Tonight’s tale describes a sea monster called a fuka. This strange creature’s name is written 海豚魚, or sea-pig-fish. Today these kanji are used for the word iruka, or dolphin, and fuka is actually an old word for a shark. Today we know that dolphins and sharks are quite different animals, but in the Edo period the difference between them was ambiguous, and all sorts of real animals as well as sea monsters could easily be lumped under one term.

It’s a challenge to come up with the look of a monster that has no text description, as is the case with so many of the figures in Shokoku hyakumonogatari. Luckily, though, this time the original story came with an illustration that I could base my fuka off of. Here is how it looks in the original book:

For my illustration all I needed was the severed head of the fuka, and luckily this picture shows the very un-shark-like monster’s head pretty clearly.

The arrow Sukenojō fires at the fuka is described as a karimata arrow. This is a kind of arrow with a particularly deadly shaped head; it looks like a crescent moon and is designed to tear the flesh so its target bleeds to death very quickly. The bow he carries (I translated it as “greatbow”) is described as a “three man” bow in the original, meaning a bow so large that it would take three men to pull it all the way back. Sukenojō was clearly a tough samurai!

How Matsumura Sukenojō Was Taken By a Fuka

When the lord of Ōsaka Castle was rotated back to Edo, all of the cargo was loaded onto a ship and went straight to sea, with Matsumura Sukenojō serving as the baggage officer. At Kumanoura, the ship suddenly stopped moving.

The captain said, “There is one among us who has been possessed by the sea. One man alone can be responsible for the deaths of many. Everyone must go to the front of the ship and, one by one, dump everything in their pockets and purses, even their tissue paper, into the sea. The sea will take the items belonging to the possessed man, but it will not take the items belonging to the others. With that as proof, I will throw the possessed man overboard.”

The men, without fail, gathered all of their possessions and one by one threw them all into the sea. Everything floated; however, even though Sukenojō’s tissue paper was floating, a giant fish leapt out of the sea and devoured it.

The captain said, “Then it is decided. This samurai is our man. It can’t be helped, so please jump into the ocean.”

Sukenojō replied, “I have no choice. However, a samurai must not be allowed to die so easily.”

He grabbed his greatbow and a karimata arrow, went to the side of the boat, and called, “Hey, spirit! I’m coming for you! If you are real, show yourself!”

A great fuka leaped out of the sea at him, its mouth open wide.

“Let the top and bottom of my bow become one!” shouted Sukenojō, and, with a loud snap, he fired his arrow down the fuka’s throat. The fuka was knocked back and sank into the sea. Afterwards, the boat started moving again, and they made it safely to Edo. Sukenojō narrowly survived that disaster.

Three years later, Sukenojō’s master was put in charge of Nijō Castle. As usual, Sukenojō went by ship with all of the luggage. When the ship arrived at Kumanoura, the weather was poor, so the ship pulled into port and they stayed there for four or five days.

There was a shrine to Hachiman nearby, and Sukenojō paid a visit to this shrine during his free time. Among the votive offerings there was a karimata arrow. Upon close inspection, he saw it was the same arrow that Sukenojō had fired at the fuka three years earlier; the arrow had “Great Bodhisattva Hachiman” written in red on it, proving that it was his. Sukenojō was astonished and asked the chief priest about it.

The priest explained, “Once or twice every year a fish called a fuka came to this inlet to haunt boats and take peoples’ lives. This must have upset Lord Hachiman, for it seems he shot the fuka dead with this arrow. Three years ago the fuka washed ashore with the waves and this arrow was sticking out of its throat. All who saw it were certain that it was the divine judgment of Hachiman. And so, the arrow and the head of the fuka were made into votive offerings.”

After hearing this, Sukenojō told the chief priest everything that had happened, and had him retrieve the head of the fuka and show it to him.

“Well, well, you are the beast who tried to take my life!” he said. Sukenojō petted the creature’s head, and he felt something like a spine prick his hand. After that his hand began to swell. Within a day it had swollen to the size of a tatami mat, and finally Sukenojō died.

Tonight’s yokai is something called a kasha – meaning “fire chariot.” Kasha were giant cats that interrupted funerals and robbed graves of the sinful. The cat connection comes from ancient superstitions that cats were fond of corpses; either to eat, or to control like puppets. It’s an interesting name for a yokai, because while it is often depicted as a corpse-stealing giant cat, while other times it is depicted, as its name suggests, as a flaming chariot pulled by oni. The wheel is a common symbol in Buddhism, as it symbolizes the ever-revolving cycle of reincarnation; of course it’s also useful for dragging unwilling victims to hell for punishment, and flaming chariot wheels are not uncommon imagery when it comes to Japanese hell.

