Mythology!

Sansho-birashi

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Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Sansho Kurage
Category: Demon

The Myth

Among the women divers of Shima, who for generations descended into the sea to gather abalone and seaweed, there were stories of a feared presence beneath the water known as the Sansho-birashi.

When the divers worked along the reefs, they sometimes felt a sudden sting, sharp as a needle. At first it was only a small pain, but soon it spread through the body, tightening the chest and making it hard to breathe. Some said the shock could even cloud the mind, leaving the diver confused or helpless in the water.

In earlier times, such attacks were believed to be the work of a demon that lurked among the reefs. The creature was said to be small and difficult to see, nearly transparent, hiding where the seaweed cast shadows. It struck silently and vanished just as quickly.

Because of this, divers took precautions. They crushed the leaves of the sanshō plant and smeared the sharp-scented juice across their skin before entering the sea. Others tucked sprigs of sanshō into their hair as charms, believing the plant’s power would repel the unseen attacker.

Another creature feared in the same waters was called the Sansho Kurage, a jellyfish-like being said to drift beneath seaweed beds. Its sting was said to bring burning pain and fever, and it too became part of the stories told among the divers before they slipped beneath the waves.

Even as time passed and people learned ways to treat the stings, the name Sansho-birashi remained, a reminder that the sea was never empty, and that unseen things could still wait among the rocks for those who entered their realm.

Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog. (n.d.). Sanshō-birashi. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1056156792.html

Basho no Sei

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Tradition / Region: Chinese Mythology, Vietnamese Mythology
Alternate Names: Basho Essence, Banana Spirit, Plantain Ghost
Category: Plant

The Myth

In old stories it is said that even plants may awaken into spirits if they endure long enough in the world. Among the most well known of these is the Basho no Sei, the spirit of the bashō, or plantain tree.

When a banana plant grows old and stands for many years, people believed it could gather strange energy from wind, rain, and moonlight. Over time, this energy would give rise to a spirit within the trunk and leaves. At last, the tree might shed its stillness and take on a ghostly life of its own.

Such spirits were said to appear most often in the form of a woman. In Chinese tales, the banana essence sometimes took human shape to approach travelers or householders at night. Some versions say it deceived people with beauty and soft speech, only to bring harm once it had drawn close.

One story tells of a young monk studying late into the night in a quiet temple in Shinshu. As he read, a beautiful woman entered and spoke gently to him, trying to charm him with her presence. The monk sensed something unnatural and grew angry. Grasping a short blade, he struck at her, and she fled into the darkness, leaving a trail of blood.

At dawn, the monk followed the drops of blood into the courtyard. There he found that the temple’s plantain tree had been cut deeply into its trunk, and its sap ran down like the blood he had seen. From this he understood that the visitor of the night had been the spirit of the bashō itself.

Such tales spread across lands and generations, and people came to say that the banana plant, though soft and harmless in appearance, might hide a spirit if it lived long enough. For this reason, groves of old plantains were sometimes regarded with caution, as places where a quiet tree might one day step into the world in human form.

Sources

Wikipedia contributors. (n.d.). 菟菟鬼. In Wikipedia. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://zh.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E8%8A%AD%E8%95%89%E9%AC%BC

Hayauri-dokke

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Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Poisoned Melon of Seimei, Snake Melon
Category: Plant, Snake

The Myth

On the first day of the fifth month, during a time of ritual austerity for the regent Fujiwara no Michinaga, several notable men were gathered in seclusion. Among them were the onmyōji Abe no Seimei, a learned monk, a court physician, and the warrior Minamoto no Yoshiie.

That day, a tribute arrived from Nara — a gift of early melons. Yet because the court was observing strict ritual purity, doubt arose about whether the offering should be accepted. Michinaga ordered that the matter be divined, and Seimei was asked to determine whether the fruit was safe.

After examining the melons, Seimei declared that one among them carried danger. To confirm this, the monk began to chant prayers over the fruit. As his voice continued, one of the melons began to move on its own, swaying slightly as if something inside it stirred.

