Japanese houses are spaces that have their own unique charm.
In contrast to the solid architecture of the West, they are divided by fragile materials such as wood and paper doors, loosely connected to the outside air. The ventilation is good, and a soft light filters in through the paper doors. On the other hand, there are lots of hiding places.
Behind folding screens, under the floor, atop the criss-crossing beams, on the other side of a lattice - a warm darkness resides everywhere. It's a warm darkness that gradually seeps into your body as you stand there.
Perhaps the reason why it seems as though something is lurking in a space you suddenly look at is because Japanese houses are made from living materials, starting with wood, that has breathed and passed the time alongside their residents?
Maybe because of this, it seems to me that the emotions of the people who have been there have seeped into these wooden Japanese houses. Meagre happiness, small sentimentalities, terrible memories - all of it. When I immerse myself in that darkness, I feel as though the memories of the deceased are secretly whispering to me.
In making this game, we put a lot of attention into creating the rooms so that you could imagine the events of the past from the various remnants lingering there. As you explore the rooms thoroughly, wondering what happened there, I want you to listen out for whispers from the darkness.
Makoto Shibata (director)