On the surface, it has all the hallmarks of a forgettable summer romance VN: a returning protagonist, a seaside town, a childhood friend, and the oppressive heat of Japanese August. But if you go into this game expecting fireworks and festival dates, you are going to leave with a very different kind of trauma.

I am talking about Natsuiro no Kowaremono (夏色の壊れもの), or The Broken Thing of Summer Colors .

You play as Takumi, a jaded city boy forced to spend his vacation in a rural coastal village. The "heroines" are exactly who you expect: the shy childhood friend (Yukino), the energetic foreigner (Erica), and the mysterious shrine maiden (Mizuki). The art is typical for the era—big eyes, soft pastels, and a UI that looks like a scrapbook.

The "Kowaremono" (broken thing) of the title isn't a metaphor. It’s a literal something living in the town’s server room (yes, the rural town has a strange, underground data facility—stay with me). As you pursue a romantic route, the "system" starts to break down. Yukino’s dialogue will suddenly repeat a single syllable for three text boxes. Mizuki will turn her back to the screen and never turn around again. The summer sky will flicker between daylight and a starless void.

For the first hour, the game lulls you into a false sense of security. You go swimming. You catch cicadas. You share a watermelon on the beach. It is aggressively, almost suspiciously wholesome.