Japanese Urban Legends: 10 Scary Stories Retold

1. Kuchisake-onna, the Slit-Mouthed Woman

The woman at the bus stop wore a long coat and a white surgical mask, which was not strange on a cold evening. She waited until the boy was alone, then leaned down and asked softly, “Am I pretty?” He was polite. He said yes.

She pulled the mask down. Her mouth had been cut from ear to ear, a wide red smile that did not belong to her face. “How about now?” she asked. He remembered what his older sister had told him and said, “You’re average.” For a long moment the woman did not move. Then, confused, she turned away, and he ran without looking back.

Where it comes from: the legend caused a well-documented panic in 1979, beginning in Gifu Prefecture and spreading across Japan, with reports of schools sending children home in groups. Stories offer ways to escape her: answering “you’re average,” throwing her hard candy, or saying the word “pomade” three times. Older ghost tales about women with disfigured faces may have shaped the legend.

2. Hanako-san of the Toilet

The dare was always the same: third floor, girls’ bathroom, third stall. Knock three times and ask, “Hanako-san, are you there?” The other girls waited in the hallway, laughing nervously. She knocked and asked, feeling silly.

Silence. She laughed and turned to leave. Then, from inside the locked stall, a small voice answered, “Yes, I’m here.” The latch began to slide back. She did not wait to see the girl in the red skirt; she was halfway down the stairs before her friends stopped screaming.

Where it comes from: Hanako-san is one of the most famous school ghosts in Japan, and her story was especially popular among schoolchildren in the 1980s and 1990s, when it inspired books, television episodes and films. Accounts of her origin vary widely, and some people claim versions of the rumor circulated decades earlier.

3. Teke Teke

He was walking home along the railway tracks after dark when he heard it behind him: teke, teke, teke, a quick, dry scraping, like fingernails on gravel. He turned and saw a girl at the edge of the tracks, only her upper body visible above the weeds, watching him.

He thought she was hurt and started toward her. Then she moved, pulling herself along on her elbows, astonishingly fast, and he understood there was nothing below her waist at all. Teke, teke, teke. He ran. The sound stayed exactly the same distance behind him all the way to the station lights.

Where it comes from: Teke Teke is usually described as the ghost of a girl who was cut in two by a train and now moves on her elbows, named for the sound she makes. The legend spread widely among Japanese schoolchildren in the late twentieth century and has many variants, some closely related to the older Kashima Reiko legend.

4. Aka Manto, the Red Cape

The school bathroom at the end of the old wing had no paper in the last stall. She remembered too late. Then a voice came from the ceiling, polite and patient: “Would you like red paper, or blue paper?”

Everyone knew there was no good answer. Red, and you were cut until your clothes were stained red. Blue, and something drained the blood from you until your face turned blue. She said nothing at all. She sat very still and counted to a hundred, and when she finally ran, the voice behind her sounded almost disappointed.

Where it comes from: Aka Manto, meaning “red cape,” is a school-bathroom legend with many versions; in some he offers red or blue paper, in others red or blue capes. Some accounts claim rumors existed as early as the 1930s. Refusing to choose, or answering with a different color, is the usual escape, though stories disagree on whether it works.

5. Okiku, the Doll Whose Hair Grows

The family bought the doll for their little daughter, Kikuko, and she carried it everywhere. When she died young, they placed the doll on the family altar to remember her. A few months later, someone noticed that the doll’s short, neat bob had grown past its shoulders.

They trimmed it. It grew again. In the end they took the doll to the temple, where the priests let it keep its hair, and where visitors still come to see whether it has grown since their last visit.

Where it comes from: the Okiku doll is kept at Mannenji Temple in Iwamizawa, Hokkaido. According to the temple’s story, the doll was bought in 1918 and given to a girl who died the following year. Claims that its hair grows have drawn visitors and press attention for decades. Skeptics point out that dolls of that period often had human hair attached in a way that could slip loose.

6. Kisaragi Station

She took the late train home as usual, but it did not stop at her station. It kept going for twenty minutes, then pulled into a platform she had never heard of: Kisaragi. There was no staff, no taxi, no other passenger, and no signal good enough to call home, only enough to post online.

Strangers on the forum told her to stay calm and follow the tracks. In the distance she heard bells and a drum. A man offered her a ride, and she accepted. Her last message said that he had stopped talking and was driving toward the mountains. After that, she never posted again.

