Tonight’s story mentions a Masamune katana and a Yoshimitsu wakizashi. These refer to two legendary swordsmiths from the Kamakura period: Masamune and Awataguchi Yoshimitsu. A sword forged by one of these masters would be powerful indeed–powerful enough to kill a demon, if wielded in the right hands. In many stories, yokai refuse to even approach a warrior carrying such a famous blade, knowing how powerful it is. In game terms, these might be the equivalent of a +1 sword that has the ability to harm supernatural creatures. Swords like these appear in many stories, and have supernatural powers themselves.

The yokai in tonight’s story first appears as a young woman carrying a baby–a pattern seen in so many different types of yokai (yuki onna or nure onna, for example).Our samurai today clearly knew about this trick and tried to avoid it, beginning with the absurd scene where he smacks the baby away with an iron staff, and ending with a disaster reminiscent of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. After that, the yokai reveals its true form as some kind of oni or fearsome kijin. It’s probably thanks to those holy swords the samurai brought with him that he was able to survive that fight!

The Bakemono at Asama Shrine

There was a certain samurai in Shinano Province. He was a strong man with a good heart. One time, he gathered his retainers and told them the following story.

“I have heard that there is a bakemono in the Asama Shrine. I am vexed that while I have been here I have not seen it with my own eyes, and so tonight I have made up my mind to go to Asama and investigate it. If even one person follows me, I will order them to commit seppuku.”

He reigned in his retainers, then took up an 81 centimeter Masamune katana and a 57 centimeter Yoshimitsu wakizashi, tucked a 30 cm armor-piercing dagger into his breast pocket, and using an iron staff large enough for 5 or 6 men as a walking stick, he set out for the Asama Shrine on a bright night lit by the mid-August moon. He sat in front of the worship hall and waited, ready to strike down any person, whoever he may be, with a single blow.

Then, a beautiful woman of about 17 or 18 years, wearing a white single-layer kimono and carrying a child of about 3 years in her arms, came from the base of the shrine. She looked at the samurai and said, “I am so happy to see you. I am spending the night at this shrine, and you will make a good companion. I am so exhausted, won’t you take him in your arms?” Then she lowered the child from her breast, and he swiftly crawled towards the samurai. The samurai struck the child with his iron staff, and the child crawled back to its mother.

The woman said, “Hold him! Hold him!” and drove the child back. After this happened five or six times the staff bent, so the samurai drew the sword from his waist and slashed the child in two. The other half of the child sprouted eyes and a nose so that there were now two children crawling towards the samurai. When he cut down both of them, the pieces again sprouted eyes and noses and became children. The number of children grew until there were two or three hundred of them, and the shrine was overflowing with children all chasing the samurai.

Then the mother said, “Now it’s my turn.” The samurai readied to cut the woman down as well if she came close to him, but then he felt a sudden chill on his back and his hairs stood on end. There was a sound like a large stone dropping behind him, and he turned around to see a thirty meter tall oni springing towards him. The samurai stabbed the oni with each of his swords successively, then pulled him in close to finish him, but then he lost consciousness.

The samurai’s retainers came running to his side and found the samurai holding his wakizashi in a backhand grip, having pierced through the pagoda’s nine ringed spire. The monster had vanished, but the samurai, who fought with such absolute determination, managed to somehow get a sword through the nine rings.

Tonight’s story features a common folkloric theme found in tales around the world: animal-human coupling. Japanese folklore is especially rich with this, featuring tales of humans getting it on with birds, carp, clams, octopuses, frogs, dragons… and of course snakes, as today’s story shows.

My favorite thing about this story is the curse the husband shouts at the snake. Never in my whole life have I heard a curse as glorious as this one, and I can just visualize him stamping up and down, red-faced, steam pouring out of hears while he spouts off this long list of every god he can think of, swearing at these snakes. It’s a profanity of epic proportions, and the reaction of the snakes to it is just perfect. I know I would not want to mess with anyone who can spout off a curse like that at the drop of a hat…

The Snake from Tōtōmi Province Who Violated a Man’s Wife

In a mountain village in Tōtōmi Province there lived a village headman. While he was away on business, his wife went into the bedroom to take a nap. When the husband came home, he went to the bedroom and discovered a roughly 150 to 180 centimeter long snake wrapped two or three times around his wife, their mouths pressed together. When the headman saw this, he struck the snake with his staff and said, “You may just be a beast, but you are a menace to women! I should beat you to death, but just this once I will show mercy and spare you. If you ever do this again I will take your life.” Then he struck at the snake with his staff and drove it off towards the mountains.

The next morning, the headman slept in later than usual, and he awoke to the startled shouts of the men and women in his household, saying “What is this!” The headman got up and saw a 3 meter long snake in the middle of his garden. It was accompanied by a swarm of 30 to 180 centimeters long snakes, so large that there was no space to stand between them, raising their heads and flicking their red tongues.

The headman said, “You may just be beasts, but listen carefully! Yesterday I showed mercy upon one of you who attacked my wife, and now you come to curse me? But even for beasts, you are unprincipled and senseless! I swear by the kami and the buddhas; by the Three Jewels; by the gods of the heavens and the gods of the land; by Brahma, Indra, and the Four Heavenly Kings; by the sun, the moon, and all the constellations, realize what you are doing!”

He lost his temper so thoroughly and he spoke so severely that, starting with the largest one, all of the snakes bowed their heads to the ground and gathered around the largest snake. Then, all of the snakes in unison attacked the snake from the day before and bit it to death, then slithered off into the mountains. They never caused trouble after that.

