Furukawa Namazu

Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Furukawa Catfish
Category: Fish


The Myth

In the Furukawa River area of Iguchi, there were many ancient wells whose origins were long forgotten. Each of these wells was said to be home to a great catfish, known as the master of the well.

One day, the young men of the village gathered together and spoke of a plan to catch these catfish. Among them sat a single young man no one recognized, who listened quietly as they talked.

That night, carrying torches, the young men went to the old wells to carry out their plan. Yet when they arrived, something was wrong. Though every well was known to have its master, not a single catfish could be found.

As they searched in confusion, one young man leaned over a large old well. Suddenly, he screamed. Startled, the others rushed to look inside, and there they saw many masters of the wells gathered together in one place.

The strangers’ secret had been revealed. One of the catfish had disguised itself as a human, slipped into the village, and overheard their discussion. The masters of the Furukawa wells had assembled to speak of the danger.

From that time on, it is said that the people of this region never again tried to catch catfish from wells.


Sources

TYZ-Yokai Blog contributors. (n.d.). 一つ目小僧 (Hitotsume-kozo). In TYZ-Yokai Blog, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1010655102.html


Kebō

Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternative name: –
Category: Forest dweller


The Myth

Kebō is a strange yōkai said to have appeared in the fields of Hama in Satsuma Province. It is described as being about the size of a four- or five-year-old child, small but unsettling in form.

Its body is covered in red hair, giving it a wild, unkempt appearance. Kebō has a human-like head and torso, with two arms and four legs, each ending in black, sharp, claw-like tips. Around its waist, thick hair hangs down like a coarse skirt.

Although it resembles a small humanoid, Kebō is also compared to an aged ebi-gani, a creature likened to a shrimp or crab that has lived far beyond its time. This gives it an uncanny, half-human, half-creature quality.

Kebō is said to feed on small fish. It does not cry out or speak, remaining silent at all times. When encountered by people, it does not attack. Instead, it is described as smiling quietly, watching without expression or sound.

Because of its silence, its strange smile, and its unnatural form, Kebō is remembered not as a violent yōkai, but as an eerie presence—one that appears briefly, observes, and disappears without explanation.


Sources

TYZ-Yokai Blog contributors. (n.d.). 化け物屋敷のうわさ (Bakemono-yashiki no Uwasa). In TYZ-Yokai Blog, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1077511760.html


Abumi-guchi

Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Abumiguchi
Category: Object, Yokai


The Myth

On old battlefields where grass grows over rusted iron and forgotten bones, an Abumi-guchi is said to wait.

Long ago, it was nothing more than a stirrup—one of a matched pair belonging to a warrior who rode into battle and never returned. When the fighting ended, the dead were buried or burned, the living went home, and the stirrup was left behind in the dirt, still shaped to bear a foot that would never again step into it.

As years passed, the abandoned object awakened.

The iron frame sprouted coarse fur, and where the foot once rested, a mouth formed—wide, soft, and wordless. Thus the Abumi-guchi was born, a tsukumogami shaped not by malice, but by longing.

Unlike many yōkai, the Abumi-guchi does not roam. It does not hunt, trick, or frighten travelers. It remains where it fell, half-buried in grass or mud, facing the direction from which its master once rode. It waits patiently, endlessly, believing that the warrior will return to claim it.

Those who encounter an Abumi-guchi describe it as gentle and sorrowful. It does not attack. It does not speak. If approached, it merely watches with its hollow mouth, as though expecting a familiar presence. Some say it shifts slightly when footsteps approach, mistaking strangers for its long-dead owner.

The Abumi-guchi is said to endure until it finally decays completely, or until time itself erases the memory of the battle. Until then, it remains a symbol of loyalty without reward—an object bound to a purpose that can never again be fulfilled.

In Japanese folklore, the Abumi-guchi stands as a quiet reminder that even tools can grieve, and that devotion, when left behind, may linger far longer than the lives that once gave it meaning.


Sources

Yokai.com contributors. (n.d.). Abumi-guchi. In Yokai.com — The Japanese Mythology Database, from https://yokai.com/abumiguchi/

Wikipedia contributors. (n.d.). Abumi-guchi. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Abumi-guchi


Azuki Hakari

Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Azukihakari, Bean Counter
Category: Yōkai, Household Dweller, Red beans


The Myth

In the quiet hours after midnight, when houses settle and the world grows still, the Azuki Hakari makes itself known—not by sight, but by sound.

It is said to dwell in rural homes, temples, and old buildings, hiding in attics, ceilings, or garden shadows. No one has ever seen an Azuki Hakari. Its presence is announced only through a sequence of noises that unfold with deliberate precision, as though following a ritual known only to the spirit itself.

An encounter often begins with heavy footsteps above the room, pacing slowly in the narrow space between ceiling and roof. The steps are deliberate, neither hurried nor random, as if someone were measuring the house from above. Soon after, another sound joins the steps: the dry, rhythmic scattering of azuki beans, striking against windows or sliding doors. The sound repeats steadily, like counting—bean after bean—growing louder with time.

