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Fantasy East Asian Inspirational

The Fisherman. A Forest Path. Promises. Cherry Blossoms.


It was nearing the end of the day, and Henjō lifted his trap from the lowland river. He frowned at his luck as he reeled in his nets and lines from the water. Recovering only two eels and a catfish, Henjō would go hungry today, for his catch would only feed his wife and child. His stomach growled in disappointment.

A young man, Henjō wore a green kosode over his hakama trousers, and a round straw hat shielded his face from the sun. Two nearly-empty wicker baskets hung from a sturdy pinewood rod balanced between his shoulders. On his back, he bore the weight of a day pack and a long bamboo fishing pole.

Henjō tossed his catch into his baskets and baited his lines before casting them back into the river. In the distance, the peak of a snow-covered volcanic mountain stabbed at the horizon. A fine mist settled in as he slogged barefoot through the wetland marsh to take the higher ground. Entering a stand of tall pine trees, Henjō walked the path that would take him to his village. The trail was lined with green ferns and mosses that thrived in the shade, and enormous decaying tree trunks felled by blustery seaside winds.

Alone in the wood, Henjō was reminded of fishing with his father and their hour-long trek home. To entertain him as a boy, his father would play old songs on a breathy bamboo flute, a shakuhachi. As Henjō would twirl and dance on the road, his father would laugh through a row of missing teeth. Even in unfortunate times when they had nothing to show for their efforts, his father always encouraged Henjō to be optimistic and joyful; our baskets may be empty, he’d say, but our hearts will be full. Henjō missed him and enjoyed reminiscing about those happier times, so he retrieved his father’s shakuhachi from his pack, placed it to his lips, and played to idle his time.

Henjō held the flute like a recorder with both hands in front of him, and he kept his head bowed to watch where he stepped along his path. It was spring, and pollen particulates hung suspended in the air, but the sun was setting, it would be dusk soon, and the forest would gradually become a darker, more ominous place. Cruel brigands, eager to steal a day’s meal rather than earn it, were not uncommon, and these woods were rife with yokai and kami - supernatural spirits both malevolent and well-meaning. He hoped that his songs would offer a friendly greeting to anyone, or anything, he might encounter on the trail.

Alarmed by a sound of movement behind him, Henjō turned to find a slender fox pacing him on the path, entranced by his song. Her fur was rusted-orange, and she had sharp, black-tipped ears, and bright white fur lined her breast. As Henjō stopped, so did the fox, resting on her haunches. She looked longingly at Henjō, as to encourage him to continue playing, and when he did not, she whimpered, tucked her tail, and slunk into the ferns and thickets alongside the path.

A man who respected kitsune lore, Henjō prepared an offering. Pulling a wriggling eel from his basket, he slapped its temple against a rock to still it, sliced it into edible chunks of meat, and left it on the rock. Resuming his walk, Henjō returned to the shakuhachi and recalled the proud times with his father when they were burdened with a more ample catch.

A brief time passed before the fox reappeared on the forest path ahead of Henjō. She sat there as if she waited for him, and she lifted her head in greeting as he approached.

Henjō stopped and bowed deeply, reverently to the spirit.

“You were kind,” she said, speaking in a way where Henjō heard her in his mind; her mouth did not move. She looked at him with sullen black eyes. “And so I shall return your kindness. Play your best for me, and your baskets shall overflow with fish.”

Henjō was apprehensive. His father warned bargaining with kitsune was a fraught enterprise. At best, they were trickster spirits and couldn’t be trusted, but Henjō’s baskets were light, and his family was hungry. What choice did he have?

Reluctantly, Henjō remembered a celebratory song his father would play at weddings, and, resting his fingers over the instrument’s spine, he inhaled, and breathed life into his bamboo flute. It was a slow-moving romantic melody, and the fox closed her eyes to listen. Henjō’s father’s song was as watercolor brushes in her mind that painted a world of lush, green landscapes, flowing rivers, distant purple hills, and flocks of white cranes. Captivated, the fox swayed on the road.

