
Huh—there was one I didn’t know.
In the sake aisle at a supermarket not far from Ozone, I spotted a small bottle from Kintora I’d never seen before.
“Namachōzō.”
(A style where the sake is stored unpasteurized and then pasteurized only once before shipping—fresh, crisp, and lively.)
A clear bottle with a white label. On it, a tiger drawn in bold brush strokes.
That tiger, glaring. That strength—I fell for it on sight.
I thought I knew pretty much all of Kintora’s lineup. Wrong. “Only this store carries it.” Turns out there are still plenty of bottles like that.
The world is big. Ozone is surprisingly big, too. I got lazy and lost this round.
Of course I dropped one in my basket and took it home.
Dead Center, Classic Sake

I took a long look at the label again.
That quintessentially “sake-ish,” powerful Kintora design—I love it.
I’m weak to this kind of right-down-the-middle appeal.
I popped the cap. A rounded, rice-rich aroma—kept nicely in check—rose up.

I poured a glass.
A faint yellow tint showed up—the kind you often see in seriously tasty sake.
That color—the comforting kind. Expectations rising.

One sip. Gulp.
In kikisake-shi terms, this lands in the sōshu (light & refreshing) category. Very bright and fresh, yet the finish brings a solid rice umami.
The entrance is feather-light and easy to approach, but by the time you head for the exit, you’re already charmed by a truly full-on flavor.
I fell for Kintora’s Namachōzō in an instant.
In My Head: A Summer Port Town Starts Playing

My mind jumped straight to a summer port town.
The sun is strong, but a cool sea breeze blows, and the sound of the waves stays gentle forever.
Cicadas chirp. I pull a clear little bottle from the fridge—Kintora’s Namachōzō.
I take a gulp. Enjoy the refreshing taste. Look up at the sky—seagulls gliding.
That’s the scene my imagination projected for me—
(BGM request: Southern All Stars, “TSUNAMI.”)
A Small Shout: Isn’t This the Source?

“Maybe this is what the ‘source’ of Kintora tastes like.”
When you say Kintora, most people think of the Junmai, Honmaru-Goten, or the Nagoya Castle labels.
But those feel like they’re made for the connoisseurs—the people who chase extremes. You know, cranking the aroma and flavor parameters to the max to make aficionados purr.
But maybe—just maybe—there’s a “The Kintora” out there that sits smack in the middle on both aroma and flavor—the thing you never get tired of, even if you drink it every day.
There has to be such a thing as “everyday wear—ultimate edition.” I’m sure of it.
That Thing Again: The Unshowy-Is-Strongest Theory (a.k.a. the “Jōsen Law”)

Take the big names—Gekkeikan, Sho Chiku Bai, Hakutsuru—their top sellers are often the old, unflashy bottles labeled “Jōsen” (“upper-selected,” a traditional quality tier).
Those “plain” bottles can be shockingly easy to drink yet satisfyingly flavorful. And since they sell, they’re affordable.
Plain ≠ weak.
In daily life, plain = unstoppable.
The Duty of Ozone Citizens: Go Hunt for “The Kintora”
So… does “The Kintora” actually exist?
As a card-carrying citizen of Ozone, I think we’ve got a mystery to solve.
—Investigation, commence.
Next up: search. Drink. Drink. Drink. (lol)
Please look forward to my report!