Yokai Encyclopedia

A yokai image fixed in medieval narratives: as Minamoto no Raikō lies ill, a monk-like apparition appears at his pillow. When struck, it flees leaving white blood, and following the trail leads to a mound or cave where a giant spider lurks. In Noh it calls itself “the ancient spirit of Mount Katsuragi,” while picture scrolls show it beguiling people with manifold shapeshifts and illusions. Its grotesque form—countless heads and swarms of small spiders bursting from its belly—has been read as a symbol of all manner of demons. Early modern joruri and kabuki inherited this line, tying it to the martial exploits of Raikō’s Four Heavenly Kings. Although the ancient term tsuchigumo once referred to local powers, that lineage diverges from the storybook yokai; only the name was carried over.

Rooted in Muromachi-period picture scrolls, this portrayal centers on tools and household objects that gain spirit through long use. When discarded carelessly, they bear resentment and cause disturbances, yet they can be calmed by Buddhist rites, prayers, or renewed respectful use, and may act protectively thereafter. The number of one hundred years is symbolic, expressing the accumulated time that grants spiritual potency. Their forms vary widely—humanoid, demonic, bestial—with everyday implements such as braziers, washbasins, and sake pourers often depicted transforming. Although the name spread less in the early modern era, tool-spirits continued to appear in Night Parade of One Hundred Demons imagery, reflecting attitudes toward tools and impermanence. Local names are not fixed, and sources chiefly trace to the Tsukumogami picture scrolls and old glosses. The tales avoid fanciful additions, serving as moral lessons urging people to cherish and respect their tools.

