Western storytelling has a formula: introduce a hero, give them a problem, make it worse, then resolve it through struggle.
Conflict is everything. Heroes need villains. Protagonists need obstacles. Stories need tension.
But what if there’s another way?
What if you could tell a compelling story with zero conflict, no antagonist, and no struggle—and still keep your audience completely engaged?
Welcome to kishotenketsu (起承転結), the East Asian narrative structure that’s been creating beautiful stories for over a thousand years without relying on conflict at all.
What Is Kishotenketsu?
Kishotenketsu is a four-part narrative structure used extensively in Chinese, Korean, and Japanese storytelling—from classical poetry to manga to Studio Ghibli films.
The four parts:
-
起 (Ki) - Introduction
- Establish the setting, characters, and context
-
承 (Shō) - Development
- Develop the situation introduced in Part 1, add details and depth
-
転 (Ten) - Twist
- Introduce something new, unexpected, or unrelated that reframes everything
-
結 (Ketsu) - Conclusion
- Reconcile the twist with the earlier elements, bringing harmony or understanding
The key difference from Western structure? The twist isn’t a complication—it’s a reframing.
There’s no problem to solve. No villain to defeat. No rising action toward a climax. Instead, there’s a moment of perspective shift that changes how we understand what came before.
How Kishotenketsu Actually Works
Let’s start with a classic example—a four-line poem:
Ki (Introduction): Daughters of Itoya, in the Honmachi of Osaka Shō (Development): The elder daughter is sixteen, the younger one is fourteen Ten (Twist): Throughout history, generals have killed the enemy with bows and arrows Ketsu (Conclusion): The daughters of Itoya kill with their eyes
There’s no conflict here. No problem. No antagonist.
But there is a shift:
- Lines 1-2 introduce two sisters
- Line 3 introduces something seemingly unrelated (warriors and weapons)
- Line 4 connects them through metaphor (beauty as a “weapon”)
The pleasure comes not from tension and release, but from the elegance of connection.
Western vs. Kishotenketsu Structure
Let’s compare how the same story concept would unfold:
Concept: A child plants a seed
Western Three-Act Structure:
- Act 1: Child plants a seed, dreams it will become a beautiful tree
- Act 2: Drought threatens the seed; child struggles to water it; obstacles emerge
- Act 3: Despite hardship, the seed grows into a magnificent tree (triumph over adversity)
Kishotenketsu Structure:
- Ki: A child plants a seed in the garden
- Shō: Each day, the child checks on it, imagining what it will become
- Ten: Meanwhile, in the forest, a tree releases thousands of seeds into the wind
- Ketsu: The child’s seed sprouts, one of countless seeds finding purchase—part of something vast and ongoing
Same starting point. Completely different story.
The Western version is about overcoming. The kishotenketsu version is about perspective.
Why This Structure Feels Foreign to Western Audiences
If you’ve grown up on Hollywood movies and Western novels, kishotenketsu can feel unsatisfying at first. We’re trained to expect:
- A protagonist who wants something
- Forces that oppose them
- Escalating tension
- A climactic confrontation
- Victory or defeat
Kishotenketsu offers none of that. Instead, it offers:
- Observation
- Development
- Recontextualization
- Reflection
It’s contemplative rather than confrontational. Meditative rather than dramatic.
But once you attune to it, kishotenketsu stories can be just as compelling—sometimes more so—because they mirror how we actually experience life.
Most of our lives aren’t about defeating villains. They’re about noticing small things, seeing connections, gaining perspective.
Where You’ve Already Seen Kishotenketsu (and Didn’t Realize It)
Studio Ghibli Films
Hayao Miyazaki is a master of kishotenketsu:
My Neighbor Totoro:
- Ki: Satsuki and Mei move to the countryside
- Shō: They explore their new surroundings, discover magical creatures
- Ten: Mei gets lost searching for her sick mother
- Ketsu: The family comes together; the mother will recover; life continues
There’s no villain. No final battle. The “twist” (Mei getting lost) isn’t a conflict—it’s a moment that reveals the underlying theme: family connection and the healing power of nature.
Kiki’s Delivery Service:
- Ki: Kiki arrives in a new city to become a witch
- Shō: She establishes a delivery service, makes friends
- Ten: She loses her magic powers
- Ketsu: She regains them through genuine connection with others
The “loss of powers” isn’t framed as an obstacle to overcome through struggle—it’s a catalyst for internal realization.
4-Panel Manga
Japanese yonkoma (four-panel comics) are structured around kishotenketsu:
- Panel 1: Setup
- Panel 2: Development
- Panel 3: Unexpected twist (usually the punchline)
- Panel 4: Conclusion or reaction
This is why Japanese four-panel comics often feel different from Western comic strips—they’re built on reframing rather than conflict-based humor.
Short Stories
Many literary short stories use kishotenketsu without realizing it:
“Hills Like White Elephants” by Hemingway:
- Ki: A couple waits at a train station
- Shō: They have a cryptic conversation about “the hills” and an “operation”
- Ten: We realize they’re discussing abortion
- Ketsu: No resolution, but the dynamic between them is now clear
There’s no external conflict, no villain, no plot in the traditional sense—just a shift in understanding.
