Prologue

Kukkoro.

It is the world’s greatest mystery, the pinnacle of human historical treasures, refined over hundreds of thousands of years.

Even when a noble woman is defeated by a loathsome foe, she remains strong, clinging to her pride. Watching that defiant figure, the gentlemen of the world find their breathing growing heavy—ahem, ahem—with excitement.

A kukkoro moment is as fleeting as cherry blossoms. Its brilliance may be short-lived than a gemstone’s, but, that single instant of radiance, it outshines everything else in existence.

And I, Shun Usami, was one of those, whose heart had been stolen by the kukkoro.

I was your average high school boy, but every cent of my allowance went toward manga and doujinshi featuring kukkoro heroines. Even then, my soul was never quite quenched; I never stopped yearning for more.

Despite being socially awkward, I eventually started juggling multiple part-time jobs on pure impulse, dumping my entire paycheck into the hobby. I am a self-proclaimed hardcore kukkoro fanatic.

This is the story of how a fanatic like me spent his life—and the next—chasing the ultimate kukkoro…

◇　

Yaaaawwn…

Walking the usual route to school in the morning, I let out a massive yawn and wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. My "research" the night before, had been so fascinating that I’d stayed up until the crack of dawn. I was running on fumes.

"Haha. Lack of sleep again, Shun?"

The one calling out to me was my best friend, Kazunari Tamura. He was a fellow man of culture who shared my passion for the trope. The moment we’d discovered our mutual interests back in freshman year, we’d hit it off instantly. It wasn't an exaggeration to call him my brother-in-arms.

"I got a little too intense with my research," I replied. "Wanna see? It’s the latest chapter of that manga everyone’s talking about for its kukkoro scene."

I held out my phone to show him the screen, but Kazunari just gave me a fearless smirk. He pulled out his own phone and flashed it at me. It was already open to the exact same chapter.

"Heh... You think I’d miss that? I read it the second it dropped last night!"

"Whoa... Not bad. But you’re still naive. Have you seen this?"

I tucked my phone back into my pocket and carefully pulled a book from my bag. It was a doujinshi—a prized item from my secret collection that I’d picked up at a recent event. I’d decided to bring it along today on a whim.

"Wh-What is that?!"

"This? It’s by an artist who hasn't really hit the mainstream yet... but the art, the pacing, the composition... it’s all top-tier! And above all else! Look at this heroine’s expression! She’s been beaten by the enemy, her eyes are brimming with frustration,yet her spirit hasn't broken an inch! Don't you want to read it?"

"O-Oh...! Wait, you’re actually gonna let me?!"

"Heh, we’re bros, aren't we? Of course."

When I handed it over, Kazunari’s hands actually trembled. He took it with the utmost care and began devouring the pages. This was why I liked the guy. He treated books with respect, and we were always on the same wavelength.

I waited excitedly for his review. Finally, he snapped the book shut, his eyes sparkling as he looked up.

"This is insane! This artist is a freaking genius!"

"Heh heh heh... Right?"

"Yeah! I’m a fan now! I’m definitely buying their next work!"

Seeing him that happy made me glad I’d shared it. I’d been blown away when I first read it, too. The story itself was solid even without the trope, and the build-up to the heroine’s defeat was masterful.

But the real star was her expression. The delicate linework captured a beauty that belonged in a world-class museum, yet it maintained a perfect balance of knightly pride and raw strength. There wasn't a single flaw to be found. "Hidden Genius of Kukkoro" felt like an understatement.

Honestly, if this got more exposure, the whole community would lose its collective mind. I really had to pat myself on the back for spotting those seven tiny letters in a corner of the catalog. Such an impossibly small 'kukkoro'... anyone else would've missed it.

"The artist said on social media that they’re attending an event soon... You wanna go with me?"

"I'm in! Please, take me with you!"

"Alright. Here's the date. You free?"

"Even if I have plans, I’ll clear them! It’s fine!"

Kazunari gave me a thumbs-up and a grin that reminded me of a kid promising his parents he’d study for a test with absolutely zero intention of doing so. I worried for him for a second, then realized I was probably even worse, so I kept my mouth shut. Securing research materials for the kukkoro cause always took priority over everything else.

"Still, Shun, you’re amazing... You know so many niche works."

"Well, obviously. I’ve memorized the Kukkoro Doujinshi Bible. Constant investigation is the duty of anyone who truly loves the craft. It enriches your life a thousand times more than schoolwork ever could."

"You say that, but your grades are actually decent. Except for math. That’s a total disaster."

Kazunari let out an exasperated sigh. I wished he’d stop bringing up math; it made me want to cry.

"Look, let’s stop talking about boring stuff like formulas and geometry. Let’s get back to the kukkoro."

"Changing the subject, huh? Fine, whatever."

He gave me a side-eye but bit the hook. We went right back to exchanging intel on the latest releases.

"So anyway, at the end of that one book—"

"Hey, look over there."

Kazunari cut me off and pointed. I followed his gaze to see a flashy girl about our age being cornered by a group of thugs.

"N-No! Let me go!"

"Heh, heh... We’re just gonna play a little, okay? It’ll be fun. Might even feel good!"

The distance was significant, but their voices carried. It looked like a serious situation; even from here, I could tell she was resisting with everything she had. Passers-by were looking away, too intimidated by the delinquents to intervene.

"Yikes... This neighborhood is usually pretty safe. Guess she just got unlucky..."

