Nurarihyon (ぬらりひょん / 滑瓢)

The painters of the Edo period left no explanations, as though by silent agreement. In the Hyakkai Zukan and in the brushwork of Toriyama Sekien alike, only a bald-headed old man appears, draped in robes or a priest's surplice — and not a single line exists to describe his true nature. The pictures survived; the words vanished. As if that were precisely what this creature had wanted.

The origins of the name drift in speculation. Nurari suggests something smooth and slippery; hyon, something sudden and unexpected. It is said the name is simply the sound of a thing that loses its shape the moment you reach for it, then rises back to the surface just when you have forgotten it. Like a gourd pinning down a catfish — that old image of the uncatchable — this name has long been used for what cannot be grasped.

In the waters of the Seto Inland Sea, fishermen have reported seeing spheres the size of a human head drifting along the surface. Cast a net and they sink; haul it back and they rise. The creatures repeated this teasing motion, and the fishermen called it nurari, hyon. Some say the spheres are large jellyfish, or perhaps octopuses, but no one has ever confirmed it. Why a bald old man on land and a sphere on the sea should share the same name is a question no one has answered.

The title "supreme commander of all yōkai" is an embellishment pasted on by later ages; no evidence for it exists in older texts. Yet the mistaken legend spread, and now many believe it without question — which leads certain people to whisper that this too may have been arranged by something that refuses to be pinned down.

The rumours continue still, thin but unbroken. A stranger — an old man no one recognised — was said to have let himself into someone's home, drunk his tea, and disappeared. Those who rushed after him found no shadow, no trace; only a faint impression left behind in the tatami. The harder you try to seize him, the more his outline fades.