How Fumito Ueda, Creator of “ICO” and “Shadow of the Colossus”, Sees Keita Takahashi’s New Game “to a T” — A Conversation About the Present and Future of Games, and Why Video Games Should Be More Free.
There’s a game designer named Keita Takahashi.
He directed Katamari Damacy, and has continued to create a number of wonderfully original titles such as Noby Noby Boy and Wattam.
This might be a bit personal, but I’ve long had a deep respect for Keita Takahashi. That feeling stems from a talk he gave at the Game Developers Conference in the U.S. back in 2005. Speaking to a room full of game creators, he closed his session with a powerful message: “You’re not making games for shareholders. Don’t get tied down—be free.”
Yes, video games are commercial products—that much is clear. But they’re also a medium where a creator’s personal vision can shine through. Speaking only for myself, I’m always drawn to things that are truly unique. I admire works that offer something you simply can’t experience anywhere else.
I’m always looking for games that can shake me emotionally in ways I’ve never felt before. And that’s exactly why I’ve always loved Keita Takahashi’s games. After playing through his latest title, "to a T", I came away with one clear impression: he’s once again pushing the boundaries of emotion in a way that only video games can express.
I realize that this explanation probably still leaves you thinking, “I don’t really get it.” And honestly, I don’t blame you. I admit it’s my shortcoming, but trying to put the appeal of this game into words is incredibly difficult. As I struggled to figure out how best to convey its essence, I caught wind that Keita Takahashi—who currently lives in San Francisco—would be returning to Japan.
The opportunity to interview him came up, which was exciting in itself, though I wasn’t quite sure what I should even ask. Then, by sheer luck, I was given the chance to bring in another conversation partner: none other than game designer Fumito Ueda, a longtime friend of Takahashi’s.
They spoke not only about what makes “to a T” so unique, but also shared their thoughts on video games more broadly. I hope you’ll read through to the end and enjoy the full conversation.
Interview, Writing, and Editing by Keigo Toyoda
Photography by Takamitsu Wada
A New Era Where Creating Original Game Mechanics Might No Longer Be the Goal
— Thank you so much for taking the time to speak with us today. I’ll get right to it—”to a T” is a game that I find incredibly difficult to talk about. It’s hard to put into words. Hard to explain. And going into this interview with you, Mr. Takahashi, I had a certain unease, wondering if I might be approaching the wrong themes altogether.
That’s why we’re especially fortunate today to be joined by someone who knows you well: game designer Fumito Ueda.
Fumito Ueda: Thank you for having me.
— “to a T” feels like a title that really depends on the sensibilities of the person playing it. I had assumed that it might be more warmly received overseas. How was it actually received internationally?
Keita Takahashi: I thought the same, honestly. But there still seems to be this unspoken notion that “games should be a certain way.” So I haven’t really sought out reviews very actively.
That said, when I see people posting on social media after playing it, saying things like “this was fun” or “I liked it,” that does make me happy.
Ueda: But it’s not like the game got bad reviews, right? Like on Steam, for example?
Takahashi: It’s actually rated Very Positive on Steam. But the number of reviews is just really low. It feels like it hasn’t reached enough people at all. I realized we really need to make more of an effort to get the word out. Still, I never expected you, Mr. Ueda, to enjoy “to a T” so much! (laughs)
Ueda: (laughs)
Takahashi: I was honestly shocked. Like, “Are you serious?” It made me tear up a little.
— I was already aware that the two of you were connected, but when did your friendship begin?
Ueda: I think it was at the Game Developers Conference (GDC), shortly after Katamari Damacy had been released. It was the one held in San Jose, California—so that would’ve been the 2004 GDC.
There was a booth showcasing several different games, and I remember running into Keita there and chatting. Back then, very few developers from Japan were attending GDC, so it naturally led to the formation of a small community among the Japanese developers who were there.
Takahashi: The reason I knew about you, Mr. Ueda, was because—before I started working on Katamari Damacy—someone higher up told me, “You should play some proper games that are out right now and get a feel for what a full-fledged game package is like.” So I played a few titles, and one of them was ICO. I also remember playing Cubivore (Dōbutsu Bancho).
— So that initial connection eventually led to a continued friendship.
