Hyogoひょうご

Gozu Tenno (also known as Mutō-no-Kami) is a uniquely Japanese deity whose existence is unconfirmed in foreign lands like India, China, or Korea. Several theories regarding his origin coexist and remain academically unconfirmed: 1) A Buddhist origin theory claiming he is the guardian deity of Jetavana (an ancient Indian monastery where Shakyamuni preached). The name 'Gozu' (ox head) is said to derive from Mount Gośīrṣa in Magadha, India, known for sandalwood, where a guardian named 'Gozu Tenno' was purportedly worshipped. 2) A Korean Peninsula origin theory attributing him to Mount Sudusan, introduced to Japan by ancient Korean immigrants (related to Mount Gozu where Dangun descended in Korean founding myth). 3) A syncretic theory suggesting he is an ancient Japanese immigrant/agricultural deity (the ox being a symbol of farming) reinterpreted through Buddhism and Taoism. Though conclusive evidence is lacking, immigrant influence and his later syncretism with Susanoo-no-Mikoto are the prevailing views from the Middle Ages onward. The core narrative of his worship is the Somin Shōrai legend found in the 'Bingo-no-kuni Fudoki' (compiled in the early 8th century, now surviving only as fragments cited in the 'Shaku Nihongi'). While traveling to the Southern Sea to marry the Dragon King's daughter, Mutō-no-Kami (= Gozu Tenno; 'Mutō' is also theorized to derive from the ancient Indian Maheśvara) sought lodging at the home of the brothers Kotan Shōrai and Somin Shōrai in Bingo Province (modern-day eastern Hiroshima). The wealthy elder brother, Kotan Shōrai, refused him, while the poor younger brother, Somin Shōrai, welcomed him with a humble meal of millet. Years later, Mutō-no-Kami returned with his eight divine children and told Somin Shōrai, 'Wear a woven reed ring (chinowa) around your waist and chant "I am a descendant of Somin Shōrai" to escape the plague,' before departing. The next day, Kotan Shōrai's entire family was wiped out by the plague, while Somin Shōrai's family survived thanks to the chinowa. This is the origin of the 'Amulet of Somin Shōrai's Descendants' (an amulet placed at doorways) and the 'Chinowa-kuguri' (a purification ritual held at the end of June), rituals still performed at Gion shrines, Tenno shrines, and Ise Jingu nationwide. Kyoto's Yasaka Shrine (formerly Gion Shrine / Kanjin-in Gion Shrine / Gion Kanjin-in) is the hub of Gozu Tenno worship. The shrine's history holds multiple theories: 1) Founded in 656 by the Korean envoy Irishi, who enshrined Susanoo from Mount Gozu (most plausible); 2) Enshrined by Ennyo, a monk from the southern capital, in 876; 3) The Imperial Court began praying at Gion during the great plague of 869 (the origin of the Gion Goryo-e). Ranked among the twenty-two elite shrines during the Heian period, the Gion Shrine became the most critical religious center for the Imperial Court, nobility, and Kyoto's citizens. The Gion Festival was established in 869 as a ritual for Gozu Tenno (= Susanoo) to ward off plagues and is one of Japan's three major festivals (alongside the Aomori Nebuta and Awa Odori). When a massive plague swept Kyoto and the nation in 869, the Imperial Court ordered prayers at the Gion Shrine. They created 66 halberds (hoko) representing the 66 provinces of the time to gather the plague gods, then banished them to Shinsen-en (modern-day Nakagyo-ku, Kyoto) — an event known as the 'Gion Goryo-e.' It evolved through the medieval and early modern periods, establishing the Yamahoko float procession, folding screen displays, and Yoiyama eves during the Muromachi period. It is now a month-long summer hallmark of Kyoto and was registered as a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage in 2009, representing the pinnacle of Kyoto's tourism resources. Among other major centers of Gozu Tenno worship, Hiromine Shrine (Hiromineyama, Himeji City, Hyogo Prefecture; supposedly founded by imperial decree of Emperor Shomu in 733, with alleged involvement by Kibi no Makibi) claims to be the 'Head Shrine of Gozu Tenno,' asserting that Kyoto's Gion Shrine was established as a branch of Hiromine. However, due to lengthy medieval and Edo-period disputes over hierarchy among Kyoto's Gion, Hiromine, Tsushima, and Yasaka, the academic consensus on the 'true head shrine' remains undetermined. Tsushima Shrine (Tsushima City, Aichi) serves as the core of Gozu Tenno worship in the Tokai region, with its Tenno Festival (August) being one of Japan's three major river festivals. The countless shrines nationwide bearing the names 'Tenno', 'Yakumo', 'Gion', 'Susanoo', or 'Hikawa' demonstrate the vast spread of Gozu Tenno worship. With the Shinto-Buddhism Separation Order of the Meiji Restoration (1868) and the abolition of Shugendo (1872), the Buddhist title 'Gozu Tenno' was banned, and all Gozu Tenno, Tenno, Gion, and Kanjin-in shrines were forcibly renamed as shrines dedicated to Susanoo-no-Mikoto. Kyoto's Gion Kanjin-in became 'Yasaka Shrine,' while local shrines were renamed to Yasaka, Susanoo, Hikawa, or Gion shrines. However, commoners retained colloquial names like 'Tenno-san' and 'Gion-san,' and folk customs such as passing through the chinowa, the Somin Shōrai amulets, and the Gion Festival persisted seamlessly. During the modern COVID-19 pandemic (2020-), the Gion Festival and chinowa rituals regained attention, reawakening memories of Gozu Tenno as the deity of plague dispellment. In folklore and religious history, he is positioned as 'the greatest victim of the Shinto-Buddhism separation.'

