Whisking Away to a Serene Catgirl Cafe: My Surprising Journey into ASMR Gaming

Here I am in my room, surrounded by vanilla cough drop wrappers and wadded-up tissues, browsing through the Steam Next Fest listings for a demo to try out. My chest aches, my throat feels like I’ve been chewing on tree bark, and my nasal situation – well, I won’t elaborate, but it’s not pleasant. I’m unwell, alright? And the kinds of bullet hell, roguelite nightmares, and hack-and-slash delights I usually love to indulge in aren’t ideal for a sick day. You see, I had no option but to set aside my hesitations about anime catgirls and dive into Kemono Teatime.

What can I say? A respiratory infection has me feeling incredibly weak. Listening to cute cat waifus whisper ASMR while you play Kemono Teatime isn’t exactly my usual cup of tea, yet here I am, having just microwaved some macaroni and cheese. I’m on my third cup of lavender tea, and my voice still resembles that of a walrus girl. Sometimes you have to set aside your preferences during moments like these.

And I’m glad I did. Strangely enough, Kemono Teatime seems just as skeptical as I am about the genres it draws inspiration from – cafe simulations with their peculiar art style and visual novels featuring blushing cherry blossom anime girls.

This became evident rather quickly. I spent my 40 minutes with the Kemono demo managing Cafe K, a tea and dessert establishment run by the human girl Tarte and her little sister Macaron, who recently sprouted a tail. Despite the charming shop being located in the scenic town of La Bête, a sanctuary for kemonomimi folks with animal ears, something sinister is clearly lurking beneath the sweet facade of the community.

While I served healing teas infused with herbs – a process animated by gentle, sensory bubbling and stirring – cafe patrons would display glossary terms that I could then reference in my menu. Through this, I learned that Kemono Teatime’s world had spent the past year embroiled in a pandemic, which led to governmental collapse worldwide and reduced the human population to just 20%.

“Various theories regarding the virus’ origins have emerged,” the in-game text states. “Some claim it was a natural occurrence, while others suspect it was a biohazard engineered by pharmaceutical companies.” Even stranger is the reality that Cafe K’s customers pay using blue-and-white capsules. All of La Bête’s residents seem exceedingly preoccupied with mortality…

I am too; after all, I’m unwell. So, given my, let’s say, delicate state right now, I proceed with my day.