Takahashi: Yeah, though it’s not like we go hang out or anything like that. (laughs)
Ueda: We don’t even really talk about games. When did you move to San Francisco?
Takahashi: It’s been about 12 years, I think. So at this point, I’ve spent about half my game development career overseas. I usually catch up with Ueda-san when I’m back in Japan.
Ueda: Yeah, sometimes we exchange a few greetings over social media, or I’ll message him like, “Hey, what did you think of that game that’s trending right now?” It’s that kind of connection.
Takahashi: We also talk about movies and shows—like, “Have you seen anything good lately?”
— So it’s been over 20 years of knowing each other. Ueda-san, what was your impression of "to a T"?
Ueda: It didn’t feel like a mechanics-driven game. It was more story-driven… (turning to Takahashi) Is that the direction you were aiming for?
Takahashi: When we released the first trailer for “to a T”, you asked me, “So what’s the gameplay like?” And when I replied, “Oh, there’s not really any unique mechanic,” you wrote back, “Nice.” I remember thinking, “Ah, that’s a comment from a true pro.” (laughs)
Ueda: I don’t exactly remember why I said “nice” back then, but I think it was probably because I felt that we're no longer in an era defined by mechanics.
Takahashi: You’ve been saying that for a while now. Even around the time Journey came out—you were already talking about how “the era of mechanics is over.”
Ueda: Yeah, even without introducing groundbreaking new mechanics, I think there’s value in refining the tactile feel or deepening the artistic elements. Whether someone likes it or not is one thing, but I feel like there’s more room now to sharpen what already exists.
Bringing it back to “to a T”, my honest impression after playing was: “this feels just right.”
The volume of content, the combination of story and minigames—it’s all there, but the minigames aren’t mandatory to progress. That kind of looseness felt refreshing to me. And it just suited where I’m at right now. Lately, I don’t often finish games, but this one… I actually played it all the way through. That says something.
Takahashi: That’s some high praise you’re giving me there! (laughs) I’m okay with not having many reviews anymore. If I’ve got your compliments, Ueda-san, that’s enough for me.
— (laughs) How about your impressions of the characters or the more “game-like” parts of it?
Ueda: It’s a very small detail, but I really liked how “to a T” didn’t use any translucency.
There’s almost no translucent rendering anywhere, and I could really sense the attention to detail. Even the shadows are handled with halftones. Despite being made in Unreal Engine—a tool that’s fully capable of photorealistic rendering—you deliberately stripped all of that away.
That pursuit of a new kind of visual expression, of a new stylization, was very interesting to me.
Takahashi: We actually thought about adding more toon shader outlines at first, but we just couldn’t get it to work properly. Between processing load and camera angles where it’d break visually, we eventually decided halftone shaders were the way to go.
Ueda: That probably ended up being the right call. If you’d gone with line art, it might’ve just looked like an imitation of anime.
There wasn’t any stress in terms of the game’s “feel,” either. It’s not the kind of game that’s trying to deliver that instant response feedback you get from twitchy controls.
When it came to the wide range of everyday actions—washing your face, brushing your teeth—it reminded me a bit of Heavy Rain. It’s about carefully portraying mundane daily life, and maybe there’s a touch of comedy in there, too.
Takahashi: Yeah, when the main character has a body that’s stuck in a T-shape, you can’t really avoid portraying little everyday moments. In a way, it’s like a simulator built around having a T-shaped body.
Ueda: And the way the game allows those moments to fade out works really well. You could have forced the player to repeat them every day, but instead, it’s left as something optional.
Those scenes are important to make the character’s world feel real, but just when the player starts to think, “This might get a little tedious if it keeps going,” the game lets you stop doing them. That balance felt really good to me—it gave off this nice sense of, “It’s okay to take it easy.”
Takahashi: If everyone looked at the world with that kind of warmth, maybe we’d have peace on Earth. But people aren’t always that kind. (laughs)
Ueda: When I saw the school uniforms and all the different character types walking around town, it
struck me as kind of manga-esque in its setup.
Takahashi: The reason I included school uniforms was because I wanted to clearly separate daily life and school life. I wanted players to naturally experience the idea of, “Okay, it’s a school day—let’s put on the uniform.”
Ueda: But that’s not really a common thing in the U.S., is it?