Tonight’s kasha is of the flaming chariot variety and not the grave-robbing cat variety. In today’s story it is used as an example of one of the most awful forms of punishment: falling into hell while still alive. This is a state of pure, intense suffering, because you did something so bad that hell won’t wait for you to die.

In the case of this story, the unforgivably bad sin that was committed was “using two measuring cups.” The story doesn’t elaborate much on what this means, but it refers to the dishonest usage of two different cup sizes: one when buying rice, and one when selling rice. In other words, you use the big cup when you need to buy rice, and you use the small cup when you sell it. This way you cheat both the farmer and the customer, and get rich in the process.

I’m sure we can all agree that such cheating is reprehensible, but it seems a little extreme to send someone into living hell for being stingy. On the other hand, during the Edo period, rice was life. In a period when food was sometimes scarce and salaries were paid in bushels of rice, it’s easier to see why this was considered to be a serious crime.

How a Woman Was Taken by a Kasha For Using Two Measuring Cups

A pilgrim performing the Saigoku Kannon Pilgrimage visited Seiganji Temple in Kyōto to have his goshūin book stamped. In the courtyard, a woman of about 40 years old was pulled out of a flaming chariot by an ox-headed demon and a horse-headed demon, violently accosted, and then forced back onto the chariot and driven off westward.

The pilgrim was astonished. He followed the chariot all the way to a rice shop in the vicinity of Shijō Horikawa. Growing even more curious, he entered the rice shop to ask what was going on.

People told him, “The rice dealer’s wife has been suffering from a sudden illness these past four or five days. Three times a day and three times a night she complains that her body is on fire.”

The pilgrim thought to himself for a moment, and then told the rice dealer what he had seen.

The rice dealer was surprised and said, “It’s just as I thought! My wife is a greedy person, and she is constantly using two different measuring cups for her own gain. I tried to stop her but she would not listen. It seems her sins have caused her to fall into hell while still alive.”

The rice dealer quit his job, became a monk, and departed upon a pilgrimage of the provinces. His wife died shortly afterwards, and their family line died out.

Tonight’s story is another tale about romance and ghosts, although it’s not a horrific one like many that we’ve seen. Instead, this ghost story sets up an interesting false etymology for the Japanese surname Nikurube. This surname is particularly difficult to read in Japanese, and causes a lot of confusion for people who don’t know how it is read. In some rankings it is said to be the #1 most difficult name in Japanese.

There are a few different ways to write Nikurube, but one of them is 釋迦牟尼佛. Normally, those kanji are read “Shakamuni hotoke” — the name of the Buddha. Yet by some odd way, when used as a name they came to be pronounced Nikurube.

The story gives an entertaining name for why the name of the Buddha came to be a family name, but it doesn’t explain how the pronunciation actually changed from Shakamuni hotoke to Nikurube. This is also an interesting story. There are many titles and epithets used for the Buddha, buddhas, bodhisattvas. One of the common ones is Nyōrai (as in Amida Nyōrai). All of the buddhas collectively can be referred to as “the nyōrai group” or nyōraibu; -bu in this case being a suffix meaning “group.” Nyōraibu is written with the kanji 如来部. If you use an alternate pronunciation for each if the kanji in nyō-rai-bu, you get ni-kuru-be.

So, the pronunciation of the name Nikurube comes from the kanji for one of the Buddha’s epithets, but is written with the kanji for the actual name of the Buddha. It is spelled completely different from how it sounds. No wonder it’s confusing to so many people!

Now just wait until you hear why the name of the Buddha became a surname:

The Origin of the Surname ‘Nikurube’

In Nihonbashi, Edo, there was a wealthy merchant named Yorozuya Hanbei. Every year he would travel to Kyōto to make purchases, and he would stay at an inn run by a widow and her daughter. The daughter had beautiful features, and Hanbei was drawn to her and reached out to court her. She had already held affection for Hanbei for some time, and, their feelings mutual, she told her mother everything. She and Hanbei fell deeply in love with each other.

One day, Hanbei said to the girl, “My home is in Edo, and wouldn’t it be better for both you and your mother to move to Edo and live a comfortable life? I will go there first and make all of the arrangements, and then I will send for someone to bring you here. How does that sound?”

