Daikaijuzine

"You mean she was naked?" That was me. I had already lived in Japan for over a year but was here as an exchange student, meaning I was fairly poor and I didn’t get out much.

A friend from kendo class took pity on me, said I wasn’t getting enough culture from my daily ritual of mornings studying Japanese, afternoons training in kendo, and nights helping keep in business various drinking establishments. He decided I should visit a local tourist spot, one of the biggies in the area called Miho no Matsubara, a beautiful pine grove that sits right on the ocean.

So there I stood toes cooling in the smooth black sand gazing at a white-topped Mount Fuji jutting up from the Izu Peninsula across the sea. Itoh-kun a fourth year, second dan, related to me the story of Hagoromo.

"Yep, naked," he said.

"So you’re trying to tell me that once upon a time a celestial being came down right here, hung her feathered robe on that pine tree right there, and then took a bath in the waters right over there?"

"That is exactly what I’m trying to tell you."

"Cool!"

I’ve visited the spot dozens of times since then and can attest that the view is breathtaking. Especially if you show up before sunrise — when the story is said to have taken place — it really isn’t difficult at all to imagine why an angel might want to float down for a pre-dawn soak, which is, despite the many variations, how the story always begins.

"So what happened next?" I asked.

"At the same time a young fisherman named Mikeran just happened to be walking through this pine grove." My kendo buddy pointed. "When he was shocked to find hanging from a twisted branch –" He pointed again. "– the most beautiful robe he had ever seen. It was iridescent white and sewn of a thousand delicate feathers.

 "Admiring the cloth, he considered stealing it as his own. That is until he heard a female voice call out."

"‘Sir, please do not take my feather robe. Without it I cannot fly home.’ There coming up from the beach was the most stunning creature he had ever seen. He knew she had been bathing by the water that dripped from her blue-black hair and rolled down her perfect white skin. She motioned upwards to the sky."

"Mikeran had an idea."

"Uh oh, this can’t be good," I said.

"No, well, in the nice version of the story they manage to skip this part altogether. I guess Mikeran doesn’t make a very good role model for children."  

My friend continued. "The young man managed to persuade the celestial nymph to come back to his house. He deftly hid the robe in a place she would never find it — thus, insuring her imprisonment -– and then Mikeran proceeded to make her his wife."  

"Geesh," I said. "Not a good role model at all."

"Seven years and three children later and the angel one day happened upon her robe buried under a large pile of grain in the storehouse. She scooped up her children and made her way back to the heavens. But not without first leaving a note."

"She told Mikeran that if he wanted to follow her and the children, he must find one thousand wooden clogs and one thousand straw sandals and bury them in the ground. Having done that, he should next plant a bamboo tree over the mound and wait."

"Due to haste or simple miscalculation Mikeran buried only 999 wooden clogs and 999 straw sandals. Nevertheless, the bamboo did indeed grow at a magnificent speed and he began to climb. Before long, however, the bamboo tree ceased its ascension and the man found that while he could see the heavenly land he could not, no matter how he tried, reach it. After much fuss his angel-wife decided to lend him a hand."

"Mikeran believed that now he’d live happily ever after with his wife and kids. Enter his father-in-law, a grumpy, old fellow who thought no one, especially a mortal, was good enough for his daughter. The old angel began to torture the young man with a series of tests and quizzes in order for him to prove his worth. Mikeran didn’t have a clue, but his wife was kind and always helped him solve the challenging tasks. That is until one day while answering a test by cutting a melon; Mikeran mistook his wife’s gestures and cut it vertically instead of horizontally."

"I suppose that would be tricky to explain using only hand signs," I sympathized.

"Suddenly water gushed from the broken fruit. And it kept gushing until it formed the Milky Way."

"I guess his luck ran out, huh?" I said.

"Oh, it gets better," he said continuing. "Next Mikeran popped and fizzed and transformed into the star Altair while his angel wife became the star Vega. From that day out, the two were forever separated by this spiral galaxy except for one day a year, July 7th, when they are permitted to meet again."

"Why does that date sound familiar?" I asked.

"It’s Tanabata, the star festival."

"Are you trying to tell me that this local myth has just turned into a yearly festival that is celebrated all over Japan?"

"Well, in this version it does," my kendo friend said.

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About the Author: Terrie went to Japan sixteen years ago as an exchange student. After two years of study she ended up staying on and currently lives in a fishing town with her husband and son. When not writing she works part time putting together a newsletter for the city, counseling other expatriates, and DJing for a small radio show. Her short stories have appeared in Rosebud, Aoiffe’s Kiss, Japanophile, etc. Another is upcoming in The Binnacle.