Natsuiro Kokoro Log (ナツイロココロログ) Review

I’ve always figured I don’t really go for that whole “character design” thing.

Which is to say, whether a character is cute doesn’t hinge solely on her looks, or on the artist—building the actual person still takes a CV and a story with some meat on it.

So I’m generally not the type to see a girl in a picture and start shouting “I’d bang that” like some kind of animal.

And I’ve never really gotten the “moe-otaku” crowd, for the reasons above—whether a girl in a game is cute isn’t just about appearance; it’s her experiences, her way of talking, all of it added up that makes her feel like a real flesh-and-blood girl.

It’s a shallow world, but looks alone won’t cut it…

That’s what I thought.

So when I saw Natsuiro Kokoro Log, I lumped it in with the usual moe-bait character-vehicle stuff—figured it’d be a game with one good-looking girl, an empty story, a personality like garbage, obvious harem leanings, and a vague ending…

And honestly? That’s pretty much what it is… objectively speaking, at least. Though, hmm, maybe not entirely.

The setup for Natsuiro Kokoro Log is dead simple. The protagonist joins the “Computer Research Club” run by an upperclassman, which is really just a bunch of people playing games in the computer lab under the guise of “researching computers and software development.” But the club’s about to get axed because they’re just burning electricity playing games with nothing to show for it. So with help from their advisor and her little brother, they decide to develop a “dating sim” VR software as a research project—and this so-called VR software is… well, you know the type. A bunch of people go into a virtual world and chat.

Except the teacher lies. She tells the girls in the club that she’s set up an AI character that’s a 100% clone of the protagonist’s looks and personality, and asks them to test the dating sim with it. She also says the protagonist won’t be joining the test. Meanwhile, she invites the protagonist into the VR world and tells him to play the role of this “AI version” of himself…

So basically, the AI NPC the girls think looks like the protagonist is actually the protagonist himself, and only the teacher and he know.

With that setup, the rest is dead fucking simple. Through the gap between VR and reality, the protagonist easily picks up on the club members’ personality quirks and inner selves. The testers are the upperclassman Ayara, the underclassman Kotoné, his sister Suzu, and his classmate/childhood friend Kuon. And just as you’d expect, every girl gets all over this “AI” version of the protagonist in VR, making it feel like a full-blown harem.

The route split is just as blunt. One day the teacher asks the protagonist: for the next phase of the dating sim, only one heroine can stay for testing—who do you pick?

So whoever you pick, that’s whose route you get… and once you’re in, you go through the motions and end up confessing and then doing the deed…

Natsuiro Kokoro Log has no True End. Each route is independent, and there aren’t really any plot twists. But the OP drops a lot of hints that the childhood friend Kuon is the main heroine—and indeed she is.

Kuon’s route revolves around her long-standing crush on the protagonist and her tsundere inability to just say it, with all the resulting angst. In VR she’s a little bolder with him, but in reality she’s more reserved. Kuon is a rich girl whose mother died early; she and the protagonist played together as kids and met again later. Her feelings for him are direct and pure—she’s not some deep, complicated tsundere like in other games. Her tsundere side is more cute than anything. Then one day in VR, Kuon suddenly asks the “AI” protagonist out and gives a shy confession. The protagonist starts feeling guilty, thinking Kuon’s just talking to an AI. But she quickly calls him out: she knew all along that this “AI” was the real deal. The reason? The protagonist hurt his neck protecting her when they were kids, and he has a habitual gesture from that injury—something an AI couldn’t replicate.

Noticing detail that fine—now that’s a childhood friend for you.

After that things go smoothly enough. The protagonist confesses to Kuon, they become a couple, start dating. On Kuon’s birthday, the protagonist has a necklace made with a stone she likes and gives it to her. Kuon’s overjoyed. Then her father sees it and asks the protagonist: “Do you know what that stone in the necklace represents?”

“What?”

“Loyalty and eternal union—the choice of a lifelong partner.” Kuon’s father sizes him up. “Will you take Kuon as your wife?”

So at this point, anyone with half a brain can guess what the protagonist should say. And our great protagonist says:

“Oh… I didn’t know it meant marriage… and marriage, well, it’s a bit early for me…”

Kuon’s father looks like he just got fucked by a male panda. I look like I just got fucked by a female panda. Your father-in-law asks if you love his daughter, if you’ll make her happy, and you say you’re not sure about marriage, it’s too early… If I were the father-in-law I’d shove my cane straight up this idiot’s urethra and carve a chrysanthemum relief into his glans with nail clippers, seriously!

In the game, Kuon’s father doesn’t say much—he just turns and walks away, then tells Kuon the protagonist is unreliable and that he’ll arrange a marriage meeting for her.

Kuon, seeing her father’s opposition, is just sad. She doesn’t resist, quietly accepts, stops answering the protagonist’s calls, stops giving a shit about him.