Okiku of Sarayashiki is an onryō shaped as a haunting of repetition: she counts the missing plate forever. Her terror lies first not in what she looks like, but in her voice and in the numbers. In the dark, she murmurs "one plate... two plates..." When she reaches nine and arrives at the plate that is not there, she releases a scream of unbearable force. This structure of absence and repetition is the core of the Sarayashiki stories. The audience knows that the ninth plate is coming, and shrinks from it before it arrives. Okiku's resentment erupts from the injustices imposed on the vulnerable in early modern society: false accusation, difference in status, and the arbitrary power of the ruling household. Here the two traditional lines and the modern adaptation must be kept sharply distinct. First is the Banshū line: set in Himeji, it draws Okiku into Aoyama Tetsuzan's plot to seize the household. Through Machitsubo Danshirō's scheme, she is accused of losing one of the treasured plates, tortured to death, and thrown into a well. Second is the Banchō line: at the Edo Ushigome mansion of the hatamoto Aoyama Shūzen, the maid Okiku breaks a plate, or refuses her master's illicit desire, and is killed or driven to throw herself into the well. In both lines, this is the "ghost Okiku" fostered by early modern kaidan, kōdan, and jōruri. Quite separate from these is a third layer: Okamoto Kidō's Banchō Sarayashiki (Taishō 5, 1916). Kidō did not write it as a ghost story, but as a modern drama, a work of shin-kabuki. He set aside the household-intrigue plot and remade the story as a love affair across status lines between the hatamoto Aoyama Harima and the lady-in-waiting Okiku. In this version, Okiku deliberately breaks a treasured plate to test Harima's love. When Harima learns the truth, anger at having his sincerity doubted drives him to cut her down. No ghost appears here; the tale is transformed into a tragedy of love and human psychology. In other words, the "ghost Okiku who counts from the well" belongs to early modern kaidan, while Kidō's Okiku is a distinct literary creation reinterpreted by a modern intellectual. The two should not be confused.

The Seven Generations of the Gods and the cosmology of creation. The basic account covers land-birth and god-birth. Looking more closely, the Seven Generations of the Gods form a creation sequence in their own right. The Kojiki says that after heaven and earth open, the three creator deities and the Separate Heavenly Deities appear, followed by the divine generations beginning with Kuni-no-tokotachi. The line moves from solitary, abstract deities toward paired gods, then finally reaches Izanagi and Izanami as husband and wife. Myth moves from abstraction into relation, sex, marriage, and birth. Their marriage and the birth of the land are the decisive passage from divine potential into a concrete world. The Floating Bridge, the jeweled spear, and Onogoro Island. The scene in which the two gods stand on the Floating Bridge of Heaven and stir the sea with Ame-no-nuboko is one of the most important images in ancient Japanese cosmology. The bridge joins heaven and earth as a vertical world axis. The spear is an instrument of creation. Brine hardening into an island marks the passage from liquid to solid, from formlessness to form. Onogoro Island means something close to an island that congealed by itself, suggesting that creation is not only divine command but also natural self-formation. The scene can be read beside Pangu's separation of heaven and earth, the Indian cosmic egg, and Eurasian myths of stirring primordial waters. The descent to Yomi, an early East Asian Orpheus myth. Izanagi's descent to Yomi, his broken taboo, and his flight from the dead belong to the mythic type in which someone enters the underworld to recover a lost wife and fails after violating a prohibition. The Greek story of Orpheus and Eurydice is the most famous example, while Izanagi's version, written in the Kojiki in 712, is one of East Asia's earliest textual witnesses to the type. The stolen glimpse, the broken command, the pursuing dead, and the protective peaches all echo underworld narratives from India, China, and Europe, suggesting deep affinities across ancient Eurasian religious imagination. Misogi, the origin myth of Shinto purification. After escaping Yomi, Izanagi washes away its pollution at Awagihara. This is the origin myth of misogi and harae. Gods are born as he removes garments and objects from his body; sea deities are born as he washes in the stream; finally, the highest deities emerge from his eyes and nose. The structure binds body, impurity, purity, and divine birth together. The hand-washing before shrine worship, the Nagoshi no Oharae summer purification, and ritual ablutions before major ceremonies all find a mythic source here. Eda Shrine and Izanagi Jingu honor him as the ancestral deity of purification, showing how an ancient myth continues inside living Shinto practice. The Three Precious Children and ancient Japan's cosmic order. Izanagi divides the sky, night, and sea among the Three Precious Children. Amaterasu Omikami receives Takamagahara, the realm of heaven, daylight, and light. Tsukuyomi no Mikoto receives the realm of night, quiet, and calendrical rhythm. Susanoo no Mikoto receives the sea plain, the ocean and its violent force. This threefold division is not only a mythic plot point. It later supports the legitimacy of the