Tsukuyomi's Position Among the Three Precious Children. While the basic description touches upon Tsukuyomi's primary myth, this detailed explanation delves into the deity's unique structural position within the "Three Precious Children" (Mihashira-no-uzu-no-miko). The tripartite rule by Amaterasu Omikami (Takamagahara, day, light), Tsukuyomi (Yoru-no-Oskuni, night, moon), and Susanoo-no-Mikoto (the sea, untamed force) established the three domains of day, night, and wild power in ancient Japanese cosmology. However, Tsukuyomi alone has almost no detailed mythological narratives throughout the *Kojiki* and *Nihon Shoki*, disappearing from the center of the story immediately after being entrusted with the "Yoru-no-Oskuni." The discrepancy between the high structural position as the middle child and the sparsity of mythological activity is a major point of discussion in the study of ancient Japanese mythology. The Slaying of Ukemochi — A Contrast with the Kojiki. Tsukuyomi's primary mythological tale, the slaying of the food deity Ukemochi, is recorded only in the *Nihon Shoki* and does not appear in the *Kojiki*. In the *Kojiki*, this identical narrative motif is performed by Susanoo-no-Mikoto against Ogetsuhime. This indicates that ancient Japanese mythology possessed a single narrative template for the "origin of grain = five cereals sprouting from a deity's corpse," which was assigned to different deities (Susanoo vs. Tsukuyomi) in the two texts. The difference in this allocation is a vital piece of evidence for examining the compilation process, variant transmissions, and cosmological consistency of ancient Japanese myths. The editorial intent of the *Nihon Shoki* in assigning the Ukemochi murder to Tsukuyomi is interpreted as an effort to emphasize the connection between the moon and the agricultural calendar. Comparative Religion of a "Quiet Deity". Tsukuyomi's "quiet, reclusive" personality is unique even when compared to lunar deities worldwide. From Selene and Artemis in Greece, to Luna in Rome, the Persian moon god Māh, the Chinese lunisolar calendar, and Korean lunar spirits, moon deities across the ancient world are often depicted as highly active and central figures. In contrast, Japan's Tsukuyomi is rare for having few myths and an emphasized serene, introverted, and mediatory nature. Scholars such as Shinobu Orikuchi and Eiichiro Ishida deciphered this characteristic, concluding that "the Japanese moon deity has a 'watchful' nature," and organized the ancient Japanese relationship with the moon not as one of "direct worship" but as a connection of "quiet watchfulness." Moon and Immortality Beliefs — Okinawa and East Asian Comparisons. Nikolai Nevsky, Shinobu Orikuchi, and Eiichiro Ishida positioned Tsukuyomi's primitive attributes within the broader East Asian beliefs linking the "moon and immortality". In Okinawa and the Ryukyu Islands, there is a tradition of "Sudemizu" (water of molting or rejuvenation), a water of immortality bestowed upon humanity from the moon, indicating a symbolic link between the moon's "molting" (the cycle from full moon to new moon) and immortality/rebirth. Similar "moon and immortality" beliefs are distributed across China, Korea, Mongolia, and Southeast Asia, framing the prototype of Tsukuyomi as a Japanese variation of this widespread belief system. The moon's periodicity, its association with feminine tides, the agricultural calendar, and the mystery of its waxing and waning all multi-layered the ancient faith. Gassan Shrine and Shugendo. Gassan Shrine in Yamagata Prefecture, a former Kanpei-taisha (Imperial shrine, 1st rank), served as the core of the Three Mountains of Dewa (Mt. Haguro, Mt. Gassan, Mt. Yudono) and became a center for mountain worship and Shugendo from the Heian period onward. Mt. Gassan is an extinct volcano standing 1,984 meters tall, where Shugendo practitioners envisioned a "Pure Land where Tsukuyomi resides" at the summit, aiming for the rebirth of the soul through rigorous mountain asceticism. Within Shugendo, Tsukuyomi developed uniquely as a deity symbolizing the "moon of death and rebirth," occupying a significant position within the complex evolution of mountain worship, Shugendo, and Pure Land Buddhism during the Heian, medieval, and early modern periods. Even today, the "Gassan-mode" (pilgrimage to Mt. Gassan) is carried on as a symbolic custom of Tohoku folklore and Shugendo. The Geography of Tsukuyomi Shrines. The enshrinement sites of Tsukuyomi are distributed across four main lineages: (1) Gassan Shrine in Yamagata Prefecture (Tohoku mountain worship); (2) Tsukiyomi Shrine in Kyoto (central Shinto under the ancient Ritsuryo system); (3) Tsukiyomi-no-miya and Tsukiyomi-no-miya as auxiliary shrines of the Inner and Outer Shrines at Ise Jingu in Mie Prefecture (State Shinto and the Ise Jingu system); and (4) Tsukiyomi Shrine in Iki City, Nagasaki Prefecture (the oldest Tsukuyomi shrine in Japan, tracing the Korean Peninsula route). The Kyoto shrine is considered to have derived its spirit from the Iki shrine, serving as valuable folkloric-geographical evidence showing the route through which lunar worship originating from the continent and the Korean Peninsula was transmitted to ancient Japan. This demonstrates that Tsukuyomi worship is not an isolated phenomenon unique to Japan but the result of formation within a broad East Asian network of lunar beliefs. Tsukuyomi in the 21st Century. In postwar Japanese subculture works—such as the *Megami Tensei* game series, *Okami*, and the "Moon Breathing" in the manga *Demon Slayer*—Tsukuyomi's attributes of tranquility, mystery, isolation, and dark-night moonlight have a high affinity with modern character design. The symbolic deity of "night, moon, tides, calendar, and immortality" in ancient Japanese cosmology continues to acquire new meanings in the 21st-century era of globalization, space exploration, and social media. Pilgrimages to Mt. Gassan, Ise, and various Tsukiyomi shrines are inherited today, and the serene, mysterious lunar faith has been deeply rooted in the spiritual culture of the Japanese from ancient times to the present. The fact that the deity with the least mythological activity continues to live on in the most serene form within modern Japanese spiritual culture symbolizes the profound wonder of how mythological culture is passed down.

A traditional reading of the Tsurube-bi based on Edo-period ghost tales and Sekien’s imagery. Told across Japan as a tree-born will-o’-wisp, its bluish-white fire-orbs dangle from branch tips and bob up and down like a well bucket’s pulley, misleading travelers. The flame is weaker than it looks and is said not to catch on clothes or vegetation. Early-modern accounts cite fire apparitions around Saiin in Kyoto, and later yokai encyclopedias file it as a will-o’-wisp akin to Tsurube-otoshi or as a separate kind. Sightings are said to peak on moonless or misty nights; when approached it slips away, when left it drifts back. A shadowed face sometimes appears, causing confusion with hitodama, yet it is remembered as a local, earthbound fire spirit.

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.