Takahashi: There are a few places that have it, but yeah, uniforms aren’t really a thing in the US. That said, people know about them because everyone watches Japanese anime.
Ueda: So it doesn’t make people go, “Wait, what’s this?”
Takahashi: Ah, but there was one thing—people in the U.S. asked me, “Why are they changing shoes when they enter the school?” because that’s not a common custom over there. So in one cutscene, I added a bit to explain it, like “Why does it smell here? Oh, because there are shoes,” to clarify what’s going on.
Ueda: Why were you so particular about portraying Japanese school life?
Takahashi: I wasn’t really “particular” about it. It’s more that I didn’t have a clear sense of what American school life is like. I’ve never experienced it myself. I know a little through my child, but since I never went through it myself, I didn’t have the confidence to depict it properly. So I leaned toward something more Japanese.
Ueda: So rather than trying to simulate student life from a specific country, you wanted to mix in the elements you personally liked?
Takahashi: Yeah. For example, I really like the idea of changing into indoor shoes. I know it’s kind of annoying in a game to make the player do that every time… but I just couldn’t let that one go.
Ueda: You are the only Japanese on the team, right? How did you convey those ideas to them?
Takahashi: Pretty straightforwardly. I showed them photos, drew my own design sketches, and gave detailed feedback on everything.
Ueda: That unified feeling really comes across—it’s because the vision is coming from one person.
Shape
Impulse and spontaneity enrich a work more than logic
— As you just mentioned, there’s a strong sense of cohesion in the game overall. How many people were on the development team?
Takahashi: At its peak, just a little over 10 people. Super small team. At most, we had four engineers, two animators, two artists… something like that.
Ueda: Did you also draw the storyboards and write the script yourself?
Takahashi: Yes. I handled the dialogue, camera directions for the cutscenes, and the minigame designs as well.
Ueda: And this was a worldwide release, with a foreign publisher, right?
Despite that, you didn’t seem to try to “tidy up” the game or make it overly easy to understand. And I think that’s what made the world feel so unique. It felt a little bit like a Japanese manga—a kind of surreal manga world. There are some manga with that kind of atmosphere in Japan, and to me, this game felt like a video game version of that, which really made sense.
— Could you elaborate a bit more on what you meant by “manga-like”?
Ueda: With serialized manga, sometimes things take really unexpected turns depending on the creator’s mood at the time—there’s a kind of spontaneity to it. And when you take a step back and look at the whole thing, those twists often work to create something uniquely compelling and mysterious.
Whether it was intentional or not, “to a T” really gave me that same impression. I think that unpredictability is part of what makes it feel fresh to people.
Takahashi: But there are people who still ask things like, “Why is there a giraffe?” Like, they just can’t get over how strange it is.
— (laughs)
Ueda: They want explanations. I imagine overseas developers might be the type to ask, “What’s the backstory here?”
But in Japanese subculture manga, it’s often less about logic and more about energy and that raw, live feeling—that’s what enriches the work. And because we grew up with that kind of manga, we just naturally accept it without needing much justification. So I actually thought that might feel refreshing to overseas players, precisely because it’s different from what they’re used to…
Takahashi: Even in something like Star Wars, there are aliens of all shapes and sizes, right? So having a giraffe show up shouldn’t be such a big deal.
But there were actually a few reviewers who did comment on that, and that surprised me a bit. I mean… I don’t even really remember why I chose a giraffe in the first place. (laughs)
Ueda: I don’t think you need a reason for it.
Takahashi: Well… I guess I thought if there was a shop and a giraffe was standing there, it’d be pretty eye-catching. That’s probably how the idea came about. It’s not like I was trying to create a super weird world or anything. In fact, I didn’t want it to feel too strange.
That’s why I really admire the expressive freedom and flexibility that manga has. I love those moments when a character suddenly becomes deformed or simplified mid-story—it’s such a charming part of manga. But if you wanted to do something like that in a game, it takes a lot of prep work.
Ueda: Yeah, you'd have to build entirely new models…
Takahashi: Exactly. I mean, you can do it if you prepare properly, but in manga, you can just draw it and it works. That simplicity makes me kind of jealous. Including an opening and ending song—those were decisions I made because I wanted to lean into that anime-style format.
— I love that sense of contrast and rhythm.