imperial line and Ise Shinto. Medieval, early modern, and modern political thought in Japan repeatedly return to this narrative. It is a central line running through Japanese ideas of state, religion, and cosmic order. Taga Taisha, Izanagi Jingu, and Eda Shrine. The three major sacred places of Izanagi correspond to different moments in the myth. Izanagi Jingu in Awaji marks the beginning of land-birth, the marriage of the two gods, and Izanagi's hidden palace. Eda Shrine in Miyazaki marks Awagihara, purification, and the birth of the Three Precious Children. Taga Taisha in Shiga became a popular early modern shrine of long life and vitality. Together these sites turn the sequence of creation, purification, and longevity into geography and pilgrimage, sustaining Izanagi worship across Japan. Motoori Norinaga's Kojiki-den and the formation of kokugaku. Motoori Norinaga, the Edo-period kokugaku scholar, completed the forty-four-volume Kojiki-den in 1798, using rigorous philology and historical linguistics to interpret the Kojiki, including the myths of Izanagi. Debate continues over whether such myths should be read as history, symbolic narrative, or cultural memory, but Norinaga's method laid an important foundation for modern Japanese humanities. Izanagi therefore extends beyond myth alone. He belongs to the intellectual history of kokugaku, Shinto, modern national thought, and postwar folklore studies, and remains a symbolic figure in Japanese religion, scholarship, politics, and culture.

The cycle of birth and death: the nature of an ancient mother goddess. The basic profile described Izanami's mythic role; the deeper issue is that she embodies birth and death in a single archaic mother figure. Izanami gives birth to the Oyashima islands and thirty-five nature deities, and even on her deathbed continues to produce gods of mines, earth, and grain from her vomit, urine, and excrement. This resembles the ambivalence of mother goddesses across the ancient world, such as Gaia in Greece, Inanna in Sumer, or Kali in India: the one who gives life also contains death. Izanami is more than a creator deity. She joins birth and death, the living world and the underworld, purity and pollution into one Japanese variation of the archaic mother goddess. Kagutsuchi's birth and the symbolism of fire. Izanami dies because she gives birth to the fire god Kagutsuchi, an event of major symbolic force in ancient Japanese cosmology. Fire begins civilization: forging, pottery, cooking. Yet fire also brings destruction and death. In ancient societies, childbirth itself could threaten a woman's life, and the myth binds those dangers together. Kagutsuchi is born, Izanami dies, and from her dead or dying body arise deities of mines, earth, and grain. This chain makes the material foundations of civilization, metallurgy, agriculture, land-making, emerge from the sacrifice of the mother goddess. The myth gives a stark expression to an ancient worldview: civilization stands on the body of the mother. Yomi no Kuni and the queen of the dead. After burial, Izanami reigns as queen of Yomi no Kuni. This is an unusual structure in ancient myth. Chinese underworlds are often ruled by male figures such as Fengdu or the Lord of Mount Tai; India has Yama, and Greece has Hades. In Japanese myth, however, the realm of the dead is ruled by the former creation goddess. Izanami's rule over Yomi shows the close ancient Japanese linkage of woman, death, and underworld. Later images of Enma, Jizo, and the Sanzu River grow in soil prepared by this imagination of the dead. The idea of death as a feminine principle is one of the most striking points for comparative religion. The burial debate: Izumo and Kumano. The Kojiki names Mount Hiba, on the Izumo-Hoki border, as Izanami's burial place, while a variant in the Nihon Shoki names Kumano in Kii. The two traditions map onto two religious geographies. The Izumo line, Shobara in Hiroshima, Yasugi in Shimane, and Higashi-Izumo in Matsue, connects with Izumo ritual lineages and faith in Ne no Katasukuni. The Kumano line, Hana no Iwaya in Mie and Kumano Hayatama Taisha in Wakayama, connects with Kumano Sanzan worship, Fudaraku sea-crossing beliefs, and Pure Land imagination. Izumo lies to the north, facing the Sea of Japan; Kumano lies to the south, facing the Pacific. Together the two burial traditions form a core problem in the religious geography of ancient Japan. Hana no Iwaya Shrine and ancient iwakura worship. Hana no Iwaya Shrine in Kumano, Mie, is named in the Nihon Shoki as Izanami's burial place and is one of Japan's oldest shrines; it has no shrine hall and worships a forty-five-meter sacred rock as its divine body. Iwakura worship is an old Japanese mode of nature veneration in which trees, boulders, waterfalls, and mountain peaks are treated as places where divine spirits dwell. Later shrine architecture grew out of such natural sacred places, and Hana no Iwaya preserves an especially ancient layer by having no main building. The Otsunakage rite, held on February 2 and October 2, hangs a rope about 170 meters long from the sacred rock to the precincts; it is a rare living folk practice that carries ancient rock worship into the present. "One thousand a day, fifteen hundred a day": the cosmology of life and death. The exchange at Yomotsu Hirasaka is the moment when Japanese myth fixes the order of life and death. Izanami says she will kill one thousand people a day; Izanagi