How to Write Kishotenketsu Stories
Writing in kishotenketsu requires a fundamental shift in how you think about narrative:
1. Replace Conflict with Observation
Instead of asking “What problem does my character face?” ask “What does my character notice?”
Example:
- Conflict-based: A musician struggles to perfect their craft
- Kishotenketsu-based: A musician notices how sound reflects differently in various spaces
2. Build Toward Insight, Not Climax
The story’s peak isn’t a confrontation—it’s a moment of realization or connection.
Example:
- Conflict-based: The hero defeats the dragon and saves the village
- Kishotenketsu-based: A villager realizes the dragon has been guarding the mountain spring that feeds their crops
3. Use the Twist to Shift Perspective
The “ten” moment shouldn’t be a plot complication—it should introduce information that recontextualizes what came before.
Example:
Ki: An old man tends his garden every morning Shō: He carefully waters each plant, removing weeds, nurturing growth Ten: His granddaughter watches from the window, sketching him Ketsu: Years later, she plants her own garden, remembering his patience
The twist (the granddaughter watching) doesn’t create conflict—it reveals the meaning of the earlier actions.
4. Embrace Parallelism
Kishotenketsu often juxtaposes two situations to reveal unexpected connections.
Example:
Ki: A woman boards the same bus every morning Shō: She always sits in the same seat, reads the same newspaper Ten: A boy walks the same route to school, counting the same cracks in the sidewalk Ketsu: They’ve never met, but their routines intersect at the crosswalk each day—two patterns in the city’s larger pattern
5. Find Harmony, Not Resolution
Western stories end with problems solved. Kishotenketsu stories end with understanding reached.
The conclusion doesn’t “fix” anything—it synthesizes the parts into a cohesive whole.
When to Use Kishotenketsu
Kishotenketsu is especially effective for:
1. Slice-of-Life Stories
When your story is about daily life, observation, and small moments rather than high-stakes drama.
Example: A day in the life of a baker who notices how customers’ moods change with the seasons.
2. Meditative or Philosophical Narratives
When your goal is to evoke reflection rather than excitement.
Example: A story exploring the nature of time through parallel narratives of a tree and a human life.
3. Stories About Connection
When the theme is about finding unexpected relationships between seemingly unrelated things.
Example: A narrative that parallels a musician learning to improvise with a river finding its course.
4. Subverting Expectations
When you want to deliberately move away from traditional conflict-driven structure.
Example: A “heist story” where the crew doesn’t steal anything—they realize the vault contains something worthless, leading to a reflection on value and desire.
5. Poetry and Flash Fiction
Kishotenketsu’s concise structure makes it perfect for very short forms.
Combining Kishotenketsu with Western Structure
You don’t have to choose one or the other. Many modern storytellers blend both:
The Hybrid Approach
Macro-structure: Use Western three-act conflict structure for the overall plot Micro-structure: Use kishotenketsu for individual scenes or subplots
Example: A detective novel (conflict-driven plot) where individual chapters use kishotenketsu to explore character moments—the detective notices how rain changes the city, leading to an insight about the case.
The Alternating Structure
Tell two parallel stories—one conflict-driven, one kishotenketsu—that inform each other.
Example: A scientist racing to cure a disease (conflict) intercut with scenes of their child learning to garden (kishotenketsu). The child’s realization about patience and natural cycles influences the scientist’s approach.
Why This Matters for Western Storytellers
We’re oversaturated with conflict.
Every movie promises a showdown. Every novel promises a battle. Every story promises that someone will struggle against something.
This creates:
- Fatigue: Audiences grow numb to constant tension
- Simplification: Complex issues get reduced to “hero vs. villain”
- Missed nuance: Not everything in life is about overcoming obstacles
Kishotenketsu offers an alternative. It allows you to:
- Tell stories about quiet moments
- Explore themes through juxtaposition rather than confrontation
- Create narrative satisfaction through elegance and insight
It’s not better or worse than Western structure—it’s different. And different is valuable.
Practical Exercise
Try writing a four-paragraph story using kishotenketsu:
- Ki: Describe a person and their routine
- Shō: Add detail and depth to that routine
- Ten: Introduce something seemingly unrelated
- Ketsu: Connect the two, revealing an unexpected parallel or insight
Example:
Ki: Every Tuesday, Maria sorts her father’s old vinyl records, cataloging them by year. Shō: She’s memorized the scratches on each one, knows which skip at which track, which smell faintly of cigarettes from his old apartment. Ten: Across town, a construction crew tears down that apartment building, brick by brick. Ketsu: The records spin on—temporary vessels of something already gone, carefully preserved, like memory itself.
No conflict. No problem solved. Just a moment of resonance.
The Takeaway
Kishotenketsu proves that conflict isn’t the only engine of narrative.
Sometimes the most powerful stories don’t ask “How will they overcome this?”
They ask “What happens when we see this from a different angle?”
If every story you write follows the same conflict-driven formula, you’re missing half the storytelling toolkit.
Learn kishotenketsu. Experiment with it. Let it teach you that stories can move, surprise, and satisfy through elegance as much as through tension.
Because not every story needs a villain.
Some just need a new way of seeing.
Next in the series: The Story Circle vs. The Hero’s Journey - Dan Harmon’s simplified take on the monomyth.