An edition based on visual readings of Toriyama Sekien’s Konjaku Hyakki Shūi and related images. Depicted as a human figure in Tang-style robes with a candle set upon a tray or stand on the head. Said to have had the voice destroyed by drugs and the body tattooed, composing poems in tears or fingertip blood in place of speech. Its true nature is not a monster per se but the tragic end of a person enslaved in a foreign land, giving it a strongly narrative character of human ethics and suffering, even while included in yokai catalogs. Details vary by source, yet the figure consistently stands in the night holding a light. Accounts of salvation or death are inconsistent and left unspecified.

A reference version based on images of Ubagabi that appear frequently in Edo-period essays and ghost tales. In Kawachi, an old woman who stole oil from a shrine was said to become a ghostly fire after death, drifting around shrine approaches and village paths on rainy nights. In Tanba, it was tied to water calamities on the Hozu River, feared as lights that swarm over the water. It appears as an orange fireball about one shaku in size, at times bearing the face of an old woman or the shadow of a bird. Contact is an omen of misfortune, though accounts note it can be driven off by calling out or by taboo words. With moral contexts of stolen shrine oil, child abandonment tales, and water disasters behind it, the Ubagabi endured as a ghost-fire embodying regional taboos and faith.

Ubagami is not a mere yōkai, but a divine entity embodying the very structure of Tateyama—a sacred mountain where Hell and the Pure Land coexist. In the Tateyama Mandala, Ubagami is depicted alongside underworld motifs such as Sai-no-Kawara (Children's Limbo), the Sanzu River, and the Blood Pool Hell. She possesses two faces: that of Datsueba, who judges the dead, and that of a savior who sends women off to the Pure Land. From the Middle Ages onward, the Blood Bowl Sutra (Ketsubonkyō) faith propagated the belief that women were destined to fall into the Blood Pool Hell due to the supposed impurity of childbirth. Amidst this profound terror, Ubagami functioned as the sole savior for female believers. It is said that the sixty-six statues lined up in the Ubadō of Ashikuraji reflect the "Sixty-Six Provinces Pilgrimage" (Rokujūrokubu), an ancient practice of dedicating one copy of the Lotus Sutra to each of Japan's sixty-six historical provinces. During the Nunobashi Kanjō-e, the experience of crossing the bridge blindfolded and praying in the darkness is nothing less than a ritualistic death and rebirth—letting one's earthly self die temporarily in order to be reborn anew before Ubagami. The tradition identifying her as the wife of Enma Daio creates a complementary dynamic: while the husband acts as the King of Hell who judges the dead, the wife, Ubagami, serves as the compassionate mother who saves women. This interplay brings a sense of yin-yang balance to the underworld cosmology of Tateyama.

A spirit formed from the regrets of a woman who died in childbirth, said to appear along night roads, crossroads, and riverbanks. Early modern tales and illustrated books depict her with blood soaking her lower body, cradling a baby and asking passersby to mind the child. Outcomes vary: the helper discovers they held a stone or Jizo statue, receives great strength or wealth as recompense, or suffers misfortune such as being bitten by the infant. Regional variants include Fukushima’s “Obo,” where distracting her with a strip of cloth is advised, and Kyushu’s “Ugume,” whose true nature is revealed at dawn. Edo scholars compared her with nocturnal bird-like portents in Chinese records and reasoned that the qi of those who die in childbirth becomes a yokai. Temple and shrine legends tell of salvation through nembutsu or daimoku, linking her to prayers for childrearing and safe delivery. Ubume is both feared and revered, a spiritual figure embodying a mother’s enduring love.

A version that preserves only the appearance seen in early modern picture scrolls. Key features are a horse-like face, cloven deer-like hooves, upturned eyeballs, clothing, and a stance with both forelegs braced. No behavior or abilities are recorded. The name is understood as a visual pun on the written word for “baka” (fool), and any allegory remains speculative. Later embellishments are avoided here; description is confined to the iconography.

Umi-bōzu is a yokai said to embody the fear and unease sailors feel at sea. Its form is not fixed, sometimes appearing as a mere black shadow, other times rising from the waves as a colossal monk-like figure. Tales tell of it approaching boats and whispering, “Lend me oil,” and if given, it ignites flames and sinks the vessel. In more recent lore, it is said to collect sunken boats and nets and stack them on the seafloor, and at times appears holding a glowing bottle or lantern. Both a frightener of humans and a symbol of the sea’s mystery, it is regarded with awe.