answers that he will cause fifteen hundred to be born. The scene is grief after marital separation, but also a cosmic declaration that death and life, underworld and this world, feminine and masculine principles will stand in permanent tension. Death counts one thousand; birth counts fifteen hundred. Life exceeds death. That inequality becomes a religious expression of life's continuation. Japanese myth does not remain a simple tragedy; it turns the dialectic of life and death into cosmology. Izanami reevaluated in the twenty-first century. Postwar feminist myth studies and cultural criticism have moved beyond reading Izanami only as a victim of patriarchal myth. They also understand her as an embodiment of the ancient mother goddess who unites birth, death, and the underworld. Motoori Norinaga's Kojiki-den, completed in 1798, laid the philological foundation; later comparative mythologists such as Orikuchi Shinobu, Obayashi Taryo, and Yoshida Atsuhiko added new interpretive layers. In the twenty-first century, Izanami is no longer merely a mythic character. She has become an image of the feminine root of Japanese myth and of cosmic order as mother, continuing to shape religion, scholarship, and cultural imagination.

"Ebisu" as an Ancient Japanese Belief in the Sea and the Otherworld. While the basic description touches upon the two major origin theories of Ebisu, a thorough analysis reveals the deep layers of "Ebisu" as an indigenous ancient Japanese belief in the sea and the otherworld. The fact that "ebisu" and "emishi" share the same etymology indicates that ancient Japanese collectively referred to beings arriving from "beyond, the otherworld, or boundaries" as "ebisu," finding abundance, fortune, and auspiciousness in them. As a representative example of the "visiting deity (Marebito)" belief systematized by Shinobu Orikuchi, it forms the core of widespread otherworldly and abundance beliefs in ancient Japan. The Hiruko Myth ── The Narrative Archetype of Deformity, Exile, and Rebirth. The Hiruko myth passed down in the *Kojiki* and *Nihon Shoki* (a deformed child set adrift in a reed boat who is reborn as a deity of abundance in a foreign land) is a representative example of the narrative archetype of "deformity, boundaries, and rebirth" in ancient Japan. The process by which Hiruko washed ashore in Nishinomiya and gained the reverence of fishermen to become Ebisu is the result of this universal religious motif uniquely developing in connection with Japan's indigenous marine and fishing culture. The Kotoshironushi Myth ── The Origin of Ebisu in the Land Transfer Myth. Kotoshironushi, the eldest son of Okuninushi, is a crucial deity who negotiated with Takemikazuchi on his father's behalf in the land transfer myth. The process of Kotoshironushi, who was fishing at Mihogasaki, hearing of the messenger's arrival and advising his father to accept the transfer is a religious expression of the political integration of the center (Amatsukami) and the regions (Kunitsukami) in ancient Japan. The concrete image of a fishing deity flowed directly into the later iconography of Ebisu holding a sea bream and a fishing rod. Coexistence of Two Major Origin Theories ── Hiruko and Kotoshironushi Lineages. The fact that the two major origin theories—Hiruko (Nishinomiya Shrine lineage) and Kotoshironushi (Miho Shrine lineage)—coexist and have been passed down without being completely unified demonstrates the flexibility and plurality of Japanese religious culture. The Edo period Seven Lucky Gods faith integrated both lineages under the common name "Ebisu-sama," and the common people affectionately embraced him as the "god who brings business prosperity and fortune" without strictly distinguishing between the two. Sea Bream, Fishing Rod, Smile ── Medieval and Early Modern Iconography. The modern image of Ebisu (sea bream, fishing rod, smile, ori-eboshi, kariginu) is a culmination of unique designs established in medieval and early modern Japan. (1) The sea bream is a symbol of ancient Japanese fishing, commerce, auspiciousness, and the color red. (2) The fishing rod is a symbol of ancient fishing, rituals, and the Kotoshironushi myth. (3) The smile (Ebisu face) is an expression of gentleness common to gods of fortune since the Middle Ages. (4) The ori-eboshi and kariginu visually emphasize Ebisu's uniqueness as a "fortune god unique to Japan." Toka Ebisu ── The Festival Culture of Edo Period Commoner Faith. The Toka Ebisu in Kansai (January 9-11) is a representative Ebisu festival established in the Edo period, held on a large scale at places like Imamiya Ebisu, Nishinomiya Shrine, and Kyoto Ebisu Shrine. The accompanying chant "Bring a bamboo branch for business prosperity" and the conferment of lucky charms like the fuku-zasa support the collective prosperity prayers of merchants, restaurants, and individual worshipers. Ebisu in the 21st Century ── Urban Culture and Modern Prosperity Prayers. Today, Ebisu is widely embraced as the principal deity for Japanese commerce, dining, fishing, navigation, and new business prayers. The place name "Ebisu" around Ebisu Station in Shibuya, Tokyo, originated from the YEBISU Beer factory in the Meiji era and enjoys nationwide fame as a symbolic name for modern urban culture and commercial districts. Repeatedly reshaped in subculture works, he represents a prime example of ancient marine and otherworldly beliefs transforming into a modern Japanese pop icon.

