I wanted to share some thoughts on what I feel is a common pattern in Japanese fiction, particularly TV drama. These thoughts are largely spurred by two popular shows that, at their essence, feature the same archetypal character.
The Annoying But Unfireable Detective
The new drama season started in Japan in October. This new season brought the return of one of Japan’s longest-lived series: Aibou (相棒), or Partners. The current season marks the show’s 18th outing.
The show focuses on a detective, Sugishita Ukyou (杉下右京; actor: Mizutani Yutaka – 水谷豊), who’s assigned to the “Special Assignment Unit” (特命係; tokumei gakari) Actually, Sugishita is the Special Assignment Unit. It’s a type of assignment referred to as 窓際 (madogiwa), or “window-side” assignment – a sidelined position with no responsibilities meant to keep older workers or troublemakers out of everyone’s hair until they voluntarily decide to leave.
However, Sugishita is anything but sidelined. Having no core responsibilities, in fact, only seems to embolden him. He constantly butts into investigations led by Section 1 (major crimes), discovering clues that upend the initial suspicions of section detectives.
[ppp_patron_only level=”1″]
Over the years, Sugishita has worked with a rotating list of partners (hence the show’s title). But the focus remains on Sugishita – a pain-in-the-ass genius who most of the police department’s top brass wishes would just disappear. His laser focus on doing the right thing, regardless of the political consequences, has earned him a score of enemies. Indeed, in the opening episode of Season 18, Sugishita has been missing for a week, and top officers are wondering when they can safely declare them “Absent Without Leave” and fire him. Deputy Commissioner Kinugasa declares, “He’s a zombie. The only way to get rid of him is a fatal blow to the head.”

The Brilliant But Irascible Surgeon
Sugishita isn’t the only popular lone wolf in J-drama. Another standout example is the show Doctor-X. (Ironically, Doctor-X is produced by TV Asahi, which also makes Aibou.) Doctor-X is the story of freelance surgeon Daimon Michiko (大門未知子; actor: Yonekura Kyouko – 米倉京子). Daimon’s sole focus is performing amazing surgeries that few others in the world can execute. She and her business manager make hospitals sign a contract stating she won’t do anything that doesn’t require a medical license. (That extends from writing research papers on down to “playing golf” and “covering up people’s affairs.”) She prides herself on never making an error: her motto is 「私、失敗しないので」(watashi, shippai shinai node), or “I never fail.”
Planning a trip to Japan? Get an authentic, interpreted experience from Unseen Japan Tours and see a side of the country others miss!

"Noah [at Unseen Japan] put together an itinerary that didn’t lock us in and we could travel at our own pace. In Tokyo, he guided us personally on a walking tour. Overall, he made our Japan trip an experience not to forget." - Kate and Simon S., Australia


We hate paywalls. Our content remains both free and fiercely independent. If you love the values we stand for and want to help us expand our coverage of Japan, consider a recurring or one-time donation to the Unseen Japan Journalism Fund today.