The girl was delighted and said, “I have been thinking the same thing for some time now. And, if you can’t wait until next year, I’d like to travel to Edo with you, and spend every morning and evening together.”

Hanbei was happy to hear this, but he first returned to Edo by himself. Perhaps exhausted from the journey, he fell ill upon returning home, lost track of time, and forgot about returning to Kyōto to pick up the girl.

Not knowing this, the girl waited impatiently in the capital for Hanbeti’s late arrival, and thought of nothing but him morning and night. Perhaps it was due to her worry piling up, but she soon fell ill, and finally she died. Her mother was devastated.

Meanwhile, back in Edo, Hanbei remembered the girl and thought that she must be waiting impatiently for him to come get her. He wondered how she was doing, and fondly remembered his time in the capital.

“Is this Yorozuya Hanbei’s place?” a voice asked. Hanbei looked up and saw that it was his fiance from the capital.

Hanbei was overjoyed. “Well now, how is it that you have come here? It’s like a miracle!” he said, and the two of them could not hold back their tears.

The girl lamented Hanbei’s lateness and spoke her grievances, and Hanbei made various excuses; but in the end he calmed her and welcomed her inside, introducing her to his entire family as his new wife.

“Now then, let us send for your mother in the capital to come here as well,” said Hanbei.

The girl stopped him, saying, “First let us wait two or three years.”

Hanbei didn’t see any reason to argue, and so the months and years passed. Before long, the girl became pregnant, then gave birth to a fine baby boy. When the boy was three years old, the girl’s mother came from the capital to visit Hanbei, who was delighted to see her.

The widow, sobbing, said, “Well now, just looking at you I get all choked up. It’s been three years since my daughter, whom I gave to you and who waited and waited for you to come for her, died of heartbreak when you never showed up. Since she died, I have had nobody to support me. It’s been getting harder for me to scrape by, and as you have always been a compassionate man, I thought that if I came to Edo to ask for your help you would never abandon me. So here I have come. Please help me, as you would have helped my daughter.”

Hanbei replied, “What a strange thing you say! Your daughter came down here three years ago, and now we even have a three year old child. Look, here is your grandson!” And he showed her the child.

The widow was astonished, and replied, “Then I’d like to see my daughter.”

Hanbei took her inside, but the daughter, refusing to see her mother, hid herself in the closet. When Hanbei opened the closet to speak with her, the girl was nowhere to be found; instead, there was a grave tablet. Hanbet showed the tablet to the window, who burst into tears.

“So, she was so devoted to you that her spirit came here to live with you for three years! How incredible!” cried the widow.

She withdrew a grave tablet from her breast pocket and held it next to the one Hanbei was holding. On both tablets, “Shakyamuni Buddha” was written in the same handwriting. Hanbei was also moved to tears. He performed funerary services for the girl, and he made sure that the girl’s mother was provided all that she wished for.

The child grew into a young man of superb looks and intelligence, and the provincial governor at the time heard about him and took him as an employee. Hanbei’s family name was Ōtomo, but this child was born of a ghost, so the name “Shakyamuni Buddha” which was written on the grave tablet had its reading changed, and the boy came to be known as Nikurube San’ya. Since then, this family name has been handed down from generation to generation.

Tonight’s story features an onryō, the most terrifying of Japanese ghosts. Fans of yokai folklore might even think this story sounds somewhat familiar. There’s a clear connection to one of Japan’s most famous ghost tales, Sarayashiki. Everything from the ghost’s name (Kiku), to the setting (Himeji castle; mentioned later on in the story), to the absolutely cruel treatment of the serving girl, culminating in throwing her down a hole to her death (or a well). Despite the many similarities, this story is different enough that it still feels like a fresh version and not just a retelling.

There are a few parts of this story that were hard to translate, because they breezed over things that begged for more explanation. One part is the various types of torture that Kiku had to endure. The story lists water torture, the torture of the iron bars, the wooden horse, and the torture of the old tree without describing what those are. So just to quickly go over them:

• Water torture includes several unpleasant things, from splashing her with cold water, to holding her head underwater, to wrapping cloth around her face and pouring water over her (i.e. waterboarding).
• The torture of the iron bars involves binding a person’s hands and legs with heavy iron bars and then adding weight to crush them, or twisting them. It’s pretty gruesome.
• The wooden horse involves straddling someone on top of a pointed wooden device and weight their limbs down and letting gravity work its horrors. Yuck.
• And the torture of the old tree is hanging someone upside-down from a tree. From this position you can either beat them like a piñata or allow gravity to make the blood pool in their head and eventually kill them. Choices!
• Lastly, dripping soy sauce into the open wounds is pretty self explanatory. I’m not sure whether the boiling part or the salt in the wounds part would hurt more, but it is exceptionally cruel.