Aramitama Ideology and the Duality of Japanese Religion. While the basic description touches upon Kojin's two main systems, this thorough explanation delves deeper into the "Aramitama" (rough spirit) concept and the dualistic structure of Japanese religion. Ancient Shinto understands deities on an axis of "Nigimitama" and "Aramitama," recognizing that a single deity possesses both an aspect of a gentle savior and that of a raging curse-bringer. The Nigimitama gently protects people, while the Aramitama brings curses and disasters; ritually balancing the two is viewed as the religious goal of purification. The Kojin faith represents the extreme realization of this option to "worship the Aramitama independently." It holds a paradoxical structure: by fearing and worshipping a terrifying deity, its violent power is transformed into a protective force for the community. This is a variation of a universal structure in East Asian religious culture, comparable to the City God (Cheng Huang) in China, local deities in Korea, and spirit worship in Southeast Asia. Yaksha Origins and Esoteric Syncretism. Sanbo Kojin is a composite deity that incorporated the form of ancient Indian Yaksha spirits, blending elements of Buddhism, Shinto, mountain asceticism, Esoteric Buddhism, and Onmyodo. In ancient Indian mythology, Yakshas were semi-divine, semi-demonic beings guarding forests, mountains, and treasures; upon entering Buddhism, they were recontextualized as protectors of the Dharma (such as the retinues of Vaisravana). The process by which this merged with Japanese hearth and fire worship to become Sanbo Kojin is a prime example of the dynamism of Buddhism's reception in ancient Japan. The three-faced, six-armed wrathful statue, adorned with flaming hair, fangs, and carrying a bow and arrow, is the result of the fusion between its Yaksha roots and ancient Japanese demon-god imagery. The Religious Economy of Ascetics, Onmyoji, and Monks. The nationwide spread of the Sanbo Kojin faith during the Edo period was driven by the active proselytization of religious groups like Shugendo ascetics, Onmyoji, and lower-ranking monks. Operating outside the institutional structures of major temples and shrines, they made their living by offering prayers, fortune-telling, distributing talismans, and presiding over festivals for local communities. By preaching devotion to Sanbo Kojin, issuing talismans, and organizing rituals, a social system was built that supported the economic foundation of these wandering ascetics. The religious history of medieval and early modern Japan must be understood not just as a history of changing doctrines, but as concrete social history encompassing religious economy, the hierarchy of practitioners, and negotiations with local communities—with the spread of Sanbo Kojin serving as a typical case. The Seto Inland Sea Cultural Sphere and Kagura Theater. Bitchu Kagura in Okayama Prefecture originated as a ritual to "invite Kojin and dance before him," earning the alternative name "Kojin Kagura," and was designated a National Important Intangible Folk Cultural Property on February 24, 1979. In the late Edo period, the scholar Nishibayashi Kokukyo composed mythological plays (Shin-no) such as "The Transfer of the Land by Okuninushi," based on the Nihon Shoki and Kojiki, incorporating them into the rituals and thereby establishing the modern form of Bitchu Kagura. This is a symbolic example of how classical mythology and local Kojin faith heavily intertwine in the Seto Inland Sea cultural sphere. It preserves a unique theatrical culture where national deities (Susanoo, Okuninushi), Kojin, and local gods appear together as an integrated pantheon on the Kagura stage. Since ancient times, the Seto Inland Sea has been a maritime trade route with the continent and the Korean Peninsula, a center of Shingon Esoteric Buddhism, and a vast cultural region where local Shinto traditions—such as those of Izumo, Kibi, and Sanuki—have densely intersected. Ji-Kojin and Village Communities. The outdoor Ji-Kojin possesses a different origin