As the night deepens, the noises change. The dry patter of beans becomes the sound of splashing water, as though something unseen were washing or pouring liquid nearby. Finally, the rhythm resolves into the unmistakable clack of geta—wooden sandals—walking just outside the room, circling the house.

Those who dare to open the door or window in response are met with sudden silence. The footsteps vanish. The beans are gone. No water remains. There are no tracks, no marks, no sign that anything was ever there.

In older accounts, it is said that the Azuki Hakari may sometimes cause dust or scraps of paper to fall from the ceiling, but it never harms the residents. It does not steal, attack, or speak. Its purpose is unknown. It simply performs its nocturnal counting and departs.

Because the Azuki Hakari is never seen, its true nature remains uncertain. Some believe it is related to other azuki spirits, while others insist it is something separate—an invisible presence made entirely of sound. In many stories, encounters once attributed to river-dwelling azuki yōkai are now believed to have taken place within homes, pointing instead to the silent work of the bean counter.

Thus the Azuki Hakari endures in folklore as a reminder that not all spirits announce themselves with form or violence. Some are known only by rhythm and repetition, by footsteps in the dark and beans that were never there—proof that even an empty house is never truly empty.


Sources

Wikipedia contributors. (n.d.). Azukihakari. In Wikipedia, The Free Encyclopedia, from https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Azukihakari

Yokai.com contributors. (n.d.). Azukihakari. In Yokai.com — The Japanese Mythology Database, from https://yokai.com/azukihakari/


Umibake

Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: —
Category: Yōkai, Sea Serpent, Snake


The Myth

Umibake is a yōkai known only from monster picture scrolls drawn after the Edo period. It appears among collections of strange beings painted together, without a written tale to explain its origin or deeds.

The Umibake emerges upon the surface of the water. Its body is long and slender like that of a serpent, stretching across the waves as it rises. Though its form is aquatic and elongated, its face and the shape of its hands resemble those of a familiar kind of yōkai often seen in monster scrolls, giving it an oddly human presence despite its inhuman body.

No story tells what Umibake does when it appears, nor why it comes forth from the water. It is simply seen there, floating or rising, a quiet and unsettling shape upon the surface of the sea.

Like many yōkai preserved only in pictures, Umibake remains a vision without explanation—its meaning carried only in its form, suspended between water and imagination.


Gallery


Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog contributors. (n.d.). 海化け (Umibake). In TYZ-Yokai Blog, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1036418400.html


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  • How to Invite The Umibake

Uso no Seire

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


The Myth

Uso no Seirei is a yōkai depicted in the Bakemono Emaki (Monster Picture Scroll) preserved in the Kawasaki City Museum.

It appears in the form of a bald monk-like figure. Its face has no eyes, no nose, and no mouth. From where its face should be, long whiskers grow, resembling those of a catfish. The creature wears a kimono patterned with images believed to represent the uso, the bullfinch.

The spirit stands silently, without expression or speech. Its lack of facial features gives it an unsettling presence, as though it exists without identity or emotion. The bullfinch pattern upon its robes marks its nature, binding it to the idea of the uso itself.

Uso no Seirei does not act violently, nor does it chase or attack. It simply appears, featureless and mute, a quiet and uncanny figure among the monsters of the scroll.


Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog contributors. (n.d.). [Title of entry]. In TYZ-Yokai Blog, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1010653494.html


Asukokoko

Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: —
Category: Yokai, Demon


The Myth

Asukokoko appears in an old depiction of the Night Parade of One Hundred Demons. It is not shown as a single body, but as a mass of many monster faces and grasping hands, all emerging from what looks like a drifting black cloud.

The faces leer and stare in different directions, while the hands reach outward as if the darkness itself were alive. There is no clear center to the creature, no fixed form that can be grasped or confronted.

Its name, Asukokoko, is understood to mean “here and there.” The monster is everywhere at once, scattered and unfixed, as though demons were appearing in many places at the same time.

Thus Asukokoko is not a single being that moves through the world, but a presence that manifests wherever fear gathers—faces and hands rising from darkness, here and there, without warning.


Sources

Tyz-Yokai Blog contributors. (n.d.). [Title of entry]. In TYZ-Yokai Blog, from https://tyz-yokai.blog.jp/archives/1010652595.html


Oto Akuka

Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: —
Category: Demon, Cow, Pig


The Myth

Oto Akuka is a demon recorded only once, in a single old Japanese scroll. Beyond this appearance, nothing more is known. There are no surviving stories, no extended legends, and no later mentions of the creature.

In the scroll, Oto Akuka is shown with blue skin and a beast-like face. Its head is bald and crowned with two horns, and its nose appears crushed, giving it the resemblance of a cow or a pig. The demon is depicted kneeling on the ground. One hand is pressed firmly against the floor, while the other supports its body as it vomits.

The image presents Oto Akuka not as a being that attacks others, but as one overcome by what rises within itself. The demon is shown in the moment of release, brought low and humiliated by its own condition. Its punishment is not delivered by an external force, but unfolds openly through its own body, in full view.

