Izumi Kyōka (泉鏡花) (1873-1939) was an author and playwright whose career began in the final years of the Meiji era. He was heavily influenced by supernatural and grotesque themes from Edo-period literature and folklore. Izumi’s atmospheric and allusive technique — though not, in most cases, his humor — remains a strong influence on modern Japanese horror. This story “Night Fishing” 「夜釣」dates from 1911.

This is a story I heard from the wife of Daikatsu the Carpenter.

Daikatsu ran a crew in Ushigome-Tsukudo-Mae, and a man named Iwaji — who was married with two children — used to drop in and out, making himself mildly useful. Iwaji drank, he spent, he brawled. He had nothing you could call a hobby, except one thing: he had always loved to fish.

And he had talent to match. They say that eel-fishing is too hard for amateurs, but casting for eel was his specialty. He would step out for an evening and come back with so many eels that it was like he had been digging for earthworms in a marsh.

Nor was it rare for him to toss some eels in through Daikatsu’s kitchen door: “Boss, three twenty-six ouncers.”

His wife, though young, worried about their afterlife, and so Iwa-san’s destruction of living creatures made her terribly unhappy.

It was late November. An unseasonably muggy wind had blown all evening. Humid clouds swelled overhead. People too near a brazier were damp with sweat, wishing they could remove their coats. And now the sun was setting. Iwa-san left work and wound through the alleys of the Gyōgan temple grounds to the longhouse where he lived with his family. But once he got there, he seemed agitated by something and in a great hurry. Without even making his usual visit to the bath-house, he wolfed down his rice and tea, said that he was going to visit a friend, and left the house.

While he was gone, the wind grew ever fiercer. The doors and shoji screens rattled. The dark mouths of the shutters yawned and slammed. The skies, despite all this, were clear, stars still and twinkling even as the gale grew wild. Gray clouds like piles of cotton swelled into view from time to time, shedding a few drops of rain. But just when it seemed about to pour, the wind would grow wild and blow the skies clear.

The night wore on, and before long it had become a merciless pitch-black.
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The following story was originally published as 「シルクハット」in the April 1928 issue of magazine Mystery Fan「探偵趣味」.

Nakamura and I had both received a ten-yen pay raise.

I sold Nakamura my worn-out old derby for ten more yen, added five yen to that, and bought a top hat.

I had long dreamed of wearing a top hat, just once, before I grew old. I desperately wanted to know what it was like to place that luxurious presence atop my head.

Using a small velvet cushion, I stroked and stroked the nap of the hat. In the milliner’s mirror, amid the gay electric lights, the hat seemed made for me.

As for Nakamura, he stuffed his old black felt hat into his bag and put on my derby instead. It made him look like Mussolini.

After leaving the milliner’s, we went to the harbor, as usual, to a public hotel on the beach, to buy women. Payday was the only day of the month we allowed ourselves the treat of spending our meagre salaries on the company of women.

The top hat set the women at the hotel astir, as I had expected. Mine stared, eyes wide, apparently more flustered than impressed. Since the previous month, she had grown so pale and thin that I almost didn’t recognize her. I had heard that her health was poor; apparently it had deteriorated further.

As she danced with me, she grew short of breath and eventually began to tremble. When I noticed this, I stopped dancing at once and pulled her onto my lap.

"You seemed to be having some difficulty," I offered.

"I’m all right now… but I may not have long to live," she replied. Her voice was raspy.

Nakamura was with his usual girl. She was plump, with her hair cut in a boyish style. They had drunk several German beers and were now dancing a dubious Argentine tango. Her brow was fierce and villainous-looking, but Nakamura said that was exactly what he liked about her.

Before we went into the bedrooms, we paid separately.

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