Tonight’s story depicts a legendary ritual known as “the shrine visit at the hour of the ox.” This ritual is famous today for being a curse ritual. It is performed by jealous or jilted lovers who want revenge — either against the former lover who betrayed them, or against the person who stole their lover from them. The hashi hime of Uji, Kyoto is a famous example of someone who used this ritual to powerful effect.

To perform this ritual, one dresses up like a ghost: wearing a white burial kimono, and carrying a light source on their head (usually in the form of candles stuck onto an upside-down trivet, or holding a torch in their mouth), and wearing tall geta sandals. The ritual is performed at the hour of the ox, which equates to between 1 to 3 am in western time.

While this ritual is known today as being a curse ritual, long ago it wasn’t restricted to curses. The shrine visit at the hour of the ox was originally performed for very strong, sincere wishes, like the one we see in the story below. For an extra powerful dose of magic, you can perform it during the year of the ox, during the month of the ox, on the day of the ox, and at the hour of the ox — but you’d have to have time on your side to get such a perfect line up.

The Woman Who Every Night Visited Usa Hachiman in Buzen Province

In Buzen Province, about 2 kilometers north of Usa Hachiman-gu Shrine, there is a mausoleum. There is a rumor that a henge comes here every night. One night, a group of young men gathered there and asked, “Who wants to go and see it?”

But not one of them said they were willing to go. Among them was a brave samurai who said, “I will go,” and, boasting about his courage, went off to the mausoleum all by himself. He sat in the shadow of some trees and waited for the henge to arrive.

It was dark and rainy, and it could not have been any more creepy. Just then, he saw a faint light floating towards him from about 1 kilometer away. “Aha!” he thought, and loosened the bindings on his sword and waited for it to approach. The light grew closer until it was seven to nine meters away. Looking closer, there appeared a woman of around 20 years in a burial kimono, her disheveled hair reaching all the way to the ground, wearing an iron trivet with candles on it on her head and tall wooden sandals on her feet.

The samurai thought he would cut her down and discard the body, but then he remembered that he was here to investigate, so he waited off to the side and observed. The woman entered the crematorium, burned something for a while in the embers, then came out and went back to the road to leave.

The samurai wondered what she was up to and went to stop her. He grabbed her tightly from behind, and the woman said, “Oh how sad… now my wish will not come true.”

The samurai was startled, and said, “So, you are human! Tell me what you are doing!”

The woman replied, “I am ashamed to say this, but my husband, due to some karmic causality, has been suffering from a horrible illness, and all treatments have had no effect. In my grief, I fasted in prayer at Usa Hachiman-gu for seven days. At dawn on the seventh day, Lord Hachiman appeared to me in a dream and instructed me: ‘For one thousand days, at the hour of the ox, go to the graveyard and eat mochi baked in the embers of the cremated dead. Your husband will then fully recover from his terrible illness.’ Since then, I have done as instructed and come to this mausoleum every night for the past three years. In four or five days my wish would have been fulfilled, but grievously it has all been in vain. Please help me. I am no monster.”

Hearing this, the samurai said, “Well, there’s no mistake; you are a human. I will help you. But first, to prove to everyone that I was here…” And he grabbed a fistful of the woman’s hair and cut it off.

Then he went back to the inn and told everyone, “I captured the henge and subdued it, then in exchange for its life, I cut its hair and came back here.” And he threw the fistful of hair at them, and they were all amazed.

I’m back from Kyoto’s Uzumasa film studio. It was an exhausting event, but really fun! According to the studio, it was the greatest attendance the park has seen in 20 to 30 years! This just goes to show the international appeal of yokai, and how they’ve become a major tourism force in recent years, especially during the Halloween season.

Tonight’s A-Yokai-A-Day is another story featuring poetry, and like the previous story about poetry, I have to grumble a bit about translating Japanese poems into English.

