Japan is a land of rich folklore, where myths and supernatural tales have been passed down for generations. Among these stories, one of the most unsettling is that of the Noppera-bō, the faceless ghost. This eerie spirit, with a smooth, featureless face, has haunted the imaginations of many. In this article, we will explore the haunting tale of the Noppera-bō, a story that captures the mysterious and terrifying essence of Japanese ghost lore.
The Faceless Ghost: The Legend of the Noppera-bō
In the quiet, moonlit nights of old Edo, a mysterious canal known as “Oitekebori”—the “Leave-It-Behind Moat”—was whispered about among townspeople. The story goes that if you fished near the moat and tried to leave, you might hear a disembodied voice saying, “Oiteke… Oiteke…”—”Leave it behind… leave it behind…” Fishermen who heard the voice would drop their catch and flee in terror.
Such tales amused Hanbei, a proud and stubborn fishmonger who scoffed at ghost stories.
“I’m not scared of some faceless ghost! I’ll fish there and bring it home—and maybe I’ll catch that ghost too!”
Ignoring his wife’s pleas and his friends’ warnings, Hanbei tightened his headband, grabbed his fish scales and bamboo pole, and set out for the haunted moat.
As he sat on the canal bank, the night deepened. The wind turned cold, and the moonlight grew dim. Fish bit with unusual eagerness, and soon his baskets overflowed.
“Ha! What a catch!” Hanbei said, lighting his pipe. He leaned back, blowing smoke rings into the darkness.
Just as he stood to leave, a sound slithered through the silence: “Oiteke… oiteke…”
Hanbei’s heart stopped. The voice was low, hollow, and too close.
“Leave behind… what? My fish? Never!”
He clutched his basket and ran.
Breathless, he reached a shadowy grove of willows. The sound of geta sandals clicking on cobblestones—karan koron, karan koron—echoed behind him. He turned, and there, bathed in pale moonlight, stood a woman in a white kimono. Her skin glowed like porcelain, and her black hair cascaded down her back.
“Sir,” she said softly, “won’t you sell me your fish?”
Hanbei hesitated but shook his head. “No. I have to show everyone the fish I caught here tonight.”
The woman smiled and slowly raised her hand to her face.
“Are you sure…? Even if I look like this?”
With a slow, deliberate motion, she wiped her face. Her eyes, nose, and mouth vanished, leaving smooth, blank skin. The faceless ghost, the Noppera-bō, tilted its head toward him.
“Oiteke…”
Hanbei screamed and fled.
A Town of Faceless Terrors
He stumbled into a noodle stand down the street and collapsed on the counter.
“Help me!” he gasped. “A woman… no face… at the moat!”
The noodle vendor set down his ladle and turned slowly.
“Like this?” the vendor asked.
The man’s face was featureless.
Hanbei staggered back and ran. His legs trembled as he reached his home and banged on the door. His wife opened it, her face filled with concern.
“Hanbei! What’s wrong?”
“Ghosts! Faceless ghosts! The Noppera-bō!”
His wife sighed and reached for her face.
“Like this?”
She wiped her skin, and her features melted away into the pale, expressionless mask of the faceless ghost.
Hanbei’s knees gave out, and darkness swallowed him.
The Curse of Oitekebori
When he woke, cold mud clung to his back. The morning sun revealed the familiar grove of willows by the haunted moat. His fish baskets lay overturned, their contents scattered. And on the water’s surface, dozens of pale, smooth faces stared up at him.
“Oiteke… oiteke…”
Terrified, Hanbei abandoned his trade and never went near the canal again. Yet, townspeople later swore that Hanbei’s face seemed… different. His features grew faint, blurred, as if the Noppera-bō had taken something from him that night.
To this day, those who visit the old moat on moonlit nights claim to hear it: a whisper floating on the breeze.
“Oiteke… oiteke…”
And sometimes, when they peer into the water, smooth, pale faces peer back.
Conclusion
The tale of the Noppera-bō, the faceless ghost of Japanese folklore, endures as a haunting reminder of the mysterious and often chilling stories woven into Japan’s cultural fabric. This ghostly figure, with its unsettling lack of features, continues to captivate and terrify audiences worldwide. Next time you hear an unexplained whisper or see a smooth reflection where none should be, remember: the faceless ones are always watching.
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