"Kazunari, hold my bag. I’m going in."

"Huh? Wait, Shun!"

I dropped my bag and sprinted toward them.

One-versus-many is a classic setup for a female knight’s 'You coward!' line—one of my favorite scenarios—but because I’ve studied the very essence of the kukkoro, I know one thing for certain.

In the real world, a true kukkoro moment simply doesn't happen.

And because I knew that, I couldn't just stand by and watch this pathetic imitation of a tragedy. I wasn't athletic, and I didn't consider myself a particularly righteous person, but I found myself running without a second thought.

I reached them, gasping for air, sliding between the girl and the thugs. The leader glared at me, his face twisting with irritation.

"Huh? Who the hell are you?!"

"Just a passing high schooler who happens to appreciate the kukkoro. She’s clearly uncomfortable, so why don't you back off?"

"Hah? Kukkoro? What are you even babbling about? Besides, we ain't doing nothing wrong. We’re just asking the lady to hang out with us. Right, boys?"

"Gyahaha! Damn straight!"

"It's a fun kind of 'hang out' too!"

Honestly, I was terrified. I’d never been in a fight in my life. Usually, I did my best to stay off the radar from the "alpha" types at school. But seeing the kukkoro being treated with such disrespect sparked a rage that burned through my fear like a blowtorch.

"Don't take the kukkoro lightly, you brainless trash."

"Excuse me?"

The thugs stopped their idiotic snickering. Their expressions hardened. Normally, I would've been shaking from my head to toe, but the anger kept me grounded.

"Listen up. The kukkoro is a sacred treasure that God has permitted all humanity to enjoy. The fact that you don't understand it, proves you’re nothing but monkeys who think with your crotches."

"The hell are you rambling about...!"

Call me a loser. Call me a creepy loner. Call me an idiot who can't do math. I didn't care. But I would not tolerate my life’s passion being dragged through the mud.

"Tch! Get out of the way!"

"Guh—!?"

The leader swung. A sudden, searing heat exploded across my left cheek, and I hit the ground. It took me a second to realize I’d been punched. It was a type of pain I’d never felt in my seventeen years of life.

But I forced myself back up and glared at him.

"Oh? Look at those eyes. Think you’re tough, kid?"

"Heh... heh heh... Ahahahaha!"

Laughter bubbled up in my throat. It hurt like hell and there was absolutely nothing funny about the situation, but I couldn't stop.

"W-Wait... this kid’s a freak..."

"His eyes are totally blown out..."

I didn't care what they whispered. I just let the impulse take over.

"Fail."

"Huh?"

"You fail, Mr. Delinquent."

I stared them down and held up my index finger.

"You think violence is a requirement for the kukkoro? Wrong. Violence is just a spice. It’s a single element used to highlight the core. And this situation? It lacks everything."

A true kukkoro is beautiful because the heroine fights for her beliefs with everything she has, and even in defeat, she remains noble. But this girl was just terrified. This was just a bunch of bullies ganging up on someone. There was no beauty in it. Even if the scenario was similar, this violated the very aesthetics of the kukkoro.

"Learn the beauty of the kukkoro!"

I lunged at them with everything I had. Of course, a guy who’s never fought before isn't going to land a hit. I got absolutely demolished. But I kept coming back, determined to at least get one good lick in.

"Tch! What is wrong with this guy!?"

"Learn... the beauty... of..."

"Shut the hell up! Just die already!"

The guy screamed, and suddenly I felt a heat in my side that made the punch feel like a tickle. I couldn't breathe.

It hurts... I can't... take a breath...

I looked down to see a knife buried in my side. Blood was gushing out, and my legs gave way. As the world started to fade to black, I knew I was dying.

Ah... I’m dying here, huh? Man... I really wanted to see a real kukkoro... just once...

And then, my consciousness flickered out.

◇

When I opened my eyes, I saw an unfamiliar ceiling.

Wait... where am I? Why am I...

My head was foggy. I couldn't remember why I was there, but slowly, the memories trickled back.

Right... I got stabbed by those thugs... Does that mean I’m okay?

If I was, maybe a romantic comedy with the girl I saved was about to start? I tried to check my body, but I realized I couldn't move the way I wanted to. I couldn't get any power into my limbs. My neck felt stiff, and my vision was blurry.

"Jeralt! You're awake!"

Wait. Jeralt? Who the hell is that?

A woman rushed over to me. She looked to be in her twenties, a beauty with soft, wavy brown hair. She had a gentle, airy vibe about her. As a fan of strong-willed women who could pull off a good kukkoro, she wasn't exactly my type, but she was definitely pretty.

I was confused. A woman who clearly wasn't Japanese—and whom I’d never met—was calling me by a name I didn't recognize. What was going on?

"Oh... Jeralt...! You're finally awake. We were so worried when your fever spiked yesterday."

"Indeed, my dear. I'm so glad he’s alright..."

An impeccably dressed, handsome man joined her. He put his hand on her shoulder. They looked like a couple. Lucky bastard.

But if they’d saved me, I needed to thank them.

"Abbu, ba-ba, daaa..."

Wait—!? My voice... it’s not working!?

My tongue barely moved, and the tiny sound that escaped didn't sound like mine at all. What was happening to my body?

"Oh, look at Jeralt. What is it, sweetie?"

"Haha, being energetic is a good sign."

The woman picked me up effortlessly.

Wait... are these two huge!? I’m supposed to be 170 centimeters tall...