No wonder the girl becomes an onryō!

My favorite part of this story, though, is easy to miss. The appearance of the elderly servant at the end of the story, who orders the younger footmen to pay the girl’s cab fare. At first I wondered why one of the high ranking servants, basically the majordomo, would tell the doormen to pay double the fee for some random, unexpected woman. But the key is in his age: this man is old enough that he has served four generations of Shuri’s family. That is to say, he has witnessed every single member of Shuri’s family for four generations fall pray to Kiku. He knows what’s up, he knows the curse, and he knows there’s nothing that can be done to stop her. So he just tells them to pay the fare, and he alone knows what is coming next. Chilling!

So with that in mind, enjoy this creepy tale!

The Ghost of Kiku, Maidservant of Kumamoto Shuri

Kumamoto Shuri was an exceedingly wicked and cruel man. When he was serving at the castle, he became furious when he discovered a pin in his food, and he called his maidservant Kiku to him.

“Who ordered you to do such a thing? Tell me the truth. If you don’t tell me I will beat it out of you!”

Kiku was astonished. She said, “Oh my, I’ve made a terrible mistake. Earlier, I was sewing a kimono and I tucked the needle into my hair. It must have fallen out and into your food. I did not intend for such a thing to happen. And I was not ordered by anyone to do it. It was a simple mistake, so please forgive me.”

To which Shuri replied, “So you want to argue? Then I shall torture you.”

First he used water torture. Second was the torture of the iron bars. Third was the wooden horse. Fourth was the torture of the old tree. Fifth, he cut open her back and poured boiling soy sauce into the wounds.

However, all Kiku said was, “There’s nothing more that I can say except what I already told you. Please, just fire me!”

To which Shuri replied, “I see I have been too lenient in my punishments as you will not confess.”

He ordered the peasants to bring two or three thousand snakes, then he dug a hole and put Kiku in it, and had the snakes released into the hole.

Kiku told the other servants, “It seems I will not survive this. Please, at least call my mother and let me say goodbye to her.” They pitied her, and called Kiku’s mother and arranged for them to meet.

Upon seeing Kiku’s condition, her mother looked up at the heavens and fell to the ground, and cried out, “In order to serve the samurai we have been prepared for a lot, but to this kind of torture as a source of amusement?! When you die, come back as an onryō and take revenge for this! Never forget it!”

Kiku replied, “Be at ease. I will bear this grudge not just against Shuri’s entire family, but against seven generations of his family! If you don’t believe me, plant sesame seeds in front of the place where I die. They will sprout within three days. Consider this as proof. Now I am free. Goodbye.”

And with that, she bit off her tongue and died.

Kiku’s mother was anxious, and so she planted sesame seeds as instructed. As promised, they sprouted within three days. And sure enough, on the third day, Kiku appeared to Shuri and declared her grudge, listing all of the ways he had wronged her. Then she said, “I’ll be back,” and left.

After that, Shuri began to babble incoherently, spouting confessions of all the evil things he did and acting like a madman. On the seventh day, he died. After that, Shuri began to haunt his descendants to death.

Shuri the 4th served under Matsudaira Tadaaki at Himeji in Harima Province. Kiku’s ghost appeared before a packhorse driver on a road about 8 km away and said, “I am traveling to Shuri’s estate and would like to borrow a horse.”

The horse driver assumed she was just an ordinary person and refused, saying, “It is almost night, and the way home will be long.”

“I will pay extra,” said Kiku. She offered him 160 mon – double the normal price of 80 mon.

When they arrived at Shuri’s estate, Kiku got off the horse and went inside, and the horse driver asked the servants for payment.

“What are you talking about? You didn’t have anybody on your horse!” said the servants.

The horse driver replied, “Just now I brought a lady here. You have to pay her fare!”

As they argued, a voice came out of nowhere. It was Shuri’s elder servant, ordering them to pay the horse driver: “Kiku has come back. Pay the 160 mon fare.”

After that, Shuri suddenly became ill and, possessed by Kiku, began to babble about the various ways in which she had been wronged by his ancestor. On the seventh day he died.

For four generations, they tried various prayers and exorcisms, but none were effective; each time that a successor was named, Kiku came and killed him.