story than the indoor Sanbo Kojin. Worshipped by individual households, kin groups, or small settlements—often using the estate's demon gate, village borders, or mounds beneath large trees as vessels—Ji-Kojin acts as a guardian of community boundaries, land, and ancestors. The dense concentration of Ji-Kojin worship in the mountain villages of the Chugoku region and the islands of the Seto Inland Sea has functioned as a mechanism to religiously reaffirm the hierarchical order of families, small settlements, and villages. The festival dates of the 28th of every month, January, May, and September hold social significance beyond simple religious rituals, acting as social time to confirm the solidarity of community members. Gyuba Kojin: The Industrial Aspect. A third system of Kojin that has garnered folkloric attention is Gyuba Kojin (the Kojin protecting cattle and horses). Tied to the history of using cattle and horses as primary sources of power for farming and transport in the mountain villages of Chugoku and Shikoku, the custom of affixing Kojin talismans in stables and praying for the animals' health during spring and autumn festivals was widespread. This reflects the religious life of pre-modern farming villages, where livestock were not mere economic assets but were religiously positioned as members of the family and community. With the advance of mechanization and modern power sources, Gyuba Kojin worship rapidly declined, but numerous ritual artifacts remain preserved in museums and local history centers across Chugoku and Shikoku. Re-evaluation in the 21st Century. In post-war Japan, folklorists such as Kenichi Tanigawa, Noboru Miyata, and Kazuhiko Komatsu advanced academic re-evaluation of Kojin worship, repositioning it as "the representative of Japan's indigenous local deities." In literature, Miyuki Miyabe's novel *Kojin* (Asahi Shimbun Publications, 2014) explored the deity, becoming a widely read narrative that cross-pollinated Edo-period local Kojin faith with modern societal anxieties. Today, in the 21st century, Kojin festivals and Kagura are inherited as intangible folk cultural properties throughout the Seto Inland Sea, Chugoku, and Shikoku regions. It remains one of the few "active" folk deities living on across academia, literature, and regional folklore. Homes enshrining Sanbo Kojin are still numerous, serving as precious embodiments of folkloric continuity.

Based on the image of a castle-deity linked to Himeji Castle’s main keep, centered on the kimon northeastern quarter. Known as Osakabe as well as Koshogobu or Shogobu, she appeared through the early modern era as a shifting “castle specter” before settling into the form of an aged princess or female apparition. Her pedigree ties to shrine relocations during construction and the founding of Hattendo, understood as a spiritual force intervening in the castle’s ritual order. She sees into human hearts, sometimes proving herself by producing tangible tokens such as combs or helmet scales, and is also recorded to assume a grand oni-like form in response to prayers or provocation. Her true nature is variously attributed to an ancient fox, the castle’s tutelary deity, an unknown noblewoman’s spirit, or a human sacrifice legend, with no single origin fixed. She protects when the lord governs justly and brings calamity when order falters, embodying a guardian of the boundary between castle and community.

An image systematized from Toriyama Sekien’s iconography and the Heike Monogatari’s accounts of the uncanny. Multitudes of bones unite into a single giant skull, its countless sockets facing the living as if to pierce them. Individual dead bear no names; their fused gaze is read as a trial of the powerful. It appears most at daybreak or in hushed gardens, amplifying fear through sheer visual pressure. The countermeasure is to hold steady and return its gaze. Ritual banishments are poorly attested, and some speak of it as a kind of psychic vision. Said to be memory given form from mass deaths in war and upheaval, its size shifts with the onlooker’s nerve.

