Tonight’s story is another kidan-style tale with a skeptical title. It’s difficult to say there was no yūrei in this one—because how else do you explain it? And this was not just a rumor that Negishi picked up off the street, it was told to him directly by the man who experienced it.

Smallpox was one of the most deadly and feared diseases around the world before it was eradicated, and this was certainly no different in Edo period Japan. It was generally considered a rite of passage; that is how inevitable it was. You were going to get it at some point, and you would either live or die. People prayed to gods not to escape or avoid infection, but for the disease to pass lightly and without severe long-term effects. Yet plenty of people did die, many of them children, and there are lots of tales about supernatural events related to smallpox.

A Matter in Which It Is Difficult to Say There Was No Yūrei

A certain man named Kurihara, who used to come to my house, lived in Kohinata and regularly visited the home of a nearby hatamoto. He was particularly close to the family and was permitted to go into the inner chambers. The hatamoto had a son who was five years old. The boy was utterly adorable, and Kurihara doted on him and would bring him gifts whenever he visited.

When he had not visited for a while, a message arrived from that residence saying that he should by all means come that evening.

Kurihara entered through the front gate and walked down the hallway. The little boy came out as usual, tugged at Kurihara’s sleeve, and led him toward the back of the house. In the inner chambers, folding screens had been set up and there was a solemn, subdued atmosphere. Thinking that someone might be ill, Kurihara passed through calmly.

Just then, the master of the house came out and told him, “My son whom you adored so much has died of smallpox.”

Kurihara was not merely surprised; he told me himself that he was so scared that the hairs on his body stood on end.