Takahashi: Yeah, I felt like that kind of anime format was just perfect for telling a story about teenagers. My thinking was that, if I could just layer something interactive on top of that framework, it might turn into something really interesting.
I thought it might be fun to blur the lines—like, “Is this a game? An anime? A manga?” If people can’t quite tell, that ambiguity itself could be compelling. Of course, there are plenty of things I couldn’t pull off, and I wouldn’t say I’m completely satisfied. But I do feel like what we ended up with came pretty close to what I had originally envisioned.
Ueda: That’s why, as I mentioned earlier, the experience felt so refreshing. Even if the mechanics themselves are familiar, just by shifting the balance or rearranging things, it becomes something that delivers a fresh, meaningful experience.
By the way, were there any specific inspirations behind the opening and ending themes? Like a particular anime or show, for example?
Takahashi: The one I showed to my wife Asuka Sakai, who composed the all music of “to a T”, was Tokimeki Tonight【*】, Both the opening and ending are fantastic. The opening is samba-style, and the ending is a dance tune—almost like city pop. The lyrics are just genius.
- 【Tokimeki Tonight】 A manga series by Koi Ikeno that ran in Ribon from 1982 to 1994. It was also adapted into a TV anime in 1982.
Takahashi: Another one is the ending theme from Urusei Yatsura【*】. The lyrics are incredible. Lines like “Let’s gather weird things and make them even weirder”—I just want to play that for all the people who are so quick to reject things.
【*Ending theme of Urusei Yatsura】
Takahashi is referring to “Uchuu wa Dai Hen da!” with lyrics by Akira Ito and music by Izumi Kobayashi.
Ueda: The opening and ending served as perfect transitions. When we think about the role of cutscenes in video games, yes, they’re there to help the player understand or experience part of the narrative—but they also function as a signpost: “You’re on the right path.”
When you try to tell a story using realistic, high-end cutscenes, a significant portion of the development budget tends to go toward producing those. But here, the opening and ending sequences effectively communicated, “You’ve made progress,” which I thought was a fresh approach. It lets players stop there for the day and reset emotionally.
Takahashi: Exactly, I want them to stop. Like, “Let’s pick it up again tomorrow.”
Ueda: It’s like a break between courses. After intense gameplay, when a cutscene starts, you naturally put the controller down. This game guides you to that moment, and it does it without relying on those typical, elaborate, one-off cinematic scenes. That was really clever. And the music is great too. …By the way, is the soundtrack out?
Takahashi: It’s now streaming on Spotify. It would've been best to release it alongside the game, ideally… but then again, if we had, it might’ve spoiled the story a bit, so maybe it worked out fine.
Ah! That reminds me—Ueda-san, you sent me a text praising the game. You said, “You tied it all together really well.”
Ueda: It’s not easy to stay consistent with a single idea throughout a project. And a game needs to have enough play value to warrant a release. This isn’t a mechanics-driven game, and it’s not like there’s some objectively correct “balance” to hit either.
Takahashi: There were ideas I had to cut with tears in my eyes, and parts where the pacing or balance isn’t quite perfect. Even now, I sometimes think, “Hmm, was that the right choice?” But that’s just how it is, isn’t it?
Speaking of balance—since there’s a story reason for why the character is stuck in a T-pose, the second half naturally involves more text to explain that mystery. But I didn’t want to end the game quietly with just dialogue and cutscenes. That’s why I made the end credits interactive.
Ueda: So, if you do well in that part, does something happen?
Takahashi: You get an achievement.
Actually, there was one more thing I wanted to include, but we ran out of time… Still, I feel like the end credits serve as a culmination of sorts—maybe a way to say, “See? Everyday life can be fun too.”
Ueda: Was the idea kind of like a boss rush? Like playing through all the mini-games back-to-back?
Takahashi: Yeah, exactly. That’s basically all it is, but I was really happy we managed to end the game that way. It felt like the right note to go out on.
“I wanted it to be a story where being in a T-pose is just normal”
Ueda: Going back to the mechanics—when you focus on a T-shaped character like this, there's this tendency to think, “Well, then I need to build meaningful rules and mechanics around that.”
But in “to a T”, you didn’t go down that path. Like, when the teen spins around and takes off flying, you kind of expect something to happen from that—like, “Okay, now we’re going to fly somewhere and do something”—but then… it just doesn’t go anywhere (laughs).
