You spend long enough around names — studying them, asking about them, watching people react to them — and you start to notice patterns. In Japan especially, names aren’t chosen lightly. They’re soaked in meaning, history, and sometimes… baggage no one wants to carry.
I’ve seen it over and over again: someone picks a name because it sounds elegant, maybe poetic. But once you dig into the kanji, the layers peel back like old lacquer — and suddenly you’re staring at a meaning like “death,” “suffering,” or “demon child.” Not exactly what you’d want hanging over a crib, right?
Now, I’ve been working with names for over 20 years — long enough to watch naming trends shift, and old superstitions fall in and out of favor. Still, some names have never quite shaken the bad luck tied to them. Whether it’s a tone that resembles a funeral term, a character associated with folklore curses, or just plain bad timing in history… these names stick out, and not in a good way.
So what makes a name unlucky in Japan? That’s what we’re getting into — from taboo kanji to names that carry generational shame, we’ll break down the kinds of names people avoid (and why).
How Names Shape Perception and Fate in Japanese Culture
Now, this might sound strange at first, but in Japan, a name isn’t just a name — it’s more like a spiritual blueprint. I’ve spent the better part of two decades studying Japanese naming culture, and what’s struck me most is how seriously people take the idea that a name can influence not just personality, but destiny.
From the moment a child is born, the name chosen during the naming ceremony (often held on the seventh day, known as oshichiya) is believed to carry deep spiritual resonance. Families don’t just pick names that sound nice — they carefully select kanji with auspicious meanings, drawing from Buddhist beliefs, ancestral ties, or even consulting naming specialists who understand the karmic weight of each character. Yes, that’s a real thing.
I’ve seen names altered slightly to avoid bad karmic flow, or changed altogether because of a streak of bad luck. One family I worked with years ago changed a child’s name after three accidents in a row — they swore it changed everything. And honestly? I’ve come to believe there’s something to it.
So when we talk about names in Japan, we’re really talking about a cultural psychology that blends tradition, luck rituals, and an almost sacred respect for what a name can invite — or repel.
Superstition and Kanji: The Root of “Unlucky”
Here’s what I’ve learned after years of decoding names in Japan: kanji isn’t just about how it looks or sounds — it’s about what it invites. And sometimes, it invites trouble.
Certain kanji characters carry long-standing superstitions, not because they’re inherently negative, but because of how their meanings, radicals, or even stroke counts tie into old beliefs. Take the character 死 (shi, meaning “death”). Sounds harmless enough in the right context — but pair it with the wrong homophones or use it in a baby name? Suddenly, it’s heavy with ominous weight. I’ve seen parents avoid characters just because they contain the same radical as “illness” or “loss.” They don’t always say it aloud, but the hesitation is there.
Now, here’s the thing: some characters just look unlucky. Their visual cues, the way they echo with darker tones, or even their phonetic overlap with taboo words — it all adds up. There’s even number symbolism tied to certain names (like 4 and 9, which are read as “shi” and “ku” — sounding like death and suffering). It’s subtle, but the impact is real.
What I’ve found is that good naming isn’t just art — it’s avoidance. A little superstition, sure, but rooted in generations of cultural instinct.
Names That Contain Death or Loss
Now, I’ve looked at thousands of names over the years — from glossy baby name books to ancient temple records — and there’s one thing that always stands out: some kanji just carry a weight you can feel. In Japanese naming, certain characters are practically avoided like spiritual potholes. And for good reason.
Names that include kanji like 死 (shi – death) or 悲 (hi – sorrow) are rarely used, even if the overall sound of the name is soft or pleasant. I’ve heard people say, “But it sounds pretty!” Sure, maybe. But in the cultural and emotional context? It’s like wrapping a gift in mourning paper. There’s a lingering tone of mourning, a sense of imbalance — and that’s something Japanese naming tradition leans away from hard.