The physician was then ordered to treat the melon. He lifted it, studied it carefully, and without a word inserted two needles into its rind. At once the movement ceased.

Finally, Minamoto no Yoshiie was told to open it. Drawing his sword, he split the melon cleanly in two. Inside, coiled tightly in the flesh, was a small snake. The needles had pierced both of its eyes, and Yoshiie’s cut had neatly severed its neck.

The gathering understood that the fruit had concealed a hidden danger, and that only careful divination, prayer, and skill had revealed and destroyed it.

Another tale tells of a similar event at the imperial court, when melons sent from Yamato were examined by Seimei, a physician, and a monk. They too sensed an unnatural force within the fruit. As prayers were spoken, one melon split open, and a snake longer than a foot burst forth, dying at once.

Such stories spread widely, and the strange melons became known as signs that even the simplest offering from the earth might hide unseen forces within it, revealed only by wisdom, ritual, and a steady hand.

Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog. (n.d.). Hayauri-dokke. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1084458875.html

Hitogataimo

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Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Ningyoimo, Doll Potato
Category: Plant

The Myth

Among the foods said to nourish those who walk the path of immortality, there is a mysterious root known as the Hitogataimo, the Doll Potato. It was counted among the natural foods favored by hermits and ascetics who lived in the mountains and sought long life beyond the ordinary span of humans.

These seekers of immortality gathered their sustenance from the wilderness — nuts, herbs, mushrooms, and roots — believing that untouched natural foods carried the pure strength of heaven and earth. Among these, some were said to take on strange and meaningful shapes. One such wonder was the Doll Potato.

The root was said to resemble a tiny human figure, as though the earth itself had shaped it in the likeness of a person. Because of this form, it was thought to hold unusual vitality. Those who found it treated it with care, believing that it was not an ordinary food but something touched by the same mysterious forces that grant long life to immortals.

Stories say that hermits who discovered such a root would dry it, preserve it, or consume it in ritual fashion. Eating it was believed to strengthen the body, purify the spirit, and bring one closer to the hidden state of transcendence sought in the mountains.

Thus the Hitogataimo remained known as one of the secret foods of the immortals — a root shaped like a person, growing unseen in the earth, waiting for the one destined to find it.

Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog. (n.d.). Hitogataimo. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1074589195.html

Corn Spirit

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Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Nanban Millet, Korean Millet, Chinese Millet
Category: Plant, Corn

The Myth

Corn was brought to Japan long ago by ships arriving from the southern seas. First planted in Kyushu, it gradually spread across the country. Because of its foreign origin, people called it Nanban millet, linking it to distant lands beyond the horizon.

As it became more common, strange stories began to gather around the plant. Some fields were said to grow ears with kernels so large they seemed unnatural, as though the crop had taken on a life of its own. In one tale, a lotus flower bloomed from a cornfield in memory of a girl whose devotion had outlived her death, and the field was said to hold her spirit. In another story, a stalk of corn bent and twisted until it resembled a farmer’s beloved chicken, as if the plant were trying to imitate the living creature it had watched each day.

Because of such occurrences, people in some regions grew wary of planting corn near their homes. Certain families believed the crop brought misfortune, and in a few places it was said that only particular households — or those bearing certain surnames — must never grow it at all.

Artists and storytellers also imagined the crop taking on more visible forms. In popular illustrated tales and games, corn sometimes appeared as a yōkai. One well-known depiction shows a ghost shaped from corn rising from a riverbank, confronting a murderer as though the plant itself had taken the role of an avenging spirit.

So corn, though an ordinary food, came to be remembered in story and image as a plant touched by the uncanny — a foreign grain that could grow strangely, take on forms of memory and emotion, and even appear as a spirit among the living.

Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog. (n.d.). Corn Spirit. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1067224019.html

Ghost Shimeji

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Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Transforming Shimeji, Phantom Shimeji
Category: Plant, Mushroom

The Myth

In the mountains near Shiroishi, there once stood a small, poor temple where a priest lived alone. The forest around it was deep and silent, and few people ever came that way.