(Trivia aside: Daimon’s character is reputedly based on Japanese Judo star and Olympic gold medalist Matsumoto Kaori (松本薫), whose motto was “I never miss” 「 私、ミスはしないので 」.)
In the series, Daimon’s work centers around various hospitals belonging to the fictional Teito chain. The relationship is, nominally, symbiotic. Daimon uses the higher fees she can charge as a consulting surgeon to pay off her deceased father’s debt. The hospital, meanwhile, can supplement its short-handed full-time staff with a skilled doctor who finishes surgeries at dazzling speeds.
In reality, the relationship between Daimon and Teito is much more fraught and complicated. Daimon remains a free agent, not just because the money is good, but because she hates the bullshit that accompanies being a full-time employee. She uses her freedom to call out missed diagnoses, corruption, and naked ass-kissing whenever she sees it. This often puts her at loggerheads with not just the hospital’s chief of surgery, but a majority of the staff. In any given season, Daimon is likely to get fired two to three times. But like Sugishita, Daimon always rises again, like some sort of surgical zombie.
Daimon’s existence may be a pain in the ass for Teito, but it’s also a convenience. Since she’s a consultant, the hospital can assign her risky surgeries no one else would dare touch. If she fails, they can pin it on the “lone wolf” doctor. If she succeeds, they can publish the result in medical journals and take all the credit.
Doing Your Job (Even if You Don’t Get The Credit)
A ton of dramas in Japan last a single season. Only a handful extend their runs over multiple years. Aibou and Doctor-X are examples of the latter. Doctor-X premiered in 2013 and is on its sixth season. And Aibou is still chugging along after 18 years. Season 9 saw ratings for some episodes bust over 20% – a rare feat for Japanese dramas. The shows have even influenced Japanese culture more broadly. According to President JP, for example, Doctor-X is responsible for raising public awareness of – and appreciation for – freelance physicians.
On the surface, the show’s lead characters are somewhat different. Sugishita Ukyo is polite in a very Japan-by-way-of-England way. He has 20 different ways to tell you, with a slight smile and impeccable keigo, what a fucking idiot you are. Daimon Michiko, by contrast, is blunt and brusk. She won’t even shake your hand, because that “doesn’t require a medical license.”
But both characters are, at their cores, very similar. Both work for organizations that care far more about their self-preservation than about the public they serve. At Sugishita’s Metropolitan Police Department, top brass obsesses over, not just public perception, but political fallout. They’re quick to shut down any case that might ensnare a powerful political figure.
Planning a trip to Japan? Get an authentic, interpreted experience from Unseen Japan Tours and see a side of the country others miss!

"Noah [at Unseen Japan] put together an itinerary that didn’t lock us in and we could travel at our own pace. In Tokyo, he guided us personally on a walking tour. Overall, he made our Japan trip an experience not to forget." - Kate and Simon S., Australia


We hate paywalls. Our content remains both free and fiercely independent. If you love the values we stand for and want to help us expand our coverage of Japan, consider a recurring or one-time donation to the Unseen Japan Journalism Fund today.
Meanwhile, Daimon’s Teito is a festering wound of rank toadyism and criminal corruption. Hospital higher-ups frequently take kickbacks from wealthy patients for priority treatment. Medical decisions are made, not in the patient’s best interest, but in the hospital’s.
Both Sugishita and Daimon act as moral counterweights to this corruption. Both fight for the right decision. And they do so regardless of what it might cost them. Daimon, for example, is paid handsomely for her surgeries. But most of that money goes towards paying off her dad’s debts. At the end of Season 2, she even turns down a million-dollar staff position at Teito. Daimon’s focus isn’t on money, but on advancing the surgical procedure that will provide the best possible outcome for her patients. Daimon rarely gets any credit for her accomplishments. Indeed, a recurring theme in the show is how a hapless staff doctor, Ebina, always ends up receiving credit for Daimon’s successes.
Both Sugishita and Daimon stay employed thanks to friends (or at least temporary allies) in powerful places. Both often piss off even their closest allies in the pursuit of their singular-minded goals. And both do so with the only reward being that they get to come to work the next day. Both are content to remain invisible to the larger world, so long as they can continue to do what they love.
Sugishita and Daimon aren’t the only instances of the selfless lone wolf in Japanese fiction. The stories of novelist Ikeido Jun (池井戸潤), who writes fiction about malfeasance in the financial services industry, all feature similar protagonists, such as Hanzawa Naoki (半沢直樹) and Hanasaki Mai (花咲舞) who find themselves, not only not recognized for their work, but demoted or shipped off to far-flung satellite offices as punishment.

There are negative and positive ways to view this archetype. One is as a form of social conditioning. Just shut up and do your job and don’t expect any credit, these shows tell us soothingly. Your virtue – not, say, fair pay, fair treatment, or adequate time off – is your reward.
But the selfless lone wolf is also a coping strategy. Sugishita Ukyo and Daimon Michiko act the way most of us want to act at work. They take risks that most of us who are concerned about how we’d support our families if we lost our jobs never dare take.
The selfless lone wolf is also an ideal. It makes us ask ourselves: Why are our societies and structures like this? In what ways have we lost focus on serving others because we’re too busy looking out for ourselves? What if we all tackled our jobs with the fearless of a Sugishita, or a Daimon? How might our societies change as a result?
[/ppp_patron_only]