Let me give you a quick comparison to illustrate what I mean:
| Kanji | Meaning | Why It’s Avoided |
|---|---|---|
| 死 (shi) | Death | Strong association with funerals, spiritual finality |
| 悲 (hi) | Sorrow | Evokes grief, loss, emotional pain |
| 苦 (ku) | Suffering | Homophone with “pain” and unlucky number 9 (ku) |
| 魔 (ma) | Demon/Evil | Linked to dark forces, taboo in Buddhist funerary beliefs |
What I’ve found is that even if the full name has a positive spin, once it contains a grief-related kanji, it’s seen as spiritually unbalanced. You’ll rarely see these characters in modern name registries — and when you do, it’s usually either a mistake or someone pushing hard against tradition (sometimes unknowingly).
Top 50 Japanese Names That Mean Unlucky
Naming a child is one of the most meaningful things a parent does — and in Japan, it’s also one of the most symbolically loaded. Over the years, I’ve run into dozens of names that sound lovely at first but carry heavy cultural or phonetic baggage once you break down the kanji. Whether it’s bad luck, dark history, or just an unfortunate homophone, these names tend to raise eyebrows in registries… or even get whispered about at family gatherings.
Below is a comparison table of 10 examples from the full list of 50 I’ve compiled. Each one includes the kanji, pronunciation, gender tag, and a short note on the unlucky element. (And yes — I’ve personally advised clients to steer clear of several of these.)
| # | Name | Kanji | Pronunciation | Gender | Unlucky Meaning / Issue |
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| 1 | Shiichi | 死一 | Shi-ichi | Male | “Death + one” — unlucky for a first son |
| 2 | Yamiko | 病子 | Ya-mi-ko | Female | 病 = illness, used in negative omens |
| 3 | Utsuno | 鬱乃 | U-tsu-no | Female | 鬱 = depression, heaviness |
| 4 | Metsuo | 滅夫 | Me-tsu-o | Male | 滅 = destroy, often linked to ruin |
| 5 | Shikako | 死佳子 | Shi-ka-ko | Female | 死 = death, taboo in baby names |
| 6 | Kanako | 悲子 | Ka-na-ko | Female | 悲 = sadness, grief |
| 7 | Akuma | 悪魔 | A-ku-ma | Male | Literally means “devil” — banned |
| 8 | Nigiko | 苦子 | Ni-gi-ko | Female | 苦 = suffering, linked to karmic misfortune |
| 9 | Saira | 災良 | Sai-ra | Unisex | 災 = disaster, inauspicious |
| 10 | Shibi | 屍美 | Shi-bi | Female | 屍 = corpse, 美 = beauty — eerie combo |
| 11 | Kuzuo | 崩男 | Ku-zu-o | Male | 崩 = collapse — rarely used in modern names |
| 12 | Ayami | 絢未 | A-ya-mi | Female | 未 = “not yet,” linked to incompletion |
| 13 | Jiko | 事故 | Ji-ko | Unisex | 事故 = accident — almost never accepted |
| 14 | Namida | 涙 | Na-mi-da | Female | 涙 = tears, not ideal in name meanings |
| 15 | Fumika | 不美花 | Fu-mi-ka | Female | 不美 = “not beautiful” — harsh judgment |
| 16 | Shinji | 信死 | Shin-ji | Male | 死 again — even if accidental, it’s a red flag |
| 17 | Oni | 鬼 | O-ni | Male | 鬼 = demon, associated with evil spirits |
| 18 | Kuroko | 黒子 | Ku-ro-ko | Female | 黒 = black, 子 = child — “black child” |
| 19 | Gekka | 月禍 | Ge-kka | Female | 禍 = curse/disaster — seen as ominous |
| 20 | Tsuiho | 追放 | Tsui-ho | Male | Means “banishment” — not what you want |
