鶴女房
つるにょうぼう

Translation: crane wife
Habitat: rural areas
Diet: as a crane or as a human, depending on the form

Appearance: Tsuru nyōbō are cranes (Grus japonensis) that have taken the form of beautiful women to marry men who have been kind to them.

Origin: Tsuru nyōbō are an example of a common folklore trope: animal-human marriages. Stories about animal husbands or wives are found in every region in Japan. Variations of each tale exist, usually with similar plots depending on the animal involved. Tsuru nyōbō stories follow a pattern resembling the following story from Niigata Prefecture.

Legends: One winter, a poor man was gathering firewood in the mountains. He came across a crane flapping pitiably on the ground, its wing pierced by a hunter’s arrow. The man gently removed the arrow, applied medicine, and bandaged the wing. The crane soared into the air and cried happily. It circled the man, then flew away.

Not long after, there was a knock on the man’s door. A beautiful young woman in traveling clothes was standing in the snow. It was cold, dark, and a terrible hour to be traveling alone. The woman asked if she could pass the night in the man’s home. He pitied her and welcomed her inside, giving her a seat by the fire and what little food he had.

The next day, the man went out to gather firewood. When he returned, the woman was still there. She had cleaned the whole house. The woman stayed that night too, and the night after that. She made no mention of continuing her journey and the man did not ask her about it.

One day the woman told the man that she would like to be his wife. The man could not believe that such a beautiful woman would want to marry someone as poor as him. But she assured him that she had thought carefully about her decision, so he happily accepted. For a wedding gift, she asked him to build her a loom so that she could weave a brocade. She asked her husband to leave her alone in her workroom for seven days, and she made him promise that he would not look in on her while she worked.

The man listened to the clack-clack-boom of the loom as his wife worked. But he kept his promise and did not spy upon her. After the seventh day she emerged from her workroom, exhausted, yet carrying the most splendid fabric the man had ever seen. She instructed him to take the brocade into town and sell it to the lord for one thousand ryō. He was astonished—could it really be worth such a lordly sum?

The man did as she asked. The lord bought the fabric for one thousand ryō, and he commanded the man to bring him another brocade just like it. The man returned home with his fortune and told his wife of the lord’s order. She seemed reluctant; however they could not disobey the lord’s command. She agreed to weave one more brocade. Again, she had her husband promise not to look upon her while she wove.

The husband listened to the clack-clack-boom of the loom as his wife worked. But this time, curiosity overpowered him. He wondered how she could weave such an extraordinary brocade when they didn’t own even a single spool of thread. He opened the door to the workroom and peaked inside. Working the loom, where his wife should have been, was a crane. The crane was pulling out its own feathers one by one, using them as thread to weave the fabric. Its body was covered in painful red spots and nearly plucked bare. The man quietly closed the door and let the crane finish its work.

After the seventh day the wife emerged from the workroom, looking gaunt. She carried a brocade equal in splendor to the first one. It would surely sell for one thousand ryō. The wife gave the fabric to her husband and looked at him with sad eyes. She confessed that she was the crane he had saved from a hunter. She had changed into a human to be by his side and repay his kindness. But since he had broken his promise and spied upon her, she could no longer stay with him. Though it was brief, she would cherish their time together forever.

She turned back into a crane and dashed into the sky. She called out sadly one last time. A flock of cranes passed overhead. The tsuru nyōbō joined the flock and flew into the distance, never to be seen again.