When Henjō finished, he brought the flute from his lips to watch the fox from under the brim of his hat. Startled by the music’s sudden end, the whimpering fox turned to dash away into the trees, yet, balanced on his shoulders, his baskets remained light and empty. Scowling, believing he was tricked, Henjō’s mood soured, and he grumbled and returned the shakuhachi to his pack, resolved to walk the rest of the way in silence to spite the kitsune.

It was nearly dark as he approached his village, and Henjō heard the rumble of distant waves crashing along the seashore. A round, full moon crested over the forest of rocking, leaning pines, and a copse of cherry blossom trees bordering his village budded with swollen green florets.

Crossing a footbridge, he heard an unfamiliar sound of sloshing and jumping, and in looking there, at the stream under the bridge, he saw hundreds of silvery halfbeak fish, schooling in the shallow creek.

Overjoyed, Henjō dropped to his belly and submerged his baskets up to his shoulder; resting there, he felt the dense mass of swimming fish bump, scrape, and peck his arm. Satisfied, he pulled the pine rod up towards him to lift his baskets from the creek, both inundated with wet, slippery, silver halfbeaks. And as the water drained through the wicker to spill over the bridge's surface, Henjō’s gaze went to the forest to thank the fox, but she was nowhere to be found. 

When he returned home, Henjō was warmly greeted by his wife, marveling over his catch, and he and his family were happy. But he did not tell his wife of the kitsune nor their encounter along the path, for he did not wish to concern her. Food was food, Henjō believed, and a bargain made with kami aside, he was thankful for his good fortune.

A week later, Henjō returned to the wetlands to check his riverside traps in the morning but once again found very little. Baiting them, he set out across the marsh to try a fishing hole he knew, a place where there should be much larger catfish, trout, and carp, that he might catch with his pole. Traipsing across the wetland in a drizzly rain, he again encountered the kitsune, waiting for him in the tall reeds.

“Play for me,” she said in a way that was without words, “and when you return this evening, your traps will be full.”

Remembering his bounty from the last time, Henjō dropped his baskets and offered a long, wandering tune his father would play at sunsets along the beach. The fox swayed, listening to the composition, and marched in circles, enamored with the music. Henjō’s brushes painted a tan shoreline with deep blue waters with frothy white tips, roiling before a setting sun hanging low in an aquamarine sky. And when it ended, when Henjō stopped playing, the fox bounded into the thick cattails and reeds to disappear from sight.

Henjō spent the day fishing but caught very little. Still, his spirits were high, and he wasn’t overly concerned, for he had faith in the kitsune’s promise, and was eager to return to his traps.

When it was time, Henjō jogged briskly across the wetland, the pine rod bowing and his baskets bobbing up and down with every quick step. He raced to his traps to pull them from the water and was amazed at the abundance. He had caught many catfish, crawdads, carp, and eels. His baskets could not carry them all, and as his father had taught him, Henjō released what he couldn’t use. Overburdened, Henjō staggered home, lumbering through the forest with the weight of his baskets.

Surprised, his wife asked him how, once again, he had experienced such good fortune. Henjō was at a loss knowing he couldn’t rationally explain his catch, so, an honest man, he told her of the kitsune, how he would play for her, and how he’d be rewarded. He expected his wife to be displeased and inclined to scold him, but instead, she cautioned him to be careful, trusting her husband’s wisdom but uncertain about the kitsune’s motivations. Together, they ate well and shared loving, comfortable evenings watching sunsets from their home.

Two weeks later, when the food had run its course, Henjō returned to the marshes with his baskets and gear.

However, instead of checking and baiting his traps, Henjō went looking for the fox.

Henjō lingered in the forest, walking its trails in the middle of the morning, playing his flute as if to summon the kitsune. He wandered the marsh up to his ankles in mud and poked through the tall grassy reeds with his fishing pole. Henjō found no sign of the fox.

Henjō spent his whole day wandering, playing the shakuhachi in a vain attempt to lure the kitsune to him, and the fox never came.

When night fell, and Henjō returned home, the cherry blossom trees were in full bloom, lining his village in splattered patterns of pink and white. Henjō, however, was empty-handed, and with nothing to feed his family, they hungered in the shadow of intense beauty.