A Sea Monk told along the coasts of Kyushu and Shikoku. It appears on boats and asks for a ladle, yet it never climbs aboard from the stern, always emerging at the bow. When it clings to the oar, if the crew keeps rowing, the oar bites in like a blade and it cries out “Aitata!” In Uwajima, many tales say it harms people, yet those who see a Sea Monk are also said to live long lives.

A sea monk told across the Chugoku region. In Nagato it appears to snuff out watch fires, while in Okayama’s Bisan Seto it is called “Nurarihyon,” taking a bead-like form to bewilder people. Along the San’in coast it clings to beachgoers and tries to pull them into the sea. The Tottori collection Inaba Kaidan-shu recounts a one-eyed, post-like sea monk that torments people with its slick, slimy body.

The true identity of Umisachihiko is Hoderi-no-Mikoto, the protagonist of the final section of the upper volume of the Kojiki and the tenth section of the Age of the Gods in the Nihon Shoki (also known as Honosusori-no-Mikoto in the Nihon Shoki). Born in a fire, he is the eldest of three sons of Ninigi-no-Mikoto (the Heavenly Grandson) and Konohanasakuya-hime (daughter of Oyamatsumi-no-Kami). The middle son is Hosuseri-no-Mikoto, and the youngest is Hoori-no-Mikoto (Yamasachihiko). The prefix "Ho" (fire) in all three names stems from the myth that their mother gave birth in a blazing delivery room to prove her purity after a single night's conception. The name "Hoderi" means the most intense stage of fire, while "Honosusori" similarly implies the height of flames. The common name "Umisachihiko" is an occupational title meaning "the male deity who presides over the bounties of the sea," indicating his role as a god of fishing. The core of his story lies in his position as the older brother in the myth of Umisachihiko and Yamasachihiko. Umisachihiko presided over the sea's fish, while Yamasachihiko presided over the mountain's game, each making a living with their respective tools. One day, Yamasachihiko exchanged tools with his brother and went to the sea, but lost the fishhook. The older brother strictly refused, saying, "Return the original fishhook, I will not accept any other," and even rejected a thousand replacement hooks. Yamasachihiko then went to the sea palace of Watatsumi, received the tide-flowing and tide-ebbing jewels, and returned to hand back the hook while chanting a curse. Thereafter, Umisachihiko gradually became impoverished. Holding a grudge, he attacked Yamasachihiko, but Yamasachihiko used the tide-flowing jewel to drown him, then used the tide-ebbing jewel to save him when he begged for his life. By repeating this, he forced Umisachihiko into submission. Umisachihiko finally swore to serve Yamasachihiko eternally as a "person of wazaogi" (entertainer). It is one of the most dramatic sibling tales in the Kojiki and Nihon Shoki, epitomizing ancient curse culture, divine manifestations, and submission rituals. Umisachihiko is positioned as the ancestral deity of the Hayato people in southern Kyushu. The Hayato were indigenous people living in ancient Satsuma, Osumi, and southern Hyuga, who served the court as guards, ritualists, and performers under the Ritsuryo system. The myth of his submission created a decisive asymmetrical structure: Yamasachihiko became the grandfather of Emperor Jimmu (the direct ancestor of the imperial line), while Umisachihiko became the ancestor of the subjugated border people. This is academically interpreted as the political mythologization of the 7th-8th century Ritsuryo state's subjugation of southern Kyushu. The "Ashiura" gestures Umisachihiko made while drowning—rubbing his feet, chest, and cheeks—are said to be the origin of the Hayato-mai, a court ritual. The Hayato-mai was a dance performed by the Hayato for the emperor during the Daijosai, Niinamesai, and New Year ceremonies. The Engishiki records its movements, which are partially inherited by the modern Imperial Household Agency. Thus, his submission myth functioned as the mythological basis for ancient Japanese court rituals. The center of his worship is Ushiodake Shrine (Kitago, Nichinan City, Miyazaki), the only shrine nationwide where he is enshrined as the primary deity. It is said to be located where he arrived after losing to his brother, symbolizing the localization of his legend. The fact that the shrine is located in the mountains, away from the sea, reflects the folklore interpretation of Umisachihiko being "driven into the mountains as a loser" and the geographic distribution of Hayato clans. The asymmetry between Yamasachihiko being enshrined in three major shrines and Umisachihiko in only one vividly reflects the myth's dominance/submission structure in shrine worship. In folk belief, he is deeply worshipped as a local guardian of fishing, maritime transport, and Hayato-lineage clans, especially in southern Miyazaki and Kagoshima. Modern discussions re-evaluate his "tale of the loser," deconstructing the central vs. border dichotomy. In pop culture, he frequently appears alongside his brother as the tragic older brother.

