Kyosuke Hori, father to Kyouko and Souta and husband to Yuriko, navigates parenthood amidst frequent work absences that strain his ties with his children, who perceive him as brash, self-centered, and prone to ill-timed humor. Balancing these tensions, he reveals a mischievous streak, playfully teasing those around him—particularly Izumi Miyamura, whose bond with Kyouko he enthusiastically champions. Standing tall with unkempt silver-gray hair cascading to his shoulders, Kyosuke’s weary golden-brown eyes and slouched posture reflect his perpetual exhaustion. His OVA depiction alters this slightly, rendering his eyes hollow and black. Souta mirrors his father’s hair color, while Kyouko inherits Yuriko’s darker locks and Kyosuke’s sharp gaze. His demeanor oscillates between lethargic detachment and sudden bursts of energy, especially when Miyamura visits, sparking abrupt shifts from fatigue to cheer. Frugal and rule-defiant, he dismisses lavish family requests and casually flouts norms like indoor smoking. Yet beneath these quirks lies genuine care, evident in his prioritization of Miyamura’s inclusion, even sidelining Kyouko during holidays to foster their connection. Kyosuke’s past with Yuriko, forged in high school, mirrors his daughter’s dynamic with Miyamura. Yuriko’s boldness complemented his reserved nature, her assertiveness shielding him from conflicts—a dynamic echoing Kyouko’s protective role toward Miyamura. This generational parallel underscores familial patterns of loyalty and balance. Though often physically absent, Kyosuke injects levity into household tensions through comedic evasion, particularly when dodging Kyouko’s ire. His fondness for Miyamura manifests in relentless teasing and efforts to weave him into family affairs, cementing his role in their chaotic yet warm home life. Expanded later portrayals delve into Kyosuke’s youth, highlighting his protective instincts and the earnest, clumsy origins of his romance with Yuriko. These glimpses frame him as an imperfect yet devoted figure whose choices—and absences—subtly shape his children’s self-reliance and relational paths.