The next day, Henjō marched directly to his traps in the wetland and, in finding no catch, angrily baited and recast his nets and lines. Frustrated, Henjō trekked to the fishing hole and let the line fall from his bamboo rod and sink into the clear, deep water. Hours passed, and the warm sun beat down upon him as he waited for even a bite or a nibble. Nearing the end of his day, Henjō felt a tug. He had hooked a catfish, and he lifted his pole to bring his lonely catch to his basket.

Then, he heard a snap, and the fox appeared behind him. She sat away from him, at a distance, and said, “Play for me, and I will show you a place where the fish are more plentiful.”

At first, Henjō abstained, saying, “I must fish, and not entertain you. Yesterday, my family went hungry as I waited for you to appear.”

The fox twitched her ears and leaned her head to her side. “But your beautiful music. I long to hear it. What am I to do?”

Henjō sighed and resigned to play once more for the urging spirit. He played a sad song that his father would often play in the heart of winter. The fox closed her eyes and saw a painting of deep snows with daggers of ice hanging from trees and rooflines, where villagers, covered in meager blankets, carried armloads of firewood across bridges that spanned a frozen pond. The fox could feel the freezing breeze in her fur, and her paws felt like they rested on a sheet of ice.

When he stopped, the fox reluctantly opened her eyes to see Henjō collect his baskets from the river’s shore. “I am a fisherman,” he said, lifting his baskets. “Sometimes, what I catch is scant, and today, I will return with one fish. But it is a fish that I caught, and it will feed my family.”

Taking the shakuhachi and tossing it to the grass as a final offering, Henjō turned away from the fox, and said, “As I must work to feed others, so you must learn to play.”

Henjō returned home in a flurry of cherry blossom petals blowing in the ocean breeze. He prepared his single catfish and served it to his family, and although it was unfulfilling, it was still a meal he caught and he alone provided. Though Henjō never saw the kitsune again, his remote fishing hole was always plentiful with fish, and his family never went hungry. And every spring, when the cherry blossoms would bloom and take to the wind, Henjō could hear his father’s drifty, breathy songs played on a shakuhachi coming from somewhere in the pine forest, as the kitsune taught herself to play.



March 11, 2023 14:59

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58 comments

Belladona Vulpa
09:40 Mar 19, 2023

I liked the story a lot! It felt like a fairytale, nice setting, I liked how the music would combine with emotions and imagined scenery. Very lively pictures. Also the ending where both the fisherman and the fox learn something. Nicely done!

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Russell Mickler
14:01 Mar 19, 2023

Hey Belladona! Wonderful, I'm glad you liked it! Thank you for reading and for taking the time to comment - I really appreciate it. R

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Molly Kelash
19:19 Mar 18, 2023

So lovely! What evocative writing, with a close ear to the folk tale cadence. I was worried his bargain with the fox might turn dark, but instead it was fulfilling for everyone, man, fox and reader. Domo arigato!

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Russell Mickler
19:30 Mar 18, 2023

Thank you, Molly :) very kind of you to say - I’m very glad you enjoyed it! R

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Rebecca Miles
17:14 Mar 18, 2023

Oh this is just lovely Russell. Really. So much beautiful imagery, wedded to such a hopeful message. Along the way I loved the repeated visits from the kitsune and how gently Henjō realised he himself was sufficient enough. It was lyrical, read like a classic but had a modern message of the pride one can feel in making one's own luck. Yes, I really enjoyed this and hope it does well.

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Russell Mickler
17:59 Mar 18, 2023

Hi Rebecca! Wow, such a lovely review - thank you :) I appreciate your kind words and taking the time to read it :) R

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Roger Scypion
16:53 Mar 11, 2023

Very good story written like a fable. Great scenic descriptions. -RS

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Russell Mickler
20:12 Mar 11, 2023

Hi Roger! Thank you! The pacing seems a little off but it’s something I can tackle later this week :) I’m chillin like a villain at the Oregon coast this weekend … which means you hot tub and watch the ocean from a distance … :) time for a nap! R

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Roger Scypion
20:19 Mar 11, 2023

Sometimes the pace feels that way when you have more than 3k worth of words you want to write. I felt the journey and mood of the story was very good. You have cultural knowledge of Asian customs, mores and such? -RS