That part felt really fresh to me—like, “Oh, so that’s not the point either.”
Takahashi: Narratively, I felt like I needed to add that function as a sort of catalyst for the teen to awaken to something. But maybe it would’ve been cleaner without it. That’s probably just a shortcoming on my part.
Ueda: You could have designed it so that the player can fly infinitely and added gameplay rules like in Katamari Damacy, right?
But "to a T" doesn’t go there. If it had become one of those games where you’re under a time limit and have to “do X within Y seconds,” that probably would’ve been too exhausting for me.
When a creator becomes overly committed to executing an idea in a rigid way, I think it often makes the experience more tiring.
Takahashi: Yeah, a T-pose is obviously not normal—but for the teen, it is their normal.
Maybe I’m projecting too much onto the teen, but that’s why I didn’t want to build mechanics like, “Because they’re shaped like a T, they have to do this and that.”
Sure, from a product or game design standpoint, that might be the “correct” answer. But forcing the teen—who sees themselves as perfectly normal—to keep doing things just because of their body shape… something about that didn’t sit right with me.
If I had leaned in that direction, maybe it would’ve made more “sense” in terms of structure. But then it’d just be like every other game. You’d have missions that must use that ability, and only that ability—and honestly, I find that kind of thing exhausting. I don’t want to play that kind of game. And if I don’t want to play it, how could I be motivated to make it? It’d feel like going down a path that’s already been tread.
Ueda: That’s exactly why I messaged Takahashi and said, “You really pulled it all together well” (laughs).
Actually, there was a moment during my playthrough when I started to think, “Wait—is this actually a superhero story?”
The game gradually hints at the possibility that the protagonist might have special powers, right? So I wondered if, at some point, they’d gain some incredible ability that would let them unleash all the frustration they’d been bottling up—and that would become the core of the game.
But then... that expectation was also beautifully subverted (laughs).
Takahashi: Yeah, I made a conscious effort to avoid going in that direction. If we’d gone down that road, the whole story would’ve spiraled into something way too big to wrap up neatly.
I wanted to keep it grounded as a story about a middle schooler.
— By the way, did you also design the layout of the town where the game takes place?
Takahashi: I did.
Ueda: The camera control feels a bit unusual, doesn’t it?
Takahashi: That was my small act of rebellion against the standard convention that the right stick must control the camera (laughs).
Ueda: You could’ve made it a constant behind-the-back camera, right?
Takahashi: Oh, easily. But I didn’t even explore that idea—right from the start I was set on using a side-view perspective.
I didn’t want players to be stuck staring at the character’s back the whole time. To show both the character’s facial expressions and their T-pose, the side view was essential.
But making the town layout fully 2D felt boring, so I spent a lot of time figuring out how to blend that side-view camera into a 3D environment. Honestly, I still don’t think I fully nailed it. Camera work is just so important—the way things are shown totally changes how they’re perceived.
With "to a T", I wanted people unfamiliar with the game to see it and think, “Huh, this looks like something new.”
— That makes sense. Some game developers have said that when they play games, all they see are variables and data assets.
Ueda: Yeah, I feel the same way.
You start playing a game, and after just a little while, you can predict how it’s going to unfold. You think, “Okay, I get it—this is the kind of experience they’re going for,” and your brain just starts mapping it all out. Like, “There’s probably a script running here,” or “It must be loading something right now.”
Because of our line of work, we can see through the underlying structure, so we lose that feeling of “there’s a world here.” It starts to feel too predetermined, and it just doesn’t excite me anymore. It’s like eating the same dish over and over—you start predicting the taste just by looking at it, and eventually you think, “Yeah, I’ve had enough.”
In "to a T", the town map was initially masked by clouds, right? For a moment, I thought, “Wait, do I have to uncover the entire map?” But then I realized—no, you actually don’t have to do that. And that gave me such a huge sense of relief.
Takahashi: Yeah, I was laughing to myself while making that part. (laughs)
Ueda: When a game forces you to do too many things, you end up wanting to escape it—watch a drama, or hop over to YouTube instead. But "to a T" managed to keep my motivation to play. It just felt “right.”
