The word “kawaii” has always felt distant to Osamu Sato. It is not a word he uses easily.

Looking back, he realizes he has used it only a handful of times in his life. When he sees cats or dogs, what arises within him is closer to fear than affection. Things that are supposed to be soft and lovable somehow evoke unease.

“Perhaps something is missing in me,” he once thought. But as he reflects more deeply, another shape begins to emerge.

Color combinations, characters, compositional balance, line, typography — the structure of “kawaii” embedded within design itself. That structure certainly exists within him.

For Sato, “kawaii” is not sweetness, but constructed beauty. Not emotion, but precision of design.

To deliberately pull this structure into the light — that very act may itself be a form of “kawaii.”