In shōnen anime, particularly the high school delinquent subgenre, masculinity is often defined in terms of physical displays of strength, suppression of emotions, and a strict adherence to traditional gender roles and cisheterosexual frameworks. Adapted from Satoru Nii’s manga of the same name, Wind Breaker (CloverWorks, 2024 – present) has recently garnered praise for offering a compelling corrective to the persistence of these tropes by foregrounding characters who model alternative embodiments of male strength (Colbert 2025). The show focuses on Bofurin, an all-male high school group who fight rival street gangs in order to protect the peace of their community. Among its members, Tsubakino Tasuku stands out as a productive case study in redefining the narrative and aesthetic conventions of shōnen through nuanced and sensitive queer representation.

Tsubakino offers a rare alternative to the traditional vision of masculine grit depicted in most shōnen. As one of Bofurin’s “Four Kings,” the faction’s upper echelon leadership, he has proven his worth as a formidable brawler. However, the key to power is not physical prowess, but understanding and embracing his queer identity. Tsubaki-chan, as he prefers to be called, identifies as male but favors feminine fashion and embraces feminine affect. He is a proficient pole dancer who fights in heels and feels stronger when he wears makeup. He is physically tough and capable, but also affectionate and sensitive. His crush on another Bofurin boy is publicly acknowledged and accepted, albeit not reciprocated.

In a typical shōnen anime, an openly queer, gender non-conforming character like him might be framed as the odd one out or, even worse, treated as a punchline. This is not the case in Wind Breaker. He is not only fully integrated, but deeply respected and treasured, within his school delinquent group. His standing as a pillar of Bofurin, a mentor to younger recruits, and a protector of the more vulnerable members of the larger urban community is due not only to his combat skills, but also his emotional intelligence, capacity for empathy and vulnerability, and open-mindedness. As his arc throughout the second season demonstrates, it is his journey towards self-acceptance and the confidence to live authentically that have laid the foundations for a deeper, more meaningful form of personal strength he can draw on, both in social situations and in decisive battles. When Tsubaki-chan triumphs in a fight, it is not through aggression or emotional distance from the opponent, but rather through unwavering self-assurance and openness to dialogue.

 Therein lies the quietly revolutionary message at the heart of Wind Breaker’s take on adolescent male power fantasies: it depicts physical toughness and emotional bravery as not only equally valuable, but necessarily complementary. Instead of disavowing shōnen masculinity entirely, it adds complexity and nuance to the genre’s defining characteristics by affirming queer resilience and queer joy as central to a healthier, more inclusive masculine ethos. In doing so, it offers a model of brotherhood as a safe space built on mutual appreciation, support, and celebration of difference.

Given anime’s ongoing issues with stereotypical depictions of the LGBTQIA+ community and frequent queerbaiting, Wind Breaker stands out by charting a path for storytelling that draws on the beauty and complexity of queer identities without tokenizing queer characters or relegating queer desire to subtext. In the context of shōnen in particular, where male vulnerability is often treated as a liability or a temporary obstacle to overcome, Tsubaki-chan’s unapologetic authenticity becomes a radical gesture of rewriting genre conventions from within.

References

Colbert, Isaiah. 2025. “This Shonen Anime Fights Toxic Masculinity.” Aftermath, May 19. https://aftermath.site/wind-breaker-shonen-anime-toxic-masculinity.