One night, after the priest lay down to sleep, he noticed movement in his room. A group of figures had appeared, all dressed in white kimonos and white hats. They walked in a slow circle around his bed, again and again, without speaking. Terrified, the priest pulled his futon over himself and watched through a small gap, hardly daring to breathe.

Only one of the figures made a sound. As the group circled, that person repeated in a low voice, “Salt and miso, how frightening… salt and miso, how frightening…”

The same thing happened the next night. And the night after that as well. Each time the silent procession returned, circling his bed while the same voice muttered its strange warning.

At last, the priest resolved to discover who they were. Before sleeping, he prepared a needle threaded with string and kept it hidden beside him. When the figures appeared again, he quietly reached out and stitched the thread into the hem of the robe of the one who spoke of salt and miso.

Soon after, the figures left as always.

The next morning, the priest gathered the thread and began to follow it. It led him out of the temple, through the forest, and into a grove of towering cedars. There, behind the temple grounds, stood an enormous old stump. All around it grew countless clusters of shimeji mushrooms, packed so thickly they seemed to cover the wood like a living carpet.

The priest understood then that the white-clad visitors had been these mushrooms in disguise. They had come each night hoping he would eat them, for it was said that if salt or miso were sprinkled on shimeji mushrooms, they would stop growing.

And so the priest left the forest undisturbed, knowing that the silent guests of the night were not spirits of the dead, but mushrooms seeking a place at his table.

Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog. (n.d.). Ghost Shimeji. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1013072022.html

Alruinmannetje

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Tradition / Region: Dutch Mythology
Alternate Names: Galgenmannetje, Pismannetje, Alruin
Category: Plant

The Myth

The Alruinmannetje is said to be the root of the poisonous mandrake plant, shaped vaguely like a tiny human figure. Because of this form, people believed the plant was not merely a root but a being with a spirit living inside it.

It was feared above all when pulled from the earth. The Alruinmannetje was said to scream with such a terrible, piercing cry that anyone who heard it would fall dead on the spot. Only those who managed to survive this dreadful moment could claim the root. If they then treated it well — giving it a small bed, dressing it in cloth, and feeding it milk and food — the spirit within would become loyal to its keeper.

Once cared for properly, the Alruinmannetje was believed to whisper secrets to its owner and reveal hidden knowledge. It could also bring wealth. At night, it would fetch money for the household, and coins placed beside it in the evening would be found doubled by morning.

The root was sometimes called Pismannetje because people believed it sprang from the urine of a freshly hanged man beneath the gallows. From this grim origin, the plant gained its connection to death, magic, and the unseen world.

In Friesland, the name Alrún was also used for a witch from Raerd who possessed the power to heal people and lift enchantments, showing how the name of the root became linked not only to a plant, but to human magic as well.

Sources

Abe de Verteller. (n.d.). Van aardmannetje tot zwarte juffer: Een lijst van Nederlandse en Vlaamse elfen en geesten. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://abedeverteller.nl/van-aardmannetje-tot-zwarte-juffer-een-lijst-van-nederlandse-en-vlaamse-elfen-en-geesten/

Daigo Hakurō

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Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: —
Category: Wolf

The Myth

In the mountains of Daigo in Yamashiro Province, many wolves were said to roam, troubling travelers and woodcutters who entered the forests.

One day a young boy went into the mountains to gather firewood. As he worked, a wolf suddenly appeared, seized him, and carried him deep into the wilderness. When the wolf reached a grassy place, it set the boy down. Realizing he could not escape by force, the boy pretended to be dead.

The wolf clawed open the earth and dug a large pit. It pushed the boy into the hole and buried him beneath the soil. Yet each time the boy tried to move, the wolf returned to sniff the ground, guarding its hidden prey. At last, when the wolf seemed satisfied and went away, the boy dug himself free and climbed a tall tree nearby, hiding among the leaves to watch.