For players who care about value or length, it might seem a bit short, but nowadays we’re surrounded by so many forms of entertainment. And for me, "to a T"’s pacing really matched my current relationship with games.
Takahashi: A miracle, huh? (laughs)
Ueda: Given how little time people have, the episodic format made a lot of sense. It’s easy to play through one episode and think, “Okay, that’s enough for today.” That kind of playstyle fits today’s environment really well.
Takahashi: Maybe the biggest mistake was the platform choice. I wonder if it should’ve been released on Nintendo Switch… There are a lot of hurdles, but I’d really like to see it playable on Switch—or Switch 2.
Ueda: You know, we’re no longer in the era where it’s impressive for each individual blade of grass to sway and react when touched. That’s just expected now. Doing that won’t surprise players anymore, so maybe it’s time to allocate resources toward surprising them in different ways.
Takahashi: Watching my kids play Roblox, it really hits home. Grass doesn’t have to move. Animations can be rough. It’s kind of shocking, but yeah… that’s just the world we live in now.
Ueda: Our generation grew up in an era where hardware and software advanced together—games were like tech showcases. Big characters! 3D graphics! But that’s no longer the point. Now, it’s about what games express—the content, the presentation, the story.
So yeah, spending resources on things that truly surprise the audience feels like the right direction. Even how you handled the camera—I thought, “Now that’s a choice!” (laughs)
Takahashi: Wait—people don’t do that anymore?
— Even in real-time cutscenes, a lot of games keep the camera fixed.
Takahashi: Then why bother doing it in real-time at all? (laughs)
Ueda: Maybe it's to reduce file size, or to reflect the player's outfit or equipment. But if that’s the only reason, the cost seems way too high.
Takahashi: I guess I really do need to play more recent games. Actually, when someone asked me, “How do you come up with games like this?” I answered, “Maybe because I don’t play games.” And they said, “Yeah, that makes sense.”
Video games are still such a young medium. There's no set definition of what they have to be. I think it's okay to be a little more free with them. Of course, doing something different carries risks—it might not sell—but still…
Ueda: That’s why I think "to a T" was a real challenge. But it didn’t feel like it was trying to be edgy or shout “Look how new this is!” either.
Takahashi: I honestly wasn’t trying to make something “new.” I just feel like everyone’s so bound by these invisible rules—formats, genres, how things should be done. People just accept them without question. Maybe I just haven’t done my homework and there are games out there doing things differently. But I want to show young creators that, hey—it’s totally okay to make something like this, too.
Recently, I had this moment that really made me realize—I haven’t done much for the next generation. Not as a game designer, but just as an adult. I’ve been thinking only about myself all this time. Like, when you look at social media, adults post everything purely for business. They don’t think about how it affects kids. And kids just imitate what they see, so they end up being influenced in a bad way.
That kind of self-reflection made me want to create something that focuses on kids—something that centers on teenagers. I wanted the protagonist to say, “I don’t know what’s good.” Because people have both good and bad sides. That’s just part of being human.
Ueda: When the earthquake struck Japan in 2011, I think a lot of people in the Japanese entertainment industry were hit with a sense of powerlessness. But in the end, we realized the only thing we could do was keep making things. Not by changing our methods, but by continuing to create. That’s how we can give people a bit of energy or a reason to live. I think many of us came to that conclusion.
Takahashi: Back in university, when I was studying sculpture, I remember thinking, “What’s the point of sculpture?” It felt so meaningless. I kept wondering if I should be doing something else that was more useful to society. You start comparing—Is this really what I want to do? And even as I tried to pursue what I wanted, I kept questioning whether it could actually feed anything back into the world.
I don’t really watch dramas much, but the ones I have seen tend to be pretty dark. So I started to think, I want to create something that focuses more on the good in people—something with a pleasant atmosphere.
Ueda: Would you say you’re naturally a positive person? Like, with "to a T", it didn’t feel like you were forcing yourself to be upbeat just for the sake of it?
Takahashi: Yeah, I think I’m naturally optimistic. I didn’t force myself—but I went into it with the mindset of: “Bad things happen, but let’s try and paint over them with something a bit more positive.”
Ueda: I think that definitely came through.
Takahashi: Wait… is this really the kind of conversation you’re okay putting in the article?
