Growing up awkward in the most whimsical way possible in to a T.
When to a T was first shown, it didn’t seem like your typical coming-of-age story. Instead, it came in like a rocket with its arms locked in place, thanks to the creative mind of Keita Takahashi, the strange developer behind Katamari Damacy.
Takahashi is known for rolling up everyday objects into psychedelic chaos. His move into the stiff-legged world of awkward adolescence seems both strange and oddly appropriate. He switches from crazy physics puzzles to something calmer, more personal, and emotionally complex in to a T, but he doesn’t lose that signature weird charm.
to a T is about a 13-year-old girl whose arms are always stuck in a T pose. The story takes place in a small, slightly surreal Japanese town where animals run cafés and tornadoes mess up people’s morning routines. A touching story about growing up, fitting in, and loving the parts of yourself that other people might find funny is hidden behind this silly premise.
You choose a character and their loyal dog friend, then try to live a “normal” life by going to school, brushing your teeth, picking out clothes, and trying to pay attention in class while other kids make fun of you and laugh. But every day, things in town get stranger. Strange storms start to form, and your main character starts to find a hidden skill that turns a physical weakness into a unique strength.
In the end, what began as a story about a tween who felt alone turns into an unlikely superhero origin story complete with flying. The story of the game is told in eight short episodes. Each episode starts with a happy song and ends with a realistic emotional moment, such as dealing with bullying, making friends, or learning to accept yourself more.
to a T is like an interactive slice-of-life cartoon. Every day starts in your bedroom, where your dog helps you get dressed (because, again, T-arms), wash your face, and eat breakfast with a spoon that can be stretched out. After you finish your daily tasks, you go to school, where you have to navigate the sidewalks, deal with classmates who tease you and set off story events by moving and interacting with others.
There are no skill trees, leveling up, or branching paths in the game. The events of each day happen in a certain order, but many of the morning tasks can be skipped after the first time. You can sometimes look around town, collect coins for new clothes, play mini-games (some of which are hosted by a giraffe making sandwiches), and get short bursts of new abilities, like being able to spin through the air.
It’s all about acting like a kid with stiff arms in a world that doesn’t quite fit them, which can be cute or awkward. to a T doesn’t have traditional combat, and there aren’t many puzzles either. Aside from the story, most of the interaction is based on short mini-games, such as food delivery challenges or rhythm tasks.
One of the best “action” features is the ability to spin in the air and fly short distances, which is often used to get coins or look around on rooftops. There’s a lot of weirdness in the game, but there are also some rough spots in the mini-games. Some of them aren’t clear about what they’re trying to do, or don’t seem to care about the players, especially the younger ones.
It’s nice that the game itself says you don’t have to win them to move on, but that also takes away their stakes and weight. They’re silly distractions that don’t work all the time. The spinning/flying mechanic is fun, but it’s not often used in a way that makes sense for gameplay or exploration.
This game does not have an XP system or grinding. Instead, the only money you have is coins that are spread out around town. You can use these coins to buy clothes and shoes. These don’t change how the game is played, but they do make it feel more like personal expression. Those who were hoping for a reward loop might be let down by the lack of progression, but it’s clear that the story and atmosphere are more important than the gameplay.
to a T uses a simple, happy art style reminiscent of the covers of Saturday morning cartoons and indie pop albums. Simple shapes are used to make the characters with faces that resemble doodles. The town is clean, colorful, and full of cute oddities. Some visual filters, like CRT modes, disco lights, and pixelation, make things look different, but they’re more for fun than for work.
The way the art and character design go with the writing is quite brilliant. There’s an “X” on the dog’s behind, too. Each frame is full of whimsy without being overdone, and the style of the art fits with Takahashi’s playful history. to a T‘s audio is made up of two parts: catchy music and expressive nonsense.
The same theme songs play at the beginning and middle of each episode. They are happy, upbeat, and quickly repeat. You might love them at first, but by episode five, they start to wear thin. Luckily, every part of town has its own background music, and your character will sometimes whistle along with it, making otherwise quiet parts more enjoyable.
The strangeness of the world is reflected in the sound design. The language used in conversations sounds a lot like Simlish, which keeps the tone light and funny while still showing emotional beats. Even though there isn’t much voice acting, each character feels unique.
to a T is like a warm hug with arms that are too stiff. The concept of being stuck in a T-pose is used as a metaphor for growing up, being awkward, and learning to accept your flaws. The story is moving, the characters are memorable, and the overall mood is adorably cozy.
But it doesn’t work well as a game. The game is very light and easy to get bored with, and the mini-games are either forgettable or frustrating. There aren’t many accessibility options, and even with your loyal dog guide’s help, navigation can be tricky.
To a T doesn’t try to be a mechanically rich experience, though. The story is light and enjoyable, with just enough action to keep you interested. This little adventure might be just what you’re looking for if you want something soft, strange, and touching.
