Their latest series, NinKoro, might initially seem like an outlier due to its lack of typical aesthetic maximalism and sensory overload. However, it functions on the same principles as their earlier works, drawing from genre characteristics, clichés, tropes, and specific directorial techniques. The difference lies in how the anime synthesizes them: instead of fragmented stylistic bursts, it integrates these elements organically through a "slow burn" approach. As for the concept: The clash between form and content has perhaps never been more acute.
The "Under One Roof" trope has evolved from a cheap romance cliché into a fascinating subgenre over the last two decades. Whether the contrast between the characters' worlds is literal (Miss Kobayashi's Dragon Maid) or metaphorical (Hinamatsuri), the focus remains on their shared existence as an unusual duo. Its popularity comes from its versatility: it blends seamlessly with the "healing" iyashikei vibe, draws humor from the casual-absurd contrast, and facilitates "found family" dynamics, character growth or even romance through forced proximity. Of course, it also carries the inevitable weight of wish-fulfillment and self-insertion...
NinKoro exploits every facet of this subgenre. The story follows the near-harmonious daily lives of a unique pair: Konoha, the assassin, and Satoko, the runaway ninja. They navigate the "idyll" of cohabitation, whether it’s perfecting an omelet, liquidating clan members, murdering random citizens for a lot of money - every day is a new adventure. Their symbiosis is total: Konoha does the dirty work, while Satoko acts as the crime scene cleaner, using her ninjutsu to turn non-living matter into leaves. If this is their routine, why couldn't it be slice of life? Why couldn't it be CGDCT? Don't forget how the show starts: in a dark, traditional ninja chase, Satoko is an absurd outlier. While her pursuers wear classic black uniform (they are actual ninjas), she practically glows in purple and orange with an unpractically long scarf, barely surviving the prologue through sheer clumsiness. The message is clear: Satoko doesn't belong in the shadows of the ninja world, but in the pastel-colored world of moe and CGDCT. Well, the "things" they do aren't always cute, but at least the killing happens off-screen.
The essence of the show lies in this conscious, ironic incompatibility, served with devastating black humor. When a vengeful rival recites a grand shounen monologue from a script, Konoha simply stabs him mid-sentence—we’ve heard it all before.
NinKoro uses aesthetics as a weapon with surgical precision. Occasionally, however, the candy-coated design gives way to dark tones and heavy silence, where brutality is no longer masked by comedy. In these moments, the anime shows its teeth, leaving a lingering "this is not right" sensation that makes it harder (though not impossible) to laugh at the next joke.
This raises a fundamental question: What defines a story - the sequence of events or presentation? While most viewers focus on plot, NinKoro gives an obvious answer: the "how" is what matters. It functions as a soothing iyashikei simply because it adheres to the aesthetic and dramaturgical forms of one. The "found family" and yuri-bait work despite a total lack of genuine chemistry. Many other anime have done this, NinKoro is just the first to play with its cards face up.
To understand what NinKoro is deconstructing, we must look at 2021’s famous "under one roof" anime, Hige wo Soru (HigeHiro). In many ways, it is a "synthesis" of how NOT to handle the subgenre. The only "true" thing in it is the title: After Being Rejected, I Shaved and Took in a High School Runaway. HigeHiro uses narrative framing, genre tropes to sanitize a crime. It presents a middle-aged man, unable to find a partner in his own social sphere, who secretly harbors a minor. The narrative, music, and genre tropes are all weaponized to manipulate the viewer into seeing this as a wholesome "savior" story. It reinforces incel gender roles: the girl is extremely vulnerable at many levels - emotionally, financially, she's 17 etc. - allowing the working man to indulge in a protector/breadwinner fantasy. She performs emotional laboring, cooking and cleaning to soothe him after a long day. The story demands we view the protagonist as a moral hero simply because he refuses to sleep with her when she asks — an irony that actually only serves to highlight his ego and total dominance.
NinKoro takes this exact dynamic but strips away all ambiguity, resulting in comedy / satire (note: Konoha is a female so she fits CGDCT, but it doesn't change anything regarding their relationship). In HigeHiro, the "cute" and "wholesome" atmosphere can trick the viewer into ignoring the crime. In NinKoro, however, everyone knows that murder is a crime; the cute mask can no longer fully hide the reality. It forces the viewer to recognize that they are consuming something inherently wrong. As for gender roles: just like the heroine in HigeHiro, Satoko is fleeing her "family" environment (the ninja clan), becoming utterly helpless in the modern world. The financially stable but burnt-out Konoha takes her in, and Satoko immediately fills the submissive role. She disposes of the trash bags, prepares dinner, and supports Konoha as a "right hand" in the business. Her provider's needs always take precedence. Anyone searching for the missing girl is framed as an "enemy" to be eliminated, exactly like the narrative structure of HigeHiro.
Where HigeHiro-like atrocities hide the objectification of women, NinKoro magnifies and exposes it. If their daily interactions weren't clear enough, consider Episode 5: when an antagonist sends a robot double of Satoko into the apartment, the tension isn't about the risk of being caught. Instead, it leads to a much more painful realization: Konoha doesn't even notice the switch. In fact, she is happier with the robot because it satisfies her needs more efficiently. The show dedicates an entire episode to the functional dehumanization that waifu culture represents.. (While Konoha's and Satoko's relationship eventually does evolve, it is due to a narrative trick I won't spoil here.)
If NinKoro makes you feel uneasy because you’ve caught yourself perceiving something repulsive as "heartwarming," then the story has succeeded. It asks: how much moral bankruptcy can be shoved down a consumer's throat if it's wrapped in a gift box? According to the ending: any amount. Our only defence is media literacy - something that NinKoro teaches us brilliantly.
It is often said that art should not cater to the audience's desires, "good art disturbs the peace" and so on. Well, NinKoro does both at the same time.