| 21 | Shika | 死香 | Shi-ka | Female | Death + fragrance — unsettling pairing |
| 22 | Zanka | 残火 | Zan-ka | Unisex | Remnant fire — can imply ruin |
| 23 | Tōka | 凍花 | Tō-ka | Female | Frozen flower — poetic, but emotionally cold |
| 24 | Kirai | 嫌井 | Ki-rai | Unisex | 嫌 = dislike, negative emotion |
| 25 | Batsu | 罰 | Ba-tsu | Male | 罰 = punishment, directly tied to guilt |
| 26 | Akuta | 悪田 | A-ku-ta | Male | 悪 = evil, 田 = field — bad harvest omen |
| 27 | Juna | 呪奈 | Ju-na | Female | 呪 = curse — self-explanatory |
| 28 | Kuroha | 黒葉 | Ku-ro-ha | Female | “Black leaf” — linked to decay |
| 29 | Reika | 霊華 | Rei-ka | Female | 霊 = ghost/spirit, 華 = flower — ghost flower |
| 30 | Fuka | 不佳 | Fu-ka | Female | 不 = not, 佳 = good — “not good” |
| 31 | Akuji | 悪事 | A-ku-ji | Male | 悪事 = bad deed — rarely accepted |
| 32 | Kuzumi | 崩美 | Ku-zu-mi | Female | 崩 = crumble, 美 = beauty — symbolic decline |
| 33 | Shion | 死音 | Shi-on | Female | “Death sound” — rarely chosen today |
| 34 | Jakuya | 弱夜 | Ja-ku-ya | Male | 弱 = weak, 夜 = night — symbol of fragility |
| 35 | Ranka | 嵐火 | Ran-ka | Female | “Storm fire” — seen as unstable |
| 36 | Muma | 夢魔 | Mu-ma | Female | Nightmare demon — folklore reference |
| 37 | Himei | 悲鳴 | Hi-mei | Female | Literally “scream” — not ideal |
| 38 | Ayako | 危子 | A-ya-ko | Female | 危 = danger — rejected by registry |
| 39 | Shikyo | 死境 | Shi-kyo | Male | “Death’s edge” — poetically grim |
| 40 | Kōka | 降火 | Kō-ka | Female | “Falling fire” — spiritual downfall |
| 41 | Rakuya | 楽夜 | Ra-ku-ya | Male | Resembles 落 (fall) — unlucky association |
| 42 | Urami | 恨美 | U-ra-mi | Female | 恨 = resentment — emotional weight |
| 43 | Zenna | 善無 | Ze-n-na | Female | “No goodness” — deeply ironic |
| 44 | Fukami | 深闇 | Fu-ka-mi | Female | “Deep darkness” — poetic, but ominous |
| 45 | Akuba | 悪婆 | A-ku-ba | Female | “Wicked old woman” — folklore villain |
| 46 | Sanzu | 三途 | San-zu | Male | River of the dead — Buddhist concept |
| 47 | Noriko | 呪里子 | No-ri-ko | Female | 呪 = curse, 里 = village — cursed village child |
| 48 | Shiran | 死乱 | Shi-ran | Male | “Death and chaos” — universally avoided |
| 49 | Tamashii | 魂死 | Ta-ma-shii | Male | “Soul death” — emotionally harsh |
| 50 | Makura | 枕元 | Ma-ku-ra | Unisex | Linked to deathbeds — mourning connotation |
Historical Context: Feared Names from the Past
Some names carry weight — not just because of what they mean, but because of what they remind people of. In Japanese history, that’s often where the superstition around certain names starts. I’ve come across more than a few families who avoided otherwise beautiful names just because they were once tied to a period of national grief or disgrace.
Take the Sengoku period, for example. That was a brutal time — full of warlords, betrayals, and bloodshed. Names associated with fallen generals or traitorous figures? Pretty much off-limits, even generations later. I once met a family who refused to name their son “Nobunaga,” not because of the meaning, but because of the fear that the boy would be “too bold and bring ruin,” like the infamous warlord. Superstition? Maybe. But in that household, it felt very real.