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Russell Mickler
20:26 Mar 11, 2023

I don’t- I did about an hours worth of research on the Heian Period art, peasant clothing, fishing strategies and kitsune manifestations beforehand though … the whole setting comes from a painting; the name is from a prominent monk from the period; my partner said … it’s a western moral in an eastern story and it’s all wrong! Grin … but hopefully I won’t offend anybody … :) I think it needs a bit more but I was going to mull on it - totally agree with you on the size though - why make it longer than it needs to be? :)

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Roger Scypion
20:38 Mar 11, 2023

Don't be so critical of yourself. The message and thoughtful meaning in your work is what counts. A true reader of the word will appreciate your work in my opinion. -RS

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Russell Mickler
20:45 Mar 11, 2023

Giggle … very kind of you, thank you … I redeemed myself a bit to her when I added the bit about Henjō’s father’s songs playing in the forest … once I did that, she was happier with it … I originally stopped my draft with the offering of the flute :) Thanks for all your kind comments, Roger :) R

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Helen A Smith
12:47 May 08, 2023

Like hearing a beautiful musical melody, the story flowed and had a mesmerising quality to it. Important as music played a big part here, as well as how you painted the imagery. I particularly loved the character of the fox. I love the idea of being able to hear without the necessity for the spoken word. Also, a good message here. The message for me was the reward when the MC was able to take home a decent catch as a result of his own labours. A magical piece.

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Russell Mickler
13:39 May 08, 2023

Hi Helen! Thank you so much for reading and your kind words … I am glad you liked it, and I truly appreciate your time :) R

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Hanzikeen Ze
21:26 Mar 31, 2023

Omg I like this story a lot! I'm not a writer, but I like reading and not all readers are very good at comprehending deep words or reading in-between the lines. Yours is simple and the message is clear. I'm not familiar with some words, yet I dont need to google or search for it because you explained it flawlessly the way it doesn't gets in the way of the story. The message of the story is as bright as day. I look forward to reading more of your works <3

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Russell Mickler
22:50 Mar 31, 2023

(Clasping my hands and respectfully bowing...) You are so kind, Hanzikeen. Thank you for the kind words ... and I hope to see you around some of my other tales. Thank you :) R

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Russell Mickler
14:22 Mar 28, 2023

My landing page for this work can be found at: https://www.black-anvil-books.com/the-fox-and-the-flute As always, thanks for reading, and thanks for sticking around. R

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Simone J Fry
08:39 Mar 24, 2023

What a beautiful story Russell! Such beautiful imagery, and like a fable that has been around for many generations. Thank you :)

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Susan Catucci
16:36 Mar 23, 2023

This story is every bit as captivating to the reader as the music must have been to the fox. Your descriptions of the scenery and the watercolors painted by the flute were beautifully rendered. You made the smile of a toothless father as enchanting as the evening's entertainment of a setting sun. I'm very glad I stopped by and did not miss this, Russell. I enjoyed every word.

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Russell Mickler
17:52 Mar 23, 2023

Hi Susan! WOW amazing feedback, thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it :) R

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Eva Bernal
09:41 Mar 23, 2023

Wow! This was so good. I really enjoyed the wistfulness of memory. Well written!❤️

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Edward Latham
13:52 Mar 22, 2023

Russell's fables! The way you led us through the japanese landscape and culture was beautiful and felt like being taken by the hand and given a flowing tour

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Russell Mickler
15:34 Mar 22, 2023

Hi Edward! Russell's Fables! Hey, I like the sound of that :) Nobody should take a moral lesson from my stories, though - I usually end up killing a character off, painfully transforming them into animals, or trapping them in a dark dungeon. Ich! Just what am I trying to teach children anyway? Grin - thanks for reading and for taking the time to comment, Edward - I very much appreciate it :) R

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Tricia Cundiff
21:47 Mar 21, 2023

Well done! I loved the ending, and the enchantment of the fox playing the music for all the forest to hear.

