Amabie and the Spirits of Protection: Yokai Against Plague and Misfortune
A long time ago, when sickness spread and people didn’t have much medicine, they looked to the unseen. Strange lights in the sea, shadows in the mountain. People said sometimes it wasn’t just the wind or the waves. Sometimes it was something alive, something with a message.
One of those was the Amabie. They say it came out of the water in 1846, hair flowing, face like a bird, body like a fish with three tails. It didn’t bring fear. It spoke. Good harvests, it said, but also plague. And then it told people something strange… if disease comes, draw my picture and show it around. My image will keep you safe.
But Amabie wasn’t the only one. Other yokai showed themselves too. Some with many legs, some with two heads, some who loved sake so much their blessing meant long life. They came when people were afraid, and instead of harming, they gave a kind of hope.
These weren’t shrine gods or holy spirits. They were yokai, creatures from stories. Yet in dark times, their names and their faces spread faster than sickness, passed from one hand to another. And in that way, they became protectors.
Amabie, the Sea Spirit of Prophecy
The Amabie is one of Japan’s most unusual yōkai, remembered not for frightening travellers or causing mischief, but for speaking to humans with a message. Descriptions of its form are curious and a little otherworldly. It rose from the sea with long flowing hair, a face shaped like a bird with a small beak, a body covered in scales that shimmered like a fish, and three wide tail fins that fanned out behind it.
The earliest record of Amabie comes from the Edo period, in 1846, near the waters of Kumamoto. According to the story, a government official on duty by the coast noticed a bright light moving across the waves at night. When he approached, the creature appeared, standing in the surf, half human and half fish.
Unlike many yōkai who brought fear, Amabie brought words. It told the official of rich harvests that would bless the land for several years, but also warned of disease that might spread through the people. Before disappearing back into the sea, it gave its strange command: “If sickness comes, draw my picture and show it to the people. My image will protect them.”
That image was quickly copied by woodblock print artists, passed hand to hand, until the long-haired, bird-faced creature became a charm against illness.
Amabiko, the Cousin of Amabie
Not long after Amabie’s tale was told, another creature began to appear in stories. This one was called the Amabiko. Some said it came from the sea like Amabie, others swore it came down from the mountains. Either way, it looked just as strange. Sometimes it had three legs, sometimes many more, and its face looked a little like a monkey, a little like a fish, never quite one thing or another.
Like Amabie, the Amabiko spoke. It gave prophecies of rich harvests, but also warnings of plague. And it gave the same command. Draw me, share my image, and you will be protected.
Villagers carved its likeness into prints, copying its odd body and strange face, passing it around just as they had with Amabie. Seeing the drawing made one feel a little safer, even if doctors or herbs could not stop the sickness.
Because there are so many more records of the Amabiko, some believe the Amabie was simply a mistake, a miscopy of its name. Others argue they were related, two members of a family of prophetic spirits that rose when people were most afraid. Either way, their message was the same. In the face of sickness, it was not the medicine but the picture of a yokai that gave people courage.
The Prophecy Bird, Yogen no Tori
There is another tale, not from the sea this time but from the skies. In 1858, people spoke of a strange bird that appeared when cholera swept through Japan. They called it the Yogen no Tori, the Prophecy Bird.
It was no ordinary bird. It had two heads, both watching, both speaking, its body dark with long feathers that shone in the light. People said it cried out in a voice that was half song and half warning. The words were always the same. A plague is coming, but those who pray to us shall be spared.
Just like with Amabie and Amabiko, people rushed to copy the bird’s likeness. Woodblock prints spread quickly, showing the two-headed figure with wings spread wide. The drawings were tucked into homes and carried like charms, a fragile shield against the sickness that no medicine could cure.
It was frightening, yes, but also strangely comforting. The bird gave people a way to act, a way to believe that maybe the disease would pass them by if they honoured its image.
Other Spirits of Fortune and Health
Not every yokai came with a warning of plague. Some were simply known for bringing good fortune or keeping people healthy in their own strange ways.
One of them was the Shōjō, a red-faced spirit with wild hair who loved nothing more than to drink sake. Most spirits who drank too much were seen as dangerous, but the Shōjō was different. If you shared a cup of its blessed sake, people believed you would be granted good health and a long life. So even though it looked a little frightening, the Shōjō became a symbol of joy and celebration, a reminder that laughter and drink could keep sickness away.
There were also small spirit-familiars like the Kudagitsune. These tiny foxlike beings were said to live in bamboo tubes or jars, serving families who treated them kindly. If respected, they could bring prosperity and protection. While not directly tied to disease, they showed another side of yokai, one where strange beings could become guardians instead of threats.
Stories like these painted a world where not every supernatural visitor meant harm. Some yokai danced with humans, shared their drink, or watched over homes. In their own way, they too were seen as protectors.
Modern Revivals
For a long time, the names of Amabie and Amabiko slept in old woodblock prints, tucked away in archives and museums. The Prophecy Bird and the sake-loving Shōjō became little more than footnotes in old books. But when the world once again faced sickness, their voices rose from the past.
During the COVID-19 pandemic, the Amabie returned first. Artists began sketching its long hair and three tails, sharing the pictures online the way villagers once passed woodblock prints from hand to hand. The Japanese government even used Amabie’s image in public health campaigns, reminding people to protect themselves and one another. Children colored its strange fish-bird face, while companies made it into mascots and charms. What the sea spirit had once asked, “show my picture and you will be safe”, fit perfectly in an age of social media.
The Amabiko and Prophecy Bird were remembered too, their old images reprinted and reshared as symbols of protection. Even the Shōjō, with its red face and cup of sake, became a cheerful figure for survival and health in hard times. These yokai, once half-forgotten, became alive again because people needed them.
Just as before, the drawings spread faster than the sickness itself. And once again, their faces gave something no medicine could: a sense of hope, a way to laugh, a promise that even in dark times, stories could guard the human heart.