Oto Akuka remains an isolated figure in Japanese folklore—a single, unsettling image preserved in a scroll, offering no tale of origin or aftermath, only the enduring vision of a demon brought to shame.


Sources

Youkai Gazou Database. (2007).
鬼;オニ,嘔吐;オウトInternational Research Center for Japanese Studies (Nichibunken). Retrieved from https://www.nichibun.ac.jp/cgi-bin/YoukaiGazou/card.cgi?identifier=U426_nichibunken_0080_0008_0005

Also mentioned in my book Legendary and Mythical Cows


Shiro (Shirodawashi)

Tradition / Region: Japanese Mythology
Alternate Names: Shirodashi, Shirodawashi (White Scrubber)
Category: Mountain Dweller, Cave Dweller


The Myth

Shiro, also called Shirodawashi, was a yōkai known for his beast-like face, hooves, and a kimono patterned with scrubbing brushes. He lived in a cave near a remote mountain settlement and first appeared as a friendly and helpful figure.

A pair of monsters, Mōryō and his wife Ochiyobon, fled from Ushū to the mountains beyond Hakone and settled in a ruined house. Shiro assisted them in establishing their new home, but his friendliness soon revealed another nature. He was a heavy drinker and a troublemaker who repeatedly visited their house, demanding food, drink, and money.

Shiro became infatuated with Ochiyobon and schemed to take her for himself. One day, he borrowed a padded robe from Mōryō and never returned it. When Ochiyobon came to demand its return, Shiro claimed he had pawned it and left to retrieve it. Instead, he went to Mōryō’s shack armed with a blade and declared that Ochiyobon was now his wife. Intimidated and afraid, Mōryō surrendered, giving Shiro all his possessions, including clothing, bedding, and cosmetics.

When Ochiyobon learned what had happened, she was devastated. Shiro responded brutally, declaring that since she was now his wife, she must submit. Other monsters gathered, and even Momojii, the master of the cave dwellings, appeared. Momojii attempted to restore Ochiyobon to her husband, but Mōryō, fearing public shame, refused reconciliation and announced plans to remarry.

Abandoned, Ochiyobon grew close to Momojii, who treated her with kindness. Enraged, Shiro attacked Momojii with an oak log, but Momojii overpowered him with a massive axe and drove him away. To settle the conflict, Momojii arranged for Shiro to marry a beautiful female ghost.

Despite her beauty, the ghost suffered under Shiro’s relentless desire. Unable to endure him, she abandoned her lingering grudge against the living and wished to return to the underworld. When demons arrived to claim her, Shiro fought them fiercely. During the chaos, the ghost passed on peacefully, leaving the demons with no soul to seize. They attempted to drag Shiro to hell instead, but along the way a mysterious boy appeared and gave Shiro demon-slaying sake. The boy revealed himself to be the tanuki Kakubei, who slew the demons.

Grateful, Kakubei asked Shiro to help abduct the daughter of a fox whose marriage proposal had been rejected. Shiro eagerly agreed and joined the tanuki in attacking the wedding procession, successfully capturing the bride’s palanquin. However, he soon encountered Mikoshi Nyūdō, who defeated him and took him prisoner. Impressed by Shiro’s boldness, Mikoshi Nyūdō eventually released him, predicting he might serve a greater purpose someday.

Later, tanuki thieves stole the White Fox Jewel and entrusted it to Shiro. When monsters and foxes came to retrieve it, they heard a woman’s voice from within Shiro’s cave. Ochiyobon emerged, holding a bloodstained knife and the jewel. Having been disgraced and betrayed, she took revenge by killing Shiro and returning the treasure to its rightful owners.

Thus ended Shirodawashi, remembered as a violent, cunning, and lust-driven yōkai whose ambition and cruelty ultimately led to his downfall.


Zarazarazattara

Tradition / Region: Japanese Folklore (Haibara County, Shizuoka Prefecture)
Alternate Names: —
Category: Yōkai / Mountain Dweller


The Myth

In Haibara County, it is told that a man once spent the night alone in a mountain hut, sitting by the hearth to keep warm. As the fire burned low, the hut lay silent except for the crackle of embers.

At one point, the man lifted the straw mat that covered the entrance. Suddenly, a round object—shaped much like a pumpkin—rolled inside the hut and came to rest beside the hearth. Startled, the man stared at it, thinking how unsettling the thing looked.

Before he could act, the round object spoke, saying, “It’s nothing. I am Zarazarazattara.”

The man felt an even deeper unease and thought to himself that he wished he had left the hut earlier. Immediately, the creature replied, “Never mind. I’ll be right there.” Realizing that the being responded to his very thoughts, the man became terrified, knowing that even thinking in silence was no protection.

Trying to act without revealing his thoughts, the man decided to tend the fire. He picked up a piece of firewood and snapped it to add fuel to the hearth. By chance, a fragment of the broken wood flew off and struck the creature where its face seemed to be.

At this, Zarazarazattara cried out, “I never thought of that,” and fled the hut at once, disappearing back into the night.

Afterward, the man was left alone by the fire, shaken but unharmed, and the strange yōkai was never seen there again.


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