Mountains & the Wild

A white thing writhing far out in the rice field on a windless day; look at it long enough to understand what it is and you stop being able to think.

A red-robed monk who turns up in three unrelated stories — a stolen temple bell, a court omen, and a lantern on the shore.

A dog that walks the mountain path behind you: stay on your feet and it sees you home, stumble and it is on you.

A toad the size of a boulder in the Suō hills that does not chase anyone — it simply breathes them in.

Something small and dog-shaped that winds between your shins on a wet Okayama road until you stop walking.

The spirit of a banana plant that takes a woman's shape on rainy nights and speaks to whoever answers.

A house deep in the mountains with the kettle still boiling and nobody in it; take one bowl home and your family never wants again.

A mountain spirit that appears only on clear days and simply cannot be seen when it rains.

A giant, tattered zatō who haunts Edo's back streets on stormy nights, always bound for the same brothel to play his shamisen.

A clawed thing that peers down through the skylight on the one night you are required to stay awake.

A shrimp-like thing with scissor claws that snips mosquito nets and fishing nets with equal joy.

A hairy mountain hag who spins a whole night's worth of hemp thread in a single breath.

The idler's yokai: a man who did nothing with his life, reborn as a thing that licks lamp oil and does nothing still.

A monk who peers up through the privy floor on New Year's Eve—unless you say his name first.

A one-eyed, hairy mountain child—the kappa's winter form—that helps loggers in exchange for food.

A faceless figure that stops a traveler, drops its robe, and reveals a shining eye where its anus should be.

A monstrous head that plummets from treetops to snatch anyone passing beneath at night.

A horse's head that dangles from an old hackberry tree, neighing to frighten passersby.

A mountain ape-yokai that sucks a sleeper's breath: noticed, you live long; unnoticed, you die.

A single flaming wheel carrying a tormented woman; to glimpse it is to invite doom.

A ghostly ox-carriage bearing a huge, glaring face that drifts through misty nights.

A thick, mallet-shaped snake with a gaping mouth that rolls down slopes at travelers.

A voice that suddenly bellows 'Uwan!' from an empty, dilapidated house—and nothing more.

A small ball of shaggy hair that lurks in damp corners and brings illness where it settles.

Unseen footsteps that follow you at night; say 'please, go ahead' and they pass you by.

A swarm of eyes that opens across the torn paper screens of a neglected room.

A colossal giant whose footsteps shaped Japan's lakes, hills, and valleys.

A ghostly fire-breathing chicken whose cold flames give no heat.

A harmless boy yokai who trots through the rain carrying a block of tofu.

The spirit that dwells in an old tree; felling its host brings misfortune.

A small mountain spirit blamed for the echoes that answer you in the hills.

A hairy, tusked guardian beast that perches on shrine gates to punish the irreverent.

A flaming ox-cart wheel bearing the face of a tormented monk that rolls down roads.

A long-necked yokai that licks ceilings, leaving the dark stains you see overhead.

A small yokai that creeps into dirty bathhouses at night to lick up the grime.

Whirlwind weasels that slash a traveler's legs with sickle-like claws, leaving painless wounds.

A mountain crone who shelters travelers—then may devour them.

A towering bald monk that grows taller the more you look up at it.

A gourd-headed old yokai who slips into homes and acts like the master.

A childlike, one-eyed monk yokai that startles people on lonely roads.

A proud mountain spirit with a red face and long nose, master of martial arts.