Kaoru Gojō, an elderly master hina doll craftsman with short white hair, light stubble, and observant black eyes behind glasses, carries himself with the quiet authority of decades spent refining his art. Clad in a samue work outfit, his slightly hunched frame—shorter than his grandson Wakana, whom he raised after tragedy—belies the vigor of a man devoted to tradition. For over 48 years, his workshop has been a sanctuary of meticulous craft, where he upholds a strict philosophy: daily practice is sacrosanct, as skipping even a single day demands three to reclaim lost skill.

He nurtured Wakana’s talent early, guiding his hands and igniting his passion for doll-making. Though supportive, his grandfatherly instincts sometimes faltered against Wakana’s teenage mysteries—misinterpreting video games or cosmetic purchases as mere youthful restlessness rather than steps toward cosplay. A comedic yet heartfelt misunderstanding with Marin Kitagawa, culminating in a strained back and a sheepish apology, highlighted his protective yet open-hearted nature.

His initial wariness toward Marin softens into paternal concern, prompting him to coax her into shared meals to counter her haphazard eating habits. Similarly, he shelters Sajuna Inui from the rain, urging Wakana to host her despite their unfamiliarity, his hospitality transcending tradition.

Steadfast yet adaptable, Kaoru anchors Wakana’s life, quietly championing his growth as both artisan and individual. He discerns how Wakana’s cosplay ventures unexpectedly sharpen his craftsmanship, bridging generations by valuing innovation within heritage—a testament to a mentor’s wisdom, ever rooted in discipline but unafraid of evolution.