After some time, the wolf returned — this time accompanied by a great white wolf, far larger than the first. Together they dug open the pit, only to find it empty. The first wolf ran about in agitation, howling in anger, never suspecting the boy above them. At length it lowered its ears, bowed its head, and crouched before the great white wolf as if in shame.

The white wolf stood still for a time. Then it rose and struck the other wolf upon the head with its paw.

The punished wolf remained crouched and motionless. Evening fell, and the boy stayed in the tree through the night. By morning, passing woodcutters came near, and the boy cried out to them, asking for rescue and warning that a wolf sat below.

The men rushed forward with axes and blades, but the wolf did not move. When they approached, they found it already dead. Its skull had been crushed, and its head lay broken open.

When the boy told what he had witnessed, everyone was astonished. They praised his quick thinking and spoke of the strange justice of wolves, recalling the old saying that even tigers and wolves possess a sense of duty.

Thus the tale was told as proof that even among beasts, there can be order, judgment, and punishment.

Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog. (n.d.). Daigo Hakurō. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1074589299.html

Shōben-no

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Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: —
Category: Wolf

The Myth

In Kotonan Town of Kagawa Prefecture, charcoal burners working deep in the mountains lived in simple huts far from villages. At night they relieved themselves in buckets kept as makeshift toilets beside the huts.

Yet many mornings the buckets were found strangely empty.

People said that in the dark hours a creature known as the Shōben-no- came creeping out of the forest. Silent and unseen, it approached the huts and drank the urine left in the containers. No one ever clearly saw it, but its presence was taken for certain, for the buckets never remained full overnight.

Some believed the being was not a yokai at all, but a wolf in disguise. Wolves, it was said, craved salt, and the taste of urine drew them from the mountains. Across the region stories spread of wolves licking urine barrels or creeping near homes in search of the salty liquid.

To keep the creature away, some people moved their toilets indoors or placed them in courtyards. Others left salt outside in hopes of satisfying the animal before it came closer to the house.

In some places it was said that wolves which drank urine became dangerous and might attack people. In others, they were believed to do so only when sick, seeking the liquid as a cure. One tale tells that when a wolf repeatedly came to drink from a household’s bucket, the family prayed to the deity Gion-san, and after the prayers the visits ceased.

Thus the Shōben-no- remained a shadow of the mountains — perhaps a yokai, perhaps a wolf — known only by the emptied buckets it left behind.

Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog. (n.d.). Shoben-no. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1010654291.html

Kintakakō

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Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: —
Category: Dog

The Myth

In the Saigo region of Miyazaki Prefecture, people once believed that certain invisible spirits could possess human beings. Among these were snake gods, Inari spirits, dog spirits, and a more powerful presence known as the Kintakakō.

Dog spirits in the region were thought to be unseen by ordinary eyes. Some said they appeared like rats, snakes, or dogs with forked tails. These spirits could be sent against a person out of jealousy, hatred, or rivalry. Those who were weak in body or spirit — the elderly, the sick, or pregnant women — were especially vulnerable.

When such a spirit entered someone, the person might suddenly lose their senses while walking along the road. They would shout strange words, speak wildly, or collapse before recovering as if nothing had happened. Others suffered joint pain, fever, or lingering illness. People believed these afflictions were the work of dog spirits directed by hostile families.

The Kintakakō were said to be similar to these dog spirits but of higher rank and greater power. They were feared because they were said to bite their victims. A person possessed by one was called a kazemochi. The condition was believed to run in families, passed down through bloodlines. Children under the influence of a Kintakakō were said to speak boldly and strangely, uttering words no child should know.

In nearby districts, certain priests known as Hijirigami were believed able to drive these spirits away. Some people described the possessing being as a small animal the size of a kitten. A household that secretly kept such a creature might prosper, for it was believed to harm enemies and steal fortune from others on behalf of its master.

Thus the Kintakakō was feared both as a curse and as a dangerous blessing — an unseen dog spirit whose bite could bring madness, illness, or hidden wealth, depending on whose command it obeyed.

Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog. (n.d.). Kintakakou. Retrieved March 1, 2026, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1085598002.html