleeping cats strewn about. Did not appreciate the tank controls 😞👎🏻🚫 he is a little boy NOT a large armored vehicle, you are being ridiculous

Looking past that (honestly I got used to the tank controls as I played, still mad about it though), this is a wonderful game that I loved playing. Boku no Natsayasumi 2 feels like stepping into a memory. Thank you to fan translator Hilltop for bringing this game to a whole new audience and helping me to discover a new favorite :)