Reiwa-Era "New Kawaii": How FRUITS ZIPPER Went Viral

FRUITS ZIPPER didn't rise on the miracle of one song appearing out of nowhere. It began when Asobisystem, a company rooted in Harajuku culture, launched a project called KAWAII LAB. and built a system for raising new idols from it.

The seven-member group, which started up in February 2022, used a short phrase, "from Harajuku to the world," to show where it came from and where it was headed in one breath. The brand was defined not as a guardian of the existing idea of cute but as a place that affirms a range of personalities.

For fans, this declaration isn't a slogan that pushes one taste on them; it's a door they can walk through with their own favorite colors and clothes. Before copying the photos or the choreography, people feel they're allowed to show their own kind of cuteness here, so even someone seeing the group for the first time isn't left outside the culture. Even the time spent deciding what to wear to a show, or the words used to recommend a song to a friend, become small ways of taking part in the brand.

For the organizers, there is still work to do: recreating the Harajuku starting point through costumes alone won't do, so the songs, social media and the language used at shows all have to be tied to one set of values. Feeling the same promise whichever touchpoint you enter through is what turns a buzzword into a brand. Even overseas, if the group can explain the meaning of affirming who you are, rather than exporting only visual signs, "from Harajuku to the world" stops being a copy of a place name.

"NEW KAWAII", the concept put forward by producer Misa Kimura, doesn't point only to pink and frills. It was broadened to include choosing your own favorite clothes, forms of expression and way of living, so that fans can take part in their own words.

The members include people with prior experience and people who chose to try again, each carrying their own past as they aim for their dreams once more, and that shows the culture of KAWAII LAB. in concrete form. Fans can watch not just the finished picture but the next stage of growth alongside them.

What supporters want to find out is whether "individuality" shows up only in the introductory copy, or whether each member is treated as a distinct charm through song parts, costumes and talk. The more the group shows weak points and detours instead of erasing them, the more one member's experience connects with a fan's own memories. Even while you can't settle on a single oshi, you can enjoy it as time spent learning each member's strong moments, without rushing to compare.

Companies that adopt the same thinking can't just talk about diversity after pulling everyone into the same mold. They need to offer a range of expression members can choose for themselves, and to check whether the order of introductions and the amount of exposure lean toward some members, so that the message matches how things are run. Not applying one successful member's presentation to everyone else, and having profiles and projects members can update in their own words, also supports a long story of growth.

Songwriter Sho Yamamoto had a "two-stage chorus" in mind, splitting the chorus into a first half and a second half of about 15 seconds each. That wasn't a matter of cutting the song down for advertising; it was a design that wove into the song's structure the ways users would dance, imitate it and layer it onto other videos.

The lyrics, too, flip from an idol declaring one-sidedly "I'm cute" to affirming the fans who discover the cuteness. When the act of supporting carries meaning inside the song, viewers can move from audience to participants who help create the charm.

Even the chorus alone makes the breaks in the movement and the moments for expression clear, so people who can't dance perfectly can pick out just the parts they like. Instead of a contest of skill, there are several ways to play: filming with a friend, matching the color of your outfit, choosing your oshi's part. The more it allows for distances such as not showing your face or just watching, the less it becomes a culture only for those who post.

The side delivering the song should look beyond the number of posts to whether there are first-time posters, which parts were used, and whether people later moved on to the full version or a show. Treating the short video not as an end point but as the start of a path to the recording, the member introductions and appearance information creates the next round of support. If the background of the lyrics and the intent of the production sit alongside the dance videos, even people who don't dance get a route to knowing the song more deeply.

On the production side, they are said to value not only singing and dancing but also striving toward goals and gratitude for the people around them, and to believe activities should continue while protecting the members' minds and bodies.

For fans to support a group with peace of mind, they also need to feel that their purchases and sharing aren't propping up an unreasonable working environment. Operations that protect the talent are the foundation of a fandom that lasts.

Whether performances get canceled is not the only thing fans can judge by. Whether people blame the group for schedule changes, whether the group as a whole can carry a show when someone is absent, and whether there is an explanation that doesn't rush a return all show whether the stated commitment to health has become an actual system. Fans can take part in that system too, by holding back from excessive speculation about an absence and waiting for the official explanation.

Organizers need a perspective that doesn't depend on members' own effort, and that sets up, in ordinary times, a place to consult, ways of running shows that someone else can cover, and enough preparation time. Sharing these protections, within what can be explained, instead of keeping them backstage, also lets fans choose their own pace of support. The prospect of being able to see the group for a long time is itself a reason to support them, separate from short-term exposure.

After the success of FRUITS ZIPPER, later groups such as CANDY TUNE, SWEET STEADY and CUTIE STREET appeared, and the way in widened from one group to KAWAII LAB. as a whole. Joint events and social media let fans discover other groups, so they can support the whole label, not just one group. The design doesn't use up popularity in one go and lets people move between several stories.

Hako-oshi, supporting the whole label or all its groups, doesn't mean spending the same amount on every group. What brings peace of mind is being able to adjust how deep your interest goes: finding a song you like at a joint stage, learning the name through an official video, and next choosing a solo show.

Rather than copying the earlier group's mold, the business side needs to keep each later group's music, way of speaking and way of participating distinct, and hand over only the shared values. More doors don't help if people can't tell the differences, so guiding fans between groups and preserving each group's uniqueness have to be designed together. If a joint project is followed by guidance to each group's signature songs and next schedule, the earlier group's name recognition can be passed on properly to the later groups.

To check the growth of the whole label, look beyond the response to joint posts: were the songs of a group people first heard of there listened to later, and did conversation continue around the group's own posts? If the guidance adds new tastes instead of asking fans of the earlier group to move, attachment to one group is never set against interest in the label. When it comes across that a new door is not a signal to leave your original oshi, fans can wander around inside the label with peace of mind.

It also matters that the official side takes up words fans came up with, like "Naa ni naa ni?", a kind of reverse import. Instead of the official side deciding everything, it picks up culture born in the community, so the traces of fans' support become part of the brand.

Someone who learned the song from a short video listens to the full version, follows the members' stories, and meets another group at a joint stage. When a next choice is waiting at each door, a single moment of buzz turns into a relationship that lets people walk through the whole label. Fans being able to widen the places they belong at their own speed also makes the business more sustainable.

If we boil this case down to one measure, it is neither the short chorus nor the joint event, but the editing that hands the expression fans gave back on to the next door. When the promise that you can bring your own cuteness, the stories that let you follow the members and the paths to other groups are connected, the traces of taking part remain as the culture's growth.