Where it comes from: Kisaragi Station began as a series of real-time posts on the Japanese forum 2channel in January 2004, written by a user describing a train that arrived at a station that does not exist. The thread is often cited as one of the first internet urban legends in Japan, and it later inspired a 2022 film.

7. Hachishakusama, Eight Feet Tall

He was staying with his grandparents in the countryside when he heard a strange sound above the hedge: “Po, po, po.” He looked up and saw a woman’s white hat moving along the top of the hedge, which was more than two meters tall. She was wearing a white dress. She was looking at him.

When he told his grandparents, his grandfather went pale. They sealed him in a room with salt in the corners and told him not to answer anyone until morning, not even them. All night something knocked at the window and called his name in his grandfather’s voice, and in between, softly, “po, po, po.”

Where it comes from: Hachishakusama, “eight-shaku-tall,” about 2.4 meters, first appeared in a 2008 post on 2channel. Like many internet-era legends, it combines a rural setting, a protective folk ritual and a creature that imitates voices. It has since become one of Japan’s best-known online horror figures.

8. Kunekune

On a hot summer afternoon, two brothers saw something white in the far corner of the rice field, twisting and wriggling as if it were dancing. It was too far away to make out. The older brother laughed and borrowed his grandfather’s binoculars.

He looked for a long time. Then he lowered them and began to laugh, but not at anything funny. His grandfather took the binoculars away and told the younger boy never to look at it closely, and never to ask his brother what he had seen. His brother never told anyone. He still laughs sometimes.

Where it comes from: Kunekune, named for the Japanese word for a wriggling motion, emerged on Japanese internet forums in the early 2000s. The rule is always the same: you can see it from a distance, but understanding what it is drives you mad.

9. Jinmenken, the Human-Faced Dog

The stray dog was digging through the trash behind the convenience store late at night. When the clerk shouted at it, the dog turned around, and it had a man’s face, tired and unshaven.

“Leave me alone,” it said, in a perfectly ordinary voice. Then it trotted off down the alley on four legs, and the clerk stood there holding the broom, trying to decide whether anyone would believe her.

Where it comes from: sightings of jinmenken, dogs with human faces, became a popular rumor in Japan in the late 1980s and around 1990. In most versions the dog is rude rather than dangerous, telling people to leave it alone. Earlier Japanese folklore also includes stories of human-faced animals.

10. Hitori Kakurenbo, One-Person Hide and Seek

The instructions were very specific. Take a stuffed animal, remove its stuffing, fill it with rice and a few of your own fingernail clippings, and sew it shut with red thread. At three in the morning, place it in a bathtub of water and tell it, “You’re it.” Then hide, with a cup of salt water in your hand.

He followed every step and hid in the closet, laughing at himself. Around half past three, he heard the bathroom door open. Something wet crossed the hallway slowly. It stopped outside the closet. He remembered the last instruction, to spit the salt water on it and say “I win,” and realized he had swallowed it out of nerves an hour ago.

Where it comes from: hitori kakurenbo spread on Japanese internet forums around 2006 as a ritual to summon a spirit, with detailed rules for beginning and ending the game. It is often discussed alongside Western rituals such as Bloody Mary, and many people who share it online strongly advise against trying it.

What Makes Japanese Urban Legends Different

Many Japanese urban legends are built around rules. Answer the slit-mouthed woman the wrong way and she attacks; answer the red cape’s question at all and you lose. That emphasis on correct behavior, rather than on running or fighting, gives them a distinctive tension: the reader keeps asking what the right answer is, and the stories rarely say for sure.

They also cluster in a few settings. School bathrooms host Hanako-san and Aka Manto, railway lines produce Teke Teke and Kisaragi Station, and the countryside is home to Hachishakusama and Kunekune. Each setting carries its own kind of loneliness, which is why these stories travel so well. Our own one sentence horror stories borrow the same idea of a single rule that must not be broken.

Are Japanese Urban Legends True?

None of the creatures here has ever been verified, but several legends are tied to real events. The 1979 Kuchisake-onna rumors led to genuine alarm, Kisaragi Station began as real forum posts, and the Okiku doll is a real object kept at a temple in Hokkaido. Folklorists study these stories for what they reveal about the anxieties of the time, from fears about strangers to the isolation of late-night commuting.

If you enjoy these, you may also like stories that admit from the start that they are fiction, such as our scary stories for adults, which use the same ingredients of rules, lonely places and voices that should not know your name.

Japanese Urban Legends — FAQ