This version is grounded in Toriyama Sekien’s illustration and notes, emphasizing its link to the concept of the demon-revealing mirror. Faces of the uncanny appear on the surface, not necessarily reflecting an external yokai but a spirit residing within the mirror itself. In the lineage of tsukumogami tales, it accords with the belief that long-used implements gain numinous life, sometimes changing mood according to how their owner treats them. Relying on early modern woodblock-book imagery, it has few concrete encounter or harm narratives, and is mostly told in general ghost-story frames such as glimpsing a strange visage when peering into a mirror in a dim room at night. Later depictions of raccoon-dog forms or showy powers are traced to films and children’s books and are set apart from the classical image.

A codified image of the classic Ushi-no-koku mairi centered on Edo-period etiquette. Clad in white burial garb with disheveled long hair, the practitioner inverts an iron trivet as a crown with three candles lit, hangs a mirror on the chest, and moves toward the shrine on single-toothed geta to muffle steps. At the sacred tree, a doll bearing the target’s name is pinned and a five-inch nail is hammered in each night. The witching hour is strictly the third quarter of the Ox Hour, with fulfillment said to come on the seventh night. If witnessed, the rite loses its power, so silence and care to leave no tracks are prescribed. In art, a black ox sometimes accompanies the figure; lore holds that straddling it on the final night brings success, while shrinking back means failure. Straw-doll usage became common in the early modern era, with roots in ancient scapegoat effigy piercings and Onmyodo katashiro rites. Folklore often stops short of asserting curses as real, instead telling that breaking taboos or exposure nullifies the act.

This is the interpretation of the Ushioni depicted in Edo-period yokai picture scrolls and perhaps the most popular in modern yokai encyclopedias: a "sea demon with a cow's head and a spider's body." In this version, the Ushioni visualizes the primal fear of "dark, deep waters" such as seas and pools, combined with the "relentless obsession" of never letting prey escape, symbolized by a spider's web. From a folkloric perspective, the "cow" has been a sacred animal deeply connected to agriculture and flood control in ancient Japan, worshipped as the messenger of water deities, or as the water deity itself (e.g., Gozu Tenno). A prevalent interpretation is that the Ushioni lurking in the abyss is the fallen form of the "fury of nature (water deity)" that people once worshipped and feared, reduced to a yokai as the original faith lost its substance. Its absolute lethality—cursing someone to death simply by licking their shadow—and its cunning in using a Nure-onna as bait to exploit psychological openings surpass the level of a mere low-intelligence beast, strongly retaining the unreasonable divine wrath from when it was a god. Because of its tremendous vitality, driven by malice enough to keep moving even after its head is cut off, ordinary humans cannot hope to stand against it. To quell this overwhelming violence, one had no choice but to either rely on higher Buddhist powers, such as Senju Kannon (the Thousand-Armed Avalokitesvara), or to respectfully incorporate the Ushioni itself into festivals as a vanguard of the portable shrine (a divine familiar), utilizing its "Aramitama" (rough, violent spirit) as a city defense system.

A type shaped by Edo-period print culture, centered on Sekien’s imagery and the psychologized readings in kyoka verse. Rather than a concrete monster, it personifies the feeling of being held back by a tug at one’s trailing hair, dulling decisions through interference from behind. Mizuki Shigeru cites tales from the Tsuyama area that give it a corporeal aspect—ruffling a woman’s hair, breathing hot air—but in all cases it touches from behind and stirs hesitation. It is often grouped with hesitation-inducing yokai such as Okubyogami, Sodehiki-kozō, and Furifuri. Though there are notes of it being enshrined in Ise, specific rites are unknown, and it appears mainly in moral and didactic contexts. Stories survive in both urban and local settings, yet no clear lineage of deity name or object is shown, with wordplay and the concretization of psychology driving its transmission.

