The Crane Wife - Japanese

My story begins in the whisper-quiet of a winter long ago, where the world was blanketed in snow so deep it silenced the footsteps of time itself. You may know me from the stories your grandparents tell, but I want you to hear it from me, the woman they call Tsuru Nyōbō. I am the Crane Wife. Before I was a wife, I was a crane, soaring on wings of silver-white against a pearl-gray sky. One bitter afternoon, a hunter's arrow found me, and I fell from the sky into a snowdrift, my life fading like the winter light. Just as the cold began to claim me, a young man named Yosaku found me. He was poor but his heart was warm. With gentle hands, he removed the arrow and tended to my wound, never knowing the true nature of the creature he was saving. His kindness was a debt I knew I must repay. So, I shed my feathered form and appeared at his door as a woman, hoping to bring the warmth I saw in his heart into his lonely home. He welcomed me, and we were married. Our home was humble, filled with little more than love, but it was enough.

We lived happily, but Yosaku’s hard work barely kept us fed. I saw the worry etched on his face and knew I possessed a way to help. I set up a loom in a small, private room at the back of our house and made him a solemn request. “My love,” I said, my voice serious, “I will weave a cloth more beautiful than any in the land, a treasure that will bring us great fortune.” His eyes lit up, but I held up a hand. “You must promise me one thing: never, ever look inside this room while I am working.” He agreed, his curiosity piqued but his love for me stronger. For three days and three nights, the rhythmic clacking of the loom was the only sound in our house. Inside that room, I let my human form fall away. I was a crane once more, and each thread I wove was a feather, plucked from my own body. The pain was a sharp fire under my wings, but my desire to see Yosaku happy was stronger. Finally, I emerged, weak but triumphant, holding a bolt of fabric that shimmered like captured starlight. Yosaku sold it for a magnificent price, and for a time, our worries vanished. But the money did not last forever. Seeing our funds dwindle, Yosaku, perhaps influenced by the greedy whispers of the market merchants, asked me to weave again. My heart sank, but I could not refuse him. “Of course,” I whispered, “but the promise holds.” This time, the weaving took longer and left me even more depleted. The second cloth was more breathtaking than the first, and it brought us even greater wealth. But with wealth came a shadow. Yosaku’s curiosity began to gnaw at his promise, a quiet question that grew louder with each passing day.

The third time I prepared the loom, a deep weariness had settled into my bones. I was thinner now, and my true form was not as brilliant as it once was. I knew this would be the final cloth. As I sat at the loom, a crane shedding her life force into the threads, the paper door slid open with a soft hiss. Yosaku stood there. His face, once filled with simple kindness, was now a mask of utter shock and disbelief. Our eyes met across the room—his, human and full of a broken promise; mine, the dark, wild eyes of a crane. The sacred vow that had bound our two worlds together was irrevocably shattered. In that instant, my secret was revealed, and the magic that allowed me to live as a human was undone. I could no longer stay in his world. With a heart that felt as if it were tearing in two, I finished the last few threads of the exquisite cloth and laid it beside him, a final, painful gift. I gave him one last, sorrowful look before my human limbs folded into wings. I flew through the small window and into the cold air, leaving behind the man I loved and the beautiful life we had woven and unraveled together. I circled our little home once, a final farewell, before flying back to the wild, where I belonged.

My story, often called 'Tsuru no Ongaeshi' or 'The Crane's Return of a Favor,' became a legend whispered across Japan. It serves as a timeless reminder that true love must be built on a foundation of trust and that some secrets are born from immense sacrifice. The tale teaches a powerful lesson: breaking a promise, driven by greed or curiosity, can unravel even the most beautiful creations. Today, my story is still told in books, in the grand drama of Kabuki theater, and in delicate paintings on silk scrolls. It inspires people to be kind to nature and to understand the weight and importance of their word. And though I returned to the sky, a creature of the wild, my story remains, a shimmering thread connecting the human world to the natural one, reminding everyone that the greatest gifts are not material things, but the trust and love we share.