The poem in this story comes from a famous piece of Japanese literature witten over 1000 years ago: Makura sōshi. The poem describe’s a fisherman’s boat returning home:

“I see someone rowing on the sea; a fisherman returning with his catch.”

However, the monk in this story recites this story using homophones that change the meaning entirely:

“I see something I yearn for in the embers; a frog hanging in the rain.”

The poem works like a magic spell, with the power to recall the spirit back to wherever it came from. It’s a testament to the monk’s wisdom and wit that he able to find the right classical poem and extract a line from it, changing its meaning to apply to this particular situation.

It’s not an easy reference to get. There’s no way to translate it into English in a way that retains the reference, and it doesn’t make much sense without an idea of how highly regarded poetry has been throughout much of Japan’s history, that it should have such an effect on evil spirits. So I hope you can enjoy the story better with this little cultural note.

The Apparitions in Yoshida Sōtei’s House; or, The Power of Poetry

In Murakami, Echigo Province, there was a wealthy merchant named Yoshida Sōtei. Strange apparitions suddenly began appearing in his house.

On the first day, four or five cute chigo appeared in the northwest corner of his warehouse and sang an unfamiliar song for a while, then vanished. The next day, at dusk, a handsome samurai appeared with six others. They all drew swords and fought, and everyone was killed. Upon inspection, they all had turned into ashes. On the third day, a beautiful lady around 16 years old, her head covered in a light kerchief, made a showy entrance, spread her fan and performed a popular dance, and then vanished into thin air.

Sōtei was worried about this, and asked high priests and monks to perform various exorcisms and prayers for him. This perhaps had some effect, as nothing happened for four, five, or six days afterwards; but on the seventh day, when a fire was lit in the sitting room hearth, a single tree frog appeared in the fire. Everyone was startled, and they took the frog out of the fire and released it, but then another one appeared in the fire, and then another, and it never stopped. Sōtei was so distressed that he called a certain pious Zen monk and asked him for help. The monk, seeing the situation, faced the hearth and recited a single poem:

“I see something I yearn for in the embers; a frog hanging in the rain.”

The frog vanished, and nothing strange happened again. This is truly the power of waka poetry.

I was at Kyoto Toei Film Studios all day today for the KaiKai Yokai Festival, so tonight’s write-up will be brief… Thanks to everyone who came to my booth at the festival today!

Tonight’s story is for all the readers who have been outraged at all the stories about samurai killing tanuki, foxes, and snakes so far. Tonight the animals get their revenge!

The Tanuki Who Summoned 25 Bodhisattvas

In eastern Ōmi, there is a place called Sakōtō Village. Deep in the mountains, there is a temple. Whenever the priest of this temple would visit the village, a tanuki would follow him and steal his food to eat.

One time, the priest picked up a mochi-shaped stone in Yokawa and took it home, roasted it on his hearth, and waited for the sun to set. Just as he expected, a tanuki came and started searching for food in the usual places.

“If you stop stealing from now on, I will give you a present,” said the priest. Then he picked up the roasted stone with fire tongs and tossed it at the tanuki. When the tanuki grabbed it and tried to eat it, it suffered severe burns and ran away.

Afterwards, the idol on the altar would sometimes glow with a bright light. The priest thought it was a holy sign, and he became even more devout.

One night, the Buddha appeared to the priest in a dream and commanded him, “When you wake up from this dream, you should throw yourself into the fire and attain buddhahood. I will then come for you and take you away to the Western Pure Land.”

The priest woke up and, thinking it was a holy sign, told everyone around, “On an appointed day, I shall walk into the fire and leave this world. Come and witness!”

Everyone around wept and said, “Oh my, what an admirable thing.”

When the day came, a huge crowd of worshippers from all over the country gathered, all of them waiting to see the coming of the Buddha. The priest had built a 1.8 meter square stone fire pit and stacked it full of charcoal and firewood. Wearing new white robes and a kerchief, he climbed onto the pyre and began to pray. Sure enough, around noon, from the west came a procession led by the Buddha triad of Amitaba, Kannon, and Seishi, followed by 25 other bodhisattvas playing the shō and hichiriki, and giving off shining light.

