Kurihara is the chairman of the board of directors at Hachimitsu Private Academy, a formerly all‑girls boarding school that has recently begun admitting male students. He is a middle‑aged man who carries himself with a dandy, gentlemanly elegance, yet beneath that refined surface lies a markedly eccentric and often absurd personal streak. As the father of Mari and Chiyo Kurihara, he occupies a unique position at the intersection of family and institutional authority.

His personality blends a cultured public persona with a private fixation on adult content, a secret that adds a layer of comedic humanity to his character. Kurihara espouses a progressive outlook on education and gender, believing that the academy should modernize and welcome male students. This idealistic vision puts him in direct conflict with the deeply conservative traditions of the school’s old guard and, most acutely, with his elder daughter Mari, who leads the Underground Student Council and fiercely opposes the presence of boys on campus.

His primary motivation is to guide the academy into a more inclusive era, even at the cost of personal and familial friction. He often finds himself championing change while navigating the political minefield of faculty resistance and his daughter’s unwavering traditionalism. Despite the high‑mindedness of his goals, his private obsessions frequently undercut his dignity, creating moments where his gentlemanly composure collapses into ridiculous or lewd behavior.

Within the story, Chairman Kurihara serves as both a beleaguered administrator and an unlikely source of comic relief. His progressive policies set the stage for the central conflict: the imprisonment and persecution of the five male students by Mari’s Underground Student Council. As the series progresses, he becomes ever more entangled in the power struggles between the pro‑reform and anti‑male factions, forced to confront the fallout of his own decisions and the widening rift with his daughter.

Kurihara’s key relationship is with Mari, whose cold, calculating authoritarianism forms a stark contrast to his liberal ideals. Their dynamic encapsulates a generational and ideological clash that drives much of the interpersonal drama. He also faces constant pushback from conservative faculty members, who see his reforms as an assault on the school’s heritage. On the other hand, his softer interactions with his younger daughter Chiyo and his awkward but genuine rapport with some of the troubled boys occasionally reveal a more compassionate side.

Though he possesses no supernatural powers or combat skills, his notable abilities lie in his sharp intellect and political maneuvering. He uses charm, rhetoric, and an unorthodox willingness to bend norms to influence school policy and mediate between warring factions. An iconic moment captures his philosophy when, during a tense argument over the admission of boys, he declares, “Progress is not something to fear, but to embrace.” This line reflects both his determination and the idealistic core that coexists with his all‑too‑human flaws. Over time, his secret interests and his struggle to reconcile public duty with private desires expose a vulnerable, conflicted figure who embodies the tension between tradition and change in the exaggerated world of Hachimitsu Private Academy.