Crime Is Wrong. So, Why Are We Drawn to It?
- Iris Kuraki
- Apr 30
- 4 min read
What BUTTER and Akeboshi Reveal About Us
In recent years, Japanese novels have been traveling far beyond Japan, translated, shared, and widely read across the world.
Works like:
Convenience Store Woman by Sayaka Murata
BUTTER by Asako Yuzuki
The Night of Baba Yaga by Akira Otani
There’s a clear pattern: stories written by women, about women, are resonating globally.
When I scroll through Pinterest, I often notice the English cover of BUTTER.
Another frequently seen title is Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi, a novel often described as “healing fiction.”
These stories offer comfort: characters struggling with heartbreak, loneliness, or life itself slowly find emotional recovery through small, meaningful connections.
But today, I want to talk about something very different.
Something darker.
When Real Crimes Become Fiction
BUTTER (2020) is inspired by the real-life case of Kanae Kijima, who was sentenced to death after the murders of three men.
On the surface, it’s a novel about food and gender.
But underneath, it’s a sharp, darkly humorous exploration of:
loneliness
beauty standards (lookism)
and the silent pressures placed on women
Its international popularity (especially in the UK) may come from this contrast: a story confronting misogyny and fatphobia emerging from a society where those issues often feel normalized.
Fiction That Feels Uncomfortably Real
Now consider Akeboshi (2025).
It begins with the stabbing of a government minister at a public ceremony, and unfolds into a story about the struggles of someone raised in a religious household.
If that premise feels familiar, it should.
It echoes the 2022 assassination of Shinzo Abe.
The attacker, Tetsuya Yamagami, reportedly suffered for years financially and emotionally as a second-generation member of a religious organization.
Fiction doesn’t always invent darkness.
Sometimes, it reflects it.
Why Are We Drawn to Stories Like This?
“Truth is stranger than fiction.”
We say this often, but we rarely sit with what it means.
Reality is chaotic.
Cruel.
Complicated.
We can learn about crimes through:
nonfiction books
investigative journalism
interviews with offenders
So why do we turn to fiction instead?
Why are we drawn to stories inspired by real murders?
It’s Not Just About Crime. It’s About People
Maybe the real answer is this:
We’re not fascinated by crime.
We’re fascinated by criminals.
There’s even a term for extreme cases, hybristophilia, sometimes called the “Bonnie and Clyde syndrome.”
It describes people who feel attraction toward criminals.
But that’s not most of us.
For most people, the interest is simpler, and more human.
We want to understand:
Who they were
How they grew up
What led them there
Not to justify.
But to comprehend.
Fiction as a Safe Distance
Fiction creates a kind of emotional buffer.
It allows us to engage with disturbing realities, without being overwhelmed by them.
And through that distance, we can reflect on deeper themes.
BUTTER: feminism and lookism
Akeboshi: the struggles of religious second-generation individuals
When real events and social issues intersect, the story becomes more powerful and more visible.
Why We Keep Watching Crime Stories
Not all crime fiction is this introspective.
There are countless forms:
mystery novels
detective stories
crime dramas
investigative series
This is also the genre I’m drawn to.
Especially in crime dramas overseas, episodes inspired by real cases are incredibly common.
And they rarely stop at the crime itself.
They explore:
racism
LGBTQ+ issues
immigration
poverty
politics
abuse
education
bullying
Real-world problems woven into narrative.
The Truth: We’re Not Here for the Violence
Watching real news about crime is painful.
And most people who enjoy crime fiction aren’t looking to see someone die.
But here’s the paradox:
A story often doesn’t begin until something goes wrong.
A disappearance.
A murder.
A crime.
Some people even avoid the most violent scenes entirely.
Because what truly draws us in isn’t the crime itself. It’s everything around it:
investigation
puzzle-solving
justice
human psychology
science
It’s the intellectual satisfaction of understanding.
A Story I Wrote From That Perspective
That’s exactly what I aimed to capture in my own novella, Whoever Fights This Man.
It focuses on the intellectual pleasure of solving mysteries while exploring social issues.
It’s a cozy mystery where a university student studying criminal psychology becomes involved in uncovering the truth behind a case.
Synopsis:
Ava, a junior at Doka University, expected the new quarter to be as simple as the last quarter. The only new thing was that the university was offering a course called Criminal Psychology. Luckily, she got an opportunity to attend the lectures with her friends. However, everything changed when one of the students, Isabella, was found in a marsh. The local police struggled with the investigation, so the FBI agents Stone and Turner took over the case on behalf of the police. The first thing the FBI had eyes on to investigate was the Criminal Psychology course.
Character Introduction:
I'm Ava! This year, I started taking a criminal psychology course with Chloe and Owen. In that class, I met a very attractive guy, Joshua. But I haven’t told my boyfriend, Luke, about him... not yet. Actually, I haven’t even talked to Luke much lately. Then something terrible happened—one of our fellow students was found dead. I saw FBI agents on campus investigating her case. We study criminal psychology in class... but does it really work in real life?
What Comes Next
My next work will be a YA psychological thriller centered on:
beauty
female friendship
and the versions of ourselves reflected on social media
Because in the end, what we’re really trying to understand through stories isn’t crime.
It’s people.
This blog was originally posted on note in Japanese. The link is below:
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