Old Man Crazy to Paint

Kohada Koheiji

They met on nights with no moon, when the only light came from the stars that wheeled across the heavens. They would come together to play the game of hyaku monogatari - the game of one hundred ghost stories.

The game was simple. A cluster of oil lamps would be set in the middle of the room, one lamp per person. Then, the friends would gather in a circle around the lamps to tell each other tales of yūrei, yōkai and mamono: tales of horror and terror. At the end of their tale, the storyteller would extinguish one of the lamps, and the next person would take their turn. So, as the night wore on and more stories were told, the circle of light would shrink and the circle of friends would draw closer together. Finally, at the end of the night, when the last person had told their story, the last lamp would be extinguished and the room would be plunged into darkness.

According to tradition, that was the signal for the spirits to rise, to acclaim the best story of the night and to honour the teller of that story. Of course, nobody believed this - or so they said to each other as they made their ways back home. After all, they had been playing hyaku monogatari for over a year.

On this night, Yoshi wanted to be last. He had a special tale to tell: the tale of Kohada Koheiji. So he bode his time, waiting for the others to finish their stories and extinguish their lamps. Finally, as the shadows filled the room, Yoshi spoke. "It is my turn," he said. "Tonight, I shall tell you the tale of Kohada Koheiji."

The others sat up and looked attentively at Yoshi. None of them had ever heard this story before. This would be something new to thrill them.

Yoshi continued. "Once upon a time, there was an actor named Kohada Koheiji. He was a fortunate man, for he had wealth and fame and a beautiful wife. But what he did not know was that his wife was in love with another, and so she conspired with her lover to murder her husband and take his riches."

Yoshi leaned closer to the lamp, so the shadows deepened across his face. To the others in the circle, it looked like he had donned an oni mask from a kabuki play.

"Their plan was simple. They would wait for Koheiji-san as he made his way back from the theatre. Then, they would waylay him and slit his throat. That way he would not be able to cry for help. They would dispose of his corpse in the swamp, where it would soon be eaten by the fish and worms. No one would ever find his body.

"And so the plan was put into motion. Kohada Koheiji's throat was slit and his body was dropped in the swamp, where it vanished into the black waters without trace."

Yoshi lowered his voice, so the others had to move closer to hear him.

"Three nights later, Koheiji-san's shameless wife was lying with her lover in her marital bed. They were entwined in lusty embrace, unaware of what was going on.

"Meanwhile, in the swamp, the body of Kohada Koheiji had returned to life. He remembered what had happened to him, and he wanted vengeance! So, he climbed out of the swamp and made his way home.

"Through the window, he saw his wife and her lover. The sight enraged his spirit. Silently he climbed through the window into the room. Quietly he made his way to the bed. He pulled back the mosquito net and reached out towards the murderous pair and ... !"

Yoshi took a deep breath, as if about to speak again, then blew out the lamp! As he did so, he placed a cold hand upon the neck of his neighbour.

The shriek of terror echoed through the night, much to Yoshi's satisfaction.