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Russell Mickler
02:04 Mar 22, 2023

Hey Tricia! Thank you :) I'm glad you liked it - thank you for taking the time to comment :) R

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RJ Holmquist
15:46 Mar 19, 2023

Nailed the "remastered" idea. Feels like it could have come out of an anthology of old eastern folktales, yet every word was so enticing I would never have needed a spark notes version. Best I have read for the prompt so far.

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Russell Mickler
16:00 Mar 19, 2023

Hey - Thanks for reading and for the kind words, RJ - :) R

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Kavil Wagh
07:42 Mar 19, 2023

Hi, great story! I had a question did you enter the contest or post the story for free. I entered the contest paying 5$, but I cant see my story on the search page under the same category as you.

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Belladona Vulpa
09:43 Mar 19, 2023

Hello! For the contest it takes some days until the story gets approved to show on the contest page. Then you receive an email when the story shows up, so don't worry! I had the same experience

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Russell Mickler
13:58 Mar 19, 2023

Hi Kavil! That you so much for reading and for your kind words. Belladona's right! The judges need time to review every contest submission and will approve stories all the way through the Thursday of the week. So your work won't immediately be shown. If your work's rejected for some reason, I understand they'll notify you. I've had instances where my work didn't appear in the contest until Wednesday or so... It's the luck of the draw, I think, who reviews your work and their backlog. R

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02:25 Mar 19, 2023

Nice story, and well written.

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Russell Mickler
13:59 Mar 19, 2023

Awesome - thank you, Marcus - glad it resonated - I appreciate your time and readership :) R

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Mary Bendickson
15:19 Mar 18, 2023

In my second lifetime maybe I'll get to read more of your work. So little time so much to read!

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Russell Mickler
15:35 Mar 18, 2023

Grin - thank you :) I guess one of the nice things is, around here, everything I've got is under 3,000 words :) Like bite-sized cookies, when you want a yum yum snack ... :) So take your time, and please, sample all you'd like from the cookie jar :) R

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Mary Bendickson
17:16 Mar 18, 2023

Thanks and thanks for watching over me.

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Mary Bendickson
15:17 Mar 18, 2023

So unique! I looked at these prompts and went "Duh!' You did it justice.

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Russell Mickler
15:32 Mar 18, 2023

Hi Mary! Thank you so much for commenting! So, when I wrote it, I was concerned that the context for the prompt wanted a more modern story influenced by kitsune lore. I was originally going to write about an Uber customer who requests a ride, only to find that the car was driven by a Nogitsune (an evil variety of kitsune spirits) ... and the Nogitsune would possess/seduce/ destroy the rider ... but then I was like, nah, I want to write a more traditional folklore story :) I liked this concept more ... Thank you for reading! R

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Benja Catton
13:46 Mar 18, 2023

Beautiful. Excellent.

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Russell Mickler
14:24 Mar 18, 2023

Hi Benja - Thank you so much for your kind comments - and for reading :) R

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Irene Duchess
02:07 Mar 17, 2023

amazing story. I don't know much (or really anything) about spirits like this, so it was cool to hear it here. :) I like to paint and play the violin, so I especially liked the 'music painting the pictures'. thanks for sharing!

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Russell Mickler
02:10 Mar 17, 2023

Thank you so much, Lilah - thanks for reading and your kind words - I’m glad it resonated! R

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Irene Duchess
02:11 Mar 17, 2023

glad to! :)

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Jack Kimball
18:30 Mar 15, 2023

Yes. Love the mood this generates. Asian folklore feel for sure. I especially liked the results of your research generating a unique story. That's a lot of work and deserving of accolades alone. I thought it was hilarious your partner said, '...it’s a western moral in an eastern story and it’s all wrong!' Great job Russell (as usual). Jack

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Russell Mickler
19:05 Mar 15, 2023

Hey Jack! Thanks for the read and the kind comments :) Snicker - like you, I love to write, and a love of writing means research and attention to detail ... and hopefully learning something in the process :) Grin, she's an excellent beta reader and checks me on my assumptions. That was the first thing out of her mouth when she read my draft :) ... the research process is something I'm good at and enjoy, but the way something sounds to the ear, or _feels_, that's where I need her. Luckily she's patient with me and doesn't deep-six everyt...

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