— Absolutely. The goal isn’t to provide a concrete answer, but to help readers get a better sense of what "to a T" is as a game.
Takahashi: Well, you are the media—you should do the explaining! (laughs) Just kidding. That actually makes me feel a lot better. Because, you know, when you say something like “It’s a positive game,” it just doesn’t sound very compelling.
— Exactly. With your previous games—Katamari Damacy was about “rolling,” Noby Noby Boy was about “stretching,” and Wattam was about “connecting.” These are all verbs. But "to a T" feels more like a noun—it’s about youth or life. So in a way, that brings us back to the challenge of how to communicate it.
Takahashi: Right. Even saying “It’s healing” or “It’s uplifting” doesn’t really pack a punch. So yeah, I still wonder what the best way is to convey that.
I kind of hope that five or ten years from now, if someone tries to analyze the game by saying “The T-shaped body is clearly tied to the game mechanics and difficulty curve,” that kind of commentary will feel completely off the mark. — (Laugh)
Ueda: Do you know the manga artist Takashi Imashiro?【*】 It might sound uncool to call his work "surreal manga," but it feels more accurate to just say “a title with that kind of tone.” To a T gave me a similar impression. Like, it lives within a framework where pointing out how surreal it is would just feel out of place.
You know how musicians sometimes put out an album that’s a little different from their usual style? In music, that’s totally accepted. But in games, pleasure or gratification tends to come first—so when something strays from that expectation, people start saying things like “the gameplay isn’t strong enough…”
【*】Takashi Imashiro A manga artist known for a unique style that blends a sense of nihilism and passion. He has many fans among creators across various industries. Notable works include Demeking, Tokotoko Bushi, Tsuren Boy, and Bakeneko Anzu-chan.
Takahashi: Seriously, this game is just so hard to describe. I wanted it to be more like Chibi Maruko-chan or Sazae-san—you know, something along those lines...
— Calling it “Momoko Sakura-esque” does help convey the feeling, actually. (laughs)
Takahashi & Ueda: Momoko Sakura【*】 is a genius.
【*】Momoko Sakura She was best known as the creator of Chibi Maruko-chan and Coji-Coji.
Ueda: Though I’m from Kansai (The west side of Japan) , so I grew up more on Jarinko Chie. (laughs)
Takahashi: Now that we’re talking about manga—I’ve actually been thinking about trying to draw one myself. You can do it solo, and it feels more direct than making a game. Writers, too—they can express so much just with words. That’s really impressive.
Ueda: But Takahashi, you’re more of a “tactile person,” right?
Takahashi: Yeah, that’s true. But still—I envy that kind of expression. Instead of spending millions to make a game, they can do it on a much smaller scale and still get their ideas across. That’s amazing.
— It’s a time where individuals can broadcast their work, so we’re seeing more minimalist forms of expression.
Takahashi: Do you think the “video game bubble” is still going to continue?
Ueda: Hmm... I’m not sure. But if we reach a point where, in large-scale game development, AI can support the things we want to express—then we might be able to lower production costs while keeping a consistent vision.
Takahashi: That would lead to more creators popping up, right?
Ueda: True. But even then, I feel like there won’t be that many people who can actually think “I want it this way,” or “No, not like that, like this.”
Takahashi: Totally agree. It’s like—people already know what they want. They’re not really looking for something new, I think.
— Do you have a specific emotion or reaction you hope players feel after playing?
Takahashi: I just hope it gives them some kind of positive feedback in their own life. Like, maybe it helps them see things from a slightly different perspective.
I think it’s surprisingly enjoyable, so I really hope people give it a try.
…
So, what did you think?
I hope you'll understand why this article keeps a conversational tone—we wanted to convey the dynamic between the two creators as authentically as possible.
For those who’ve already played "to a T", Ueda’s comments about the game being “just right” and “refining familiar mechanics” probably resonated deeply.
Even Takahashi himself admitted that "to a T" is a game that’s hard to explain. But perhaps his statement says it all:
“Video games are still a young medium. There’s no set definition for what they should be. I think it’s okay to be a little more free.”
If you’re someone who seeks out new paths rather than treading the ones already taken, "to a T" might just be the perfect game for you.
If this conversation has sparked your curiosity, we encourage you to experience it for yourself.
You can read the original Japanese article here.