A reconstruction based on Edo-period yokai picture scrolls. Depicted with a humanlike face marked by iron-blackened teeth, raising a three-fingered hand, appearing from behind fences or in ruined houses and shouting “uwan.” No early sources clearly state direct harm to people; its main behavior is appearing and intimidating. Because of similar regional names and frequent mansion backdrops, it is sometimes taken as a house-dwelling entity, but this is unproven and the portrayals are spare. Later creative tales—such as being driven off by a retort or killing victims—should be treated separately from the core record.

A reconstruction based on imagery from picture scrolls. It kneels low to the ground, the body slack, skin ashen-brown mottled with pale spots. The face is indistinct, the line between mouth and nose blurred, with a damp sheen. In keeping with rare records that preserve little more than its name, no guiding motive is assigned. Said to be seen as a crouching lump by mountain paths or along thickets, it inspires awe and a sense of distance. If approached, it withdraws before its form can be fixed, making pursuit difficult. No confirmed harm is attributed to it, and encounter tales remain general.

The Void Drum is told as a phenomenon that is sound without form. On Suō-Ōshima’s beaches and capes it is heard most around June, especially from dusk as the wind shifts until midnight. Locals relate it to sea roars and echoes among rocks, recording it as a case where natural sound and a spiritual event are inseparable. Oral lore says a troupe of performers once had their boat swallowed by a storm. They beat their drums desperately for rescue but never returned, and in that season ever after the drum’s resonance rose again over the sea. Some describe the tone as light, rapid strokes like a rope-tension drum, others as a single broad beat like a shrine drum, with reports varying by listener. In some areas people press their hands together to console the sea spirits and avoid treating it as an ill omen. Dates and names are unknown and remain in the realm of oral tradition, yet it stands as a classic sea-village sound apparition.

A reference version reconstructed from 18th–19th century yokai picture scrolls that depict the figure without commentary. Only the massive upper body of a beast is shown, bearing large single hooked claws on each forelimb. Color varies by example from dark green to earth tones, with some renderings appearing amphibian. The name is associated with a word meaning fear and is set alongside Otoroshi in works like Hyakkai Zukan and Gazu Hyakki Yagyo. No behavior, ecology, or moral alignment is recorded, presenting it merely as an eerie presence of the mountains. Concrete folk traditions remain unknown, and later embellishments are excluded for lack of sources.

An interpretation grounded in Toriyama Sekien’s depiction. On night roads and at crossroads, a blazing wheel cruises low to the ground, its axle set with a monk-demon mask that fixes passersby with an unblinking stare. Meeting its gaze or succumbing to fear is said to drain one’s vital spirit, leaving the victim stupefied. Its origins trace to Kyoto wheel-ghost tales and likely overlap with the katagiriguruma motif, yet Sekien adopted a nyūdō mask and fixed it as a male figure. The source is uncertain, defying a firm label as vengeful spirit, tsukumogami, or will-o’-the-wisp. Countermeasures include posting a paper charm reading “This is the village of Katsumo” at the doorway, or avoiding eye contact and hiding. Few variants name specific places or people; the core image remains a plain yokai preserved in classical records.

The *Warei* is an entity that embodies the dynamics of *goryo* belief—where a vengeful spirit transforms into an honorable spirit (*goryo*) and then into a guardian deity—within the early modern history of Uwajima. In life, Yamaga Seibee was a retainer who devoted himself to the reform of domain administration. His unnatural death (the Warei Disturbance) and the subsequent chain of lightning strikes and shipwrecks that struck the participants gave people a tangible sense of a curse. The spirit, initially enshrined out of awe and fear, reversed its nature when his innocence was publicly recognized, acquiring the divinity of 'Warei-sama' protecting fishing and industry. The herd of *Ushi-oni* that parades in the Warei Festival at Warei Shrine is a ritual device to comfort and pacify this *goryo*, showing how monsters (*ushi-oni*) and spirits (*warei*) are inextricably linked in Uwajima's festivals.