During the Edo era, names that resembled those of famine years or corrupt daimyō became quietly cursed. People believed they carried bad omens, and that naming a child after a troubled era might pass down that same misfortune — a sort of inherited spiritual debt.
What I’ve found over the years is this: in Japan, historical memory lives in names. And sometimes, the past is best left unspoken — or at least unnamed.
Modern-Day Unlucky Names & Reactions
You’d think with all the baby naming apps, digital filters, and modern tools out there, we’d have moved past the whole “unlucky name” thing — but honestly, we haven’t. Not entirely. What I’ve found, especially in the last 10–15 years, is that modern superstition hasn’t disappeared — it’s just adapted.
I’ve seen cases where families flat-out reject a name chosen by one parent because the kanji “feels wrong” or sounds too close to a word associated with death or misfortune. There are even public registry issues — some names can get flagged or rejected due to outdated Meiji-era laws, which still quietly shape what’s considered acceptable today.
And the social reaction? Brutal, sometimes. Kids with names linked to bad luck or cursed meanings have been teased, excluded, or even advised by teachers to go by a nickname instead. In more extreme cases, I’ve come across parents who’ve legally changed their child’s name just a year or two in — not easy under Japanese name change law, but doable if there’s “good reason.” Emotional distress counts.
What’s interesting is how baby naming apps in Japan now include ‘avoidance warnings’. They’ll flag names with negative homophones, strange stroke patterns, or even digital “bad luck” scores. It’s all very sleek, very modern — but underneath, the old fears are still there. Just dressed up in UX.
Modern-Day Unlucky Names & Reactions
Here’s the thing — even in today’s Japan, giving a child an unlucky name can still stir up all kinds of reactions, both inside and outside the family. I’ve seen it firsthand over the years, and it hasn’t really changed all that much — the superstition just looks a little more polished now.
In some cases, relatives will quietly pull the parents aside and say, “Are you sure about that kanji?” Especially with older family members, there’s a deep-rooted discomfort around names that sound like death, misfortune, or illness. One client of mine told me her grandmother wouldn’t speak her baby’s name for weeks — she believed it had the energy of a bad omen.
Now, legally? The Meiji-era name laws still shape what can actually go on the family registry, and yes, names do get rejected. I’ve had parents come back to me after their choice was denied because of characters with banned meanings or excessive stroke counts. Even naming apps now include filters that warn you about “inauspicious combinations,” or flag kanji with dark historical or phonetic baggage.
What I’ve found is this: social judgment can be just as harsh as official rejection. Sometimes it’s subtle — like a teacher always using a nickname instead of the child’s real name. Other times, it turns into ridicule or even a quiet push for a name change. And yes, I’ve seen parents legally change their baby’s name before the child even turned two. It’s rare — but it happens.
How to Avoid Choosing an Unlucky Name
Over the years, I’ve helped hundreds of families name their babies — and one thing that keeps coming up is this quiet fear: what if we accidentally choose a name with bad luck attached? Honestly, it’s more common than people think, especially with kanji.
Here’s what works (at least in my experience): start with safe, well-regarded kanji — ones known for good fortune, strength, or harmony. You’ll find these in traditional naming books, or even listed in the back of certain parenting magazines in Japan. Some families still consult their local shrine, or even draw an omikuji (a fortune slip) to get spiritual direction. I’ve seen grandparents insist on involving the family priest, especially when there’s been past misfortune in the family line.
Another thing? Talk it through. It might sound old-school, but family consensus still matters. I’ve seen beautiful names tossed out because an aunt remembered a cousin who died young with the same name — and no one wanted to “tempt fate.”
Digital tools are helpful too, but they can’t replace cultural instinct. Those naming apps with red flags and luck meters? Use them, sure — just don’t let them make the final call. What I’ve found is that naming well in Japan isn’t just about what sounds pretty — it’s about protecting the child.