The protagonist, at his wit’s end, goes to see Kuon but only finds her father. Kuon’s father tells him Kuon is his daughter, he wants her to be happy, and he’s already arranged a marriage meeting with someone who should be worthy of her. Finally, he asks the protagonist if he can make Kuon happy.

The protagonist thinks for a moment…

And turns around and goes home… Goes home… Home… Ho… O…

Back home, the protagonist lies in bed looking like he got fucked by a panda, still fantasizing about whether Kuon will resist the marriage meeting and create one last chance for him.

If there’s a last chance, it’s just the chance for the protagonist to get fucked by a bear. I’ve never seen such a stupid protagonist.

So why is Kuon such an obedient daughter? Because when her parents married, her mother was in poor health and was once thought unable to bear children. Despite that, she gave birth to Kuon and then died shortly after from her frail constitution. Kuon has always believed her birth stole her father’s love away, so she doesn’t want to hurt him. If her father disapproves of her relationship, she’ll just go along with him.

And honestly, I think Kuon’s father is completely right—a bear-fucked idiot like the protagonist is better off dead in a ditch.

Kuon suffers in her room, stops going to school, says she’s feeling unwell. Meanwhile the protagonist runs around town, wanders in VR, and only when he notices someone’s missing does he think something’s off. Then a day passes, two days, three days, and he’s still trying to “confirm his feelings for Kuon.” You already confessed and fucked twice, and now you’re telling me you need to confirm your feelings? Are you just hooking up? Your father-in-law asked if you’d marry his daughter and you said it’s too early; he asked if you could make her happy and you turned and ran. This goddamn protagonist, I swear.

The final stretch is cliché: after thinking at home for several days, the protagonist finally decides—he loves Kuon! (Fuck, it took him days? Sex first, love later?)

Once he’s sure, he goes to find Kuon, prepared to confront her father, the man “standing in the way of his love” (dude wasn’t standing in the way at all, you’re just an idiot).

He meets Kuon’s father and says he’s willing to marry Kuon and make her happy, and her father immediately agrees. (Look at this father-in-law—he’ll even take a piece of trash like the protagonist.)

In the end, Kuon receives the blessings of her father and her late mother, and lives happily ever after with the protagonist.

Aside from Kuon’s route, the others are a bit generic but passable. The sister Suzu’s route is the usual confession and sweet-couple stuff (and she doesn’t bleed her first time—worth pondering). I skipped the upperclassman’s route because the CV felt too familiar. But simply put, Kuon’s route alone is enough to get the point across. If only the protagonist weren’t such an idiot—then I could at least enjoy the great love between daughter and parents.

Natsuiro Kokoro Log’s story isn’t exactly interesting, at least in the common route. Every day is plain water dialogue, the character conversations are one-note, and the BGM in the common route is boring—just cheap-sounding electronic music. I don’t recognize any of the CVs except the upperclassman’s. The sister’s CV is apparently Nogami Natsuki, a big name in voice dramas. I listened and thought, yeah, that tracks, but it didn’t do much for me—maybe that kind of voice is rare in voice drama circles but just ordinary for visual novel dubbing.

So for a game that’s plain water in every way, I finished Kuon’s route without even realizing it, just happily pushing through… And all my deeper thoughts about the story, music, and CVs only came to me afterward while sitting on the toilet reflecting.

“Why did that happen?”

That’s abnormal…

But I soon figured it out… probably while playing the common route, I became a moe-otaku.

The art style is exactly my thing—the girls are drawn slender and delicate and cute, and Kuon’s little fang especially gets me. That “terrifying force field generated by character alone” effect made me ignore everything else. Just watching Kuon act cute in the game gave me immense satisfaction. Thanks to that, the plain water story turned sweet, the boring electronic music became heavenly, and Kuon’s love for her parents really hit home. If the protagonist hadn’t suddenly turned stupid and snapped me back to reality, I might have stayed entranced forever.

This effect was confirmed when I played the sister’s route. Since I wasn’t that into the sister’s character, I gradually realized the game is really nothing but art style… and my complaints grew louder, especially since the other routes aren’t as fleshed out as Kuon’s.

That’s when I think I understood the “moe-otaku” state…

In a moe-otaku’s eyes, there’s only the girl they’re moe for; everything else doesn’t matter. As long as a girl smiles at you, that’s already immense satisfaction—just like me looking at Kuon on screen.

So Natsuiro Kokoro Log is really hard for me to rate. Without a doubt, it’s a game that lives on its looks. Other aspects are below the industry average, but they’re not exactly negatives either—pure and harmless, except for the idiot protagonist.

And as someone who plays visual novels for the story, I generally wouldn’t say a game is un-not-uninteresting just because the characters are cute.

So this time I’ll make an exception and say it… provided you like this art style, of course… (Cute is justice—nobody dislikes it, right? Or are you gay?)