Academic Correction (Most Important Note for this Species): The monsters included in the "Mei" volume of Toriyama Sekien's *Konjaku Gazu Zoku Hyakki* (1779) are Nue, Itsumade, Jami, Moryo, Mujina, Nobusuma, Nozuchi, Tsuchigumo, Hihi, Dodomeki, Buruburu, Gaikotsu, Tenjo-sagari, Ohaguro-bettari, Okubi, Dodomeki, Kanedama, and Amanozako (18 entities in total), and Tsurube-otoshi is not included. What Sekien drew was the related yokai Tsurubebi, which was included in *Gazu Hyakki Yagyo* (1776) — the predecessor to Zoku Hyakki. The original text for Tsurubebi is Yamaoka Genrin's *Kokon Hyaku Monogatari Hyoban* (published in 1686; the "Tsurube-oroshi of Nishinooka" tale in Nishiyama, Kyoto), which theorized the strange phenomenon of a large tree's spirit turning into a fireball and descending from the tree on rainy nights using the Five Elements theory (Wood generates Fire). In other words, the "Yokai Tsurube-otoshi (a severed head or demon mask falling from a tree)" and "Sekien's Tsurubebi (a mysterious fire dropping from a large tree)" are separate lineages that diverged after the Showa era, and Sekien did not directly depict the former. No primary visual sources with the name "Tsurube-otoshi" from the Edo period exist, and it mainly appears as local folklore in Taisho period topographical records and folklore collections. This is a critical correction that must be specified to maintain the academic quality of yokai.jp, and the widespread "1779 Sekien iconification theory" should be explicitly denied. The primary records of Tsurube-otoshi are Taisho period local materials and folklore collections. The Kyoto regional study *Kuchidanba Kohishu* (a Taisho era collection of folklore from Minamikuwada and Funai Districts) serves as the core historical document, recording it as a local legend of mountain roads, passes, and old trees in the Chubu and Kinki regions. The fact that the primary source is not Edo period iconography but local folklore oral collection is a unique characteristic of this yokai, making it an exceptional case that does not fit the generalization that "yokai originate from Edo period iconification." The local folklore of Tsurube-otoshi is concentrated in the Chubu and Kinki regions: 1. Kyoto Prefecture — Hoki, Sogabe Village, Minamikuwada District (present-day Sogabe-cho, Kameoka City; drops from a kaya tree, laughs "Finished your night work? Shall I drop the bucket? Squeak, squeak" and rises again), Tera, Sogabe Village (a severed head descends from an old pine, devours people, and disappears for 2-3 days when full), Tomimoto Village, Funai District (present-day Yagi-cho, Nantan City; a pine tree covered in ivy), Tsuchida, Ooi Village (present-day Ooi-cho, Kameoka City; eats people) — documented in the Taisho period regional study *Kuchidanba Kohishu*. 2. Kuze Village, Ibi District, Gifu Prefecture (present-day Ibigawa-cho) — drops a bucket from a large tree that is dim even during the day. 3. Hikone City, Shiga Prefecture — drops a bucket from tree branches aiming at passersby. 4. Kuroe, Kainan City, Wakayama Prefecture — similar lore. 5. Tamba-Sasayama City, Hyogo Prefecture. 6. Mikawa mountainous region, Aichi Prefecture (folklore in Toyone Village, etc.). It has a geographic characteristic of concentrating around ancient trees (pine, kaya, cedar, zelkova) along mountain roads, passes, and shrine grounds in the Chubu and Kinki areas. Its behavior is bifurcated by region: The Kyoto lineage is predatory (eating people and staying full for 2-3 days), making it a lethal yokai; the Gifu-Shiga lineage is intimidating (only dropping a bucket to scare people), causing little real harm. The Kyoto lineage features a specific predatory pattern of "not appearing for 2-3 days when satiated," and was feared as a murderous monster rather than a mere scarer. On the other hand, the Gifu-Shiga lineage, as its name suggests, simply drops a "tsurube (well bucket)" from a tree to startle people, a relatively harmless yokai positioned between a "supernatural threat" and a "laughing matter." Despite sharing the name "Tsurube-otoshi," the entity itself varies significantly depending on the region, providing an excellent example of the regional diversity of local legends. The modern visual of a "red-faced, bearded, disheveled old man's head" depends heavily on Shigeru Mizuki's artwork and is not the original standard form in local folklore. The original form varies widely by region, splitting into three lineages: 1. A solitary severed head (Tera, Sogabe Village, Kyoto), 2. A formless monster that drops a well bucket itself (Gifu and Hikone, Shiga), and 3. A spirit type accompanied by laughter and speech (Hoki, Sogabe Village, Kyoto). The image of the "red severed head" was popularized through Shigeru Mizuki's manga and anime such as *GeGeGe no Kitaro* and *Akuma-kun*, becoming fixed as the modern general image, but from a folkloric perspective, the standard form changed pre- and post-Mizuki. This is also a perfect illustration of the decisive impact "Mizuki Yokai Culture" had on Japanese people's perception of yokai. The idiom "autumn days drop like a tsurube" (a metaphor comparing the rapid darkening of the autumn sunset to the motion of a well bucket and rope plunging down at once) has no direct lineage connection to the yokai Tsurube-otoshi. They share the same metaphorical source of "a well bucket = something that falls rapidly," but the idiom was established independently as a meteorological expression. However, the fact that the concept behind the yokai's naming (the three elements of falling speed, darkness, and surprise) stands on the same metaphorical foundation as the idiom is noteworthy in cultural history — demonstrating the richness of Japanese metaphorical culture, where an everyday tool like a "well bucket" evolved into both a meteorological phrase and a yokai name. Distinctions from similar yokai: 1. Tsurubebi (the mysterious fire dropping from a tree in Sekien's *Gazu Hyakki Yagyo*, which, as mentioned, is the Edo period origin lineage that diverged from Tsurube-otoshi in modern times), 2. Kodama (tree spirits in general; Tsurube-otoshi is an "individual monster dwelling in a specific ancient tree," a variant of the kodama lineage), 3. Kosoma (an acoustic supernatural phenomenon making axe and falling tree sounds in the mountains, different in nature from Tsurube-otoshi which primarily relies on visual dropping attacks), 4. Severed head lineages (Otoshikubi, Kubikireuma, etc.; they share the "head" aspect, but the Kyoto lineage's severed head in Tsurube-otoshi is an independent yokai entity, not a monster of decapitation). Toriyama Sekien's four-part yokai series consists of *Gazu Hyakki Yagyo* (1776) -> *Konjaku Gazu Zoku Hyakki* (1779) -> *Konjaku Hyakki Shui* (1781) -> *Hyakki Tsurezure Bukuro* (1784), and all images are publicly available on the National Diet Library's NDL Image Bank. Tsurubebi is included in the "In" volume of *Gazu Hyakki Yagyo*. When listing Tsurube-otoshi on yokai.jp, it should be clearly stated that typeOfSource = "Local folklore (Chubu/Kinki)" and firstAttestedSource = Taisho period *Kuchidanba Kohishu*, while explicitly denying the widespread misinformation of the "Edo period Sekien iconification theory." In modern yokai culture, it was popularized by Shigeru Mizuki's *Yokai Zukan* and the bronze statue on *Mizuki Shigeru Road* (Sakaiminato City, Tottori Prefecture), and appears as a Kyoto yokai in *GeGeGe no Kitaro* (3rd season VA: Masato Hirano, 5th season: Hisao Egawa) and *Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan*. As an excellent example of a grassroots yokai originating from local oral tradition being popularized by Shigeru Mizuki's artwork, Tsurube-otoshi is an important case study showing the modernization mechanism of Japanese yokai culture — a fascinating yokai situated at the intersection of folklore studies, art history, and media theory, demonstrating a modern yokai circulation route from unillustrated Edo period local folklore to Taisho period oral collection, Mizuki's popularization, and modern anime and games.

A collective term found in early modern anecdotes and essays for possessions by the vengeful spirits of horses. It warns against violating precepts against killing and neglecting animal care ethics, with triggers including abuse, death from overwork, and callous disposal. Symptoms include neighing, involuntary movements of the limbs, craving foul water, self-biting, reports of seeing as a horse sees, and voicing curses against abusers. The possessing agent may be the spirit of a specific horse or generalized as retribution within the realm of beasts. Recorded remedies include esoteric rites, posthumous memorial services, tending graves and making offerings, though efficacy varies by case. Cases appear in Mikawa, Tōtōmi, Awa, Musashi, and Harima, affecting horse-handlers, samurai, and farmers. While some tales are highly embellished, overall they function as didactic narratives promoting animal memorials and ethics.

At the core of Abura-bō is the guilt of misappropriating oil meant for temple and shrine lamps, manifesting as a spirit flame. Early modern records and local lore place its appearances around the foothills of Mount Hiei and temple precincts across Ōmi, most often from dusk to midnight in late spring through early summer. It takes the form of a small orange to yellow fireball, or the shadow of a monk cradling an oil jar, following a set course over gates, halls, and pond embankments before vanishing. Its voice is uncertain, though some regional tales mention indistinct murmurings. Names vary by area—“Abura-bō,” “Oil Thief,” “Oil Returned”—all carrying a folk warning about taboos surrounding oil and the need for proper rites. Specific individuals or temple names differ across sources, but the strict management of lamp oil in temple society likely fostered these tales. Methods to calm it include sutra chanting, burial of offerings, and restoring lamp offerings, though no fixed formula is known.

A depiction of the Dancing Head based on scenes found in classical ghost stories and collections of strange tales. A powerful will from life takes form, with only the head detaching and swelling as it appears. It opens and closes its mouth to moan, laugh, or chatter its teeth, emphasizing an auditory menace. Direct physical harm is not always clear, yet it is said to bring misfortune such as falls from fright or sudden fever. Sightings cluster at old temples, graveyards, crossroads, and at the foot of bridges, places where human presence thins or around the hours of a wake. Lineage or personal names are rarely specified, and the strangeness of the incident itself is what lingers in the telling.

The figure of the kugutsu performer is distilled in accounts of a perpetual wanderer who appears at shrine fronts and market squares with the seasons and festivals, showcasing many arts such as puppet play, comic turns, sword dances, and sumo. Old records note mastery of archery and horsemanship, juggling two swords, manipulating seven balls, and astonishing onlookers by making wooden figures dance. Female performers, known as kugutsume, excelled in song and dance and were linked to ideas of purification. In later eras they were tied to temple and shrine guild quarters, joined troupes praising Ebisu and puppet guilds, and are regarded as forerunners of sarugaku, kagura, and puppet theater. Some received patronage from court and samurai, contributing to the transmission of songs and narrative arts. As a yokai, they are told of as liminal wanderers who appear suddenly at village borders or before shrines, offer their art, leave lucky coins or a patter of words, and vanish. Folklorically they are noted in relation to outcaste status, guild systems, and ritual entertainment, understood—without embellishment—as mediators whose itinerant arts bridge the human world and the otherworld.