“Light the fire!” said the priest.

The fire was lit, the pyre went up in flames, and the priest burned to death. Meanwhile, the procession of buddhas revealed their true form and burst out in roaring laughter. Everybody was shocked to see two or three thousand old tanuki running off into the mountains. The tanuki that was burnt by the stone got its revenge.

Tonight’s yokai is a famous one that has appeared not only on yokai.com and A-Yokai-A-Day before, but even in Shokoku hyakumonogatari. Although she is not referred to by name in this story, Osakabe hime is the spirit who inhabits the top floor of Himeji Castle’s keep. According to legend, she appears to the lord of the keep once per year and foretells the castle’s fortune. She considers herself the lord of the castle, and demands the appropriate respect for her position.

I like this story. She seems like a pretty chill yokai, and is even kind to the novice samurai who screws up and has to come back and ask her twice — although it feels like there’s an underlying menace to her calm demeanor, like she is toying with the boy. Then she makes herself known to the lord and shows him who is the real boss. Very cool.

This story mentions the Japanese word zatō, which is a word I’ve chosen not to translate. Zatō make lots of appearances in yokai lore, so readers may be familiar with them already. But just in case, I’ll refer curious readers to this post from a previous A-Yokai-A-Day that talks about zatō in detail.

The Bakemono of Himeji Castle, Banshū

One night, Lord Hidekatsu of Himeji Castle in Harima was bored, so he gathered all of his retainers and said, “Every night, a light appears on the fifth floor of this castle. Is anyone among you willing to go and check it out?”

However, nobody would accept his challenge. Just then, a samurai of 18 years said, “I will go and see.”

“Then, I will give this to you to use as proof,” said the lord, and he handed over a paper lantern. “Light this with the light from the castle and then come back.”

The samurai took the lantern and climbed up the castle’s tower. There was a 17 or 18 year old noblewoman wearing a 12-layered kimono, alone by a lamp. She asked the samurai, “Why have you come here?”

The samurai replied, “I have come on my lord’s orders. Please light my lantern with your lamp,”

The noblewoman said, “As it was the lord’s command, I will permit you.” And she lit the lantern for him.

The samurai was pleased and left, but when he reached the third floor, the light went out. He went back a second time and said, “I’m so sorry but the light went out. Please light it again.”

The noblewoman changed the candle for him and lit the lantern, then said, “Let this be another sign of proof.” And she gave him one of a pair of two combs. The samurai was delighted. He went back to his lord and showed him the lit lantern. Hidekatsu thought this was marvelous and tried to extinguish the light, but it would not go out. When the samurai put the light out, it went out.

“Now then, did anything else strange happen?” asked Hidekatsu.

The samurai retrieved the comb. When Hidekatsu examined it, he saw that it was the comb he had placed in his armor chest. Curious, he checked inside of his armor chest and discovered one of the two combs he had placed in there was missing.

After that, Hidekatsu decided to go and see for himself, so he climbed up the castle tower alone, but all he found was a lamp and nothing else. He waited for some time, and then a zatō appeared.

“Why have you come?” asked Hidekatsu.

“I thought you would be lonely, so I came here,” replied the zatō. “I cannot open the lid of my koto box.”

“Come here and I shall open it for you,” said Hidekatsu.

When Hidekatsu placed his hands on the koto box, they became stuck to it and he could not let go.

“Curses, it was a trick!” he exclaimed, and he tried to smash the box with his feet; but his feet became stuck too.

Then the zatō turned into a kijin around three meters tall, and said, “I am the lord of this castle. If you mock me or fail to respect me, I will rip you into pieces right now!”

When Hidekatsu surrendered and made his submission abundantly clear, the box detached itself and dawn broke. What he thought was the fifth floor of the castle turned out to be Hidekatsu’s own reception chamber.