It is a wonder that the headman was clever enough to avoid this danger, and that the snakes, though mere beasts, were able to listen to reason.

Tonight’s story is a variation on a folktale that is famous all over the world. The Tale of the Peony Lantern has been featured in A-Yokai-A-Day before, and also appears on yokai.com. It’s inspired Toriyama Sekien to create the yokai hone onna, who also has appeared in A-Yokai-A-Day before.

This version is clearly based on that story, with a few differences. Instead of a Peony Lantern (牡丹灯; botan dō), we have a Peony Hall (牡丹堂; botan dō); pronounced identically in Japanese. Although the story still roughly follows the same storyline, it’s an interesting change. The ending is basically the same, and it’s so startling that it is clear why this story has remained so popular for such a long time and over such a wide geographical area.

Interestingly, this is also the only story in Shokoku hyakumonogatari that does not take place in Japan.

The Obsession of the Woman from Peony Hall

In ancient China there was a temple called Peony Hall. When a person died, their remains were placed in a box and peonies were painted on its sides, and these boxes were brought to Peony Hall and stacked on top of each other.

One man who lost his wife was so overcome with grief that for many days he went to Peony Hall every night and recited nenbutsu.

One night, a young woman wearing a gong around her neck came to Peony Hall to recite nenbutsu. The man found this strange, and asked her, “Why would a woman come to a place like this?”

The woman explained, “I was separated from my husband by death, and so…”

Then she began to cry. After that, the two of them stood up and wandered together among the graves, here and there, chanting nenbutsu. They returned every night and did the same thing. Eventually they developed deep feelings for each other, and they confessed their love and went back to the man’s house together. After night fell, they were drinking sake and merrymaking, when a neighbor peeked in at them only to see that the man was sitting across from a woman’s skull and drinking with it.

The neighbor was astonished, and the following day he spoke to the man and told him what he had seen. The man was shocked. He waited for evening to come, and when the woman came back, he saw that she was indeed a skull! The man was so horrified that he shut himself in his home for three years, which he spent fasting and purifying himself.

After three years, the man stepped outside for a diversion and tried to catch a small bird. While he was chasing after a sparrow, it flew into Peony Hall to hide. The man was seen following the bird up to the entrance of Peony Hall, but a moment later he disappeared. His servants were astonished. They searched among the boxes stacked up in Peony Hall, where they found a box that was smeared with blood. When they looked inside the box, inside they found a woman’s skeleton gripping the man’s head in her jaws. Though three years had passed, the woman’s obsession caught the man at least.

Tonight’s story is from Shimōsa Province, which today covers part of Chiba, Ibaraki, Saitama and Tokyo Prefectures, however, the precise location of Sano nor of the Yuzuru Kannon are not known. It’s a strange story in which the main character gets teleported across the country from Shimōsa to Sado in the pursuit of military knowledge.

Today’s story features another chigo (see yesterday’s story) and also uses the term kamuro to describe the person carrying the teacup. Both chigo and kamuro are common figures in Shokoku hyakumonogatari. Kamuro have appeared in other posts on this site, so I’ll refer to them to explain the term.

The tiny man in the cup is hard to figure, as nothing detailed is given about him, other than he is tiny and is carried around in a teacup by a kamuro, and has the ability to grant wishes. Presumably this tiny man is one of the many forms of Kannon, a Buddhist goddess of mercy. The tiny man reminds me of Issun bōshi, a Japanese fairy tale character, but it’s hard to say much else about him.

Anyway, here is the story!

Learning the Art of War from Yuzuru no Kannon

In a place called Sano in Shimōsa Province there was a samurai who excelled in the art of war. In the same province was another man who, one way or another, wished to surpass this master tactician. He had heard that there was a renowned and miraculous holy site called Yuzuru no Kannon deep in a place called Tatebayashi, so he went there and prayed continuously for his wish to come true.

On the third night of his vigil, a kamuro of around eleven or twelve appeared, carrying an indigo-dyed teacup in which sat a person. The person in the teacup said, “If you can defeat this chigo in sumo, I will grant your wish.”

The man wrestled the chigo, but the chigo was stronger than he expected. It looked like he was going to lose. Finally, he managed to grab the chigo, but just as he was about to throw him down, he was thrown down himself.

When he got up, he saw that he was not standing in front of the Kannon statue, but was instead on top of a steep, rocky crag. Surprised and confused, he managed to descend to the base of the crag by clinging to the branches of trees growing out of the cracks in the rocks. Then he found someone on the road and asked, “Which way is Sano?”

The traveler laughed and asked him, “Who are you, and what are you talking about?”

Thinking this strange, the man asked, “What is this place called?”

“This is Sado Province,” replied the traveler. “And where did you come from?”

“I came from the top of this mountain,” replied the man.

The traveler was astonished. “This mountain is called Hokusangatake, and no humans live there anymore. Why have you come down from this mountain? You must not be human!” And he ran away in fear.

Afterwards, the man boarded a ship headed for the eastern provinces and returned to his village in Sano. He was so puzzled that he returned to Yuzuru no Kannon’s village, and the person in the teacup appeared once again.

“Well, well, you are an honest and good-natured person. Therefore, I will grant you your wish,” said the person in the teacup. And he taught the man all of the secret techniques of the art of war.

After that, the man became a renowned tactician. He even mastered the technique of not allowing others to draw their swords, and the technique that, if his arm was ever cut by another’s sword, he would make it so that he was not injured at all.

Until very recently, his child resided in Edo, but I heard that he is no longer able to perform that technique.