In the ancient age of the gods, long before the earthly boundaries of Japan were clearly drawn, there lived a young divinity named Onamuchi-no-Kami. He was a gentle soul, possessing a deep reverence for the natural world, a heart capable of profound empathy, and a quiet strength that remained hidden beneath his humble demeanour. However, Onamuchi did not live in peace. He was the youngest among a vast brotherhood of eighty divine siblings. These eighty brothers, collectively known as the Yasogami, were the polar opposite of Onamuchi. They were arrogant, vain, highly competitive, and consumed by an insatiable desire for power, prestige, and beautiful treasures. They treated their youngest brother not as an equal, but as a mere servant, forcing him to carry their heavy baggage and perform menial tasks whenever they traveled across the provinces.
Word eventually reached the Izumo province of a maiden of peerless beauty and grace who dwelt in the neighbouring land of Inaba. Her name was Princess Yakami-hime. She was renowned not only for her physical perfection, but also for her sharp mind, her strong will, and her spiritual purity. Upon hearing of this wondrous princess, every single one of the eighty brothers became instantly obsessed. Each vowed that he would be the one to claim her hand in marriage, viewing her as the ultimate prize to validate their status. Filled with boastful pride, the eighty Yasogami packed their finest garments, polished their weapons, and set out on a grand journey to Inaba to present their suits. They did not invite Onamuchi to join them as a suitor; instead, they piled all their heavy travel bags, provisions, and belongings onto his back, ordering him to follow far behind them as their luggage-bearer.
As the eighty brothers marched eagerly ahead, laughing and boasting of how they would woo the princess, Onamuchi trudged slowly behind, weighed down by the massive burden on his back. His feet were sore, and his shoulders ached, yet he uttered no complaint, accepting his lot with patient grace. While the Yasogami hurried along the coastal path of Cape Keta, they encountered a pitiful sight. Resting on the sandy shore was a small hare, completely stripped of its white fur. Its skin was raw, red, and weeping from exposure to the salty sea breeze and the scorching sun. The hare was whimpering in agonizing pain, unable to find comfort.
Seeing the suffering creature, the eighty brothers did not feel pity. Instead, their malicious hearts saw an opportunity for cruel amusement. They gathered around the weeping hare and mockingly offered him advice. They told the hare that the only way to heal his raw skin was to bathe himself in the salty water of the sea, and then climb to the top of a high hill where the wind blew strongest, allowing the breeze to dry his body. The naive hare, desperate for relief, believed the words of the gods. He dragged his weeping body into the stinging, salty waves of the ocean, which caused him unimaginable torment, and then crawled up a windy hill. As the salt dried and crystallized in the harsh wind, his skin cracked, split, and dried into a agonizing crust. The pain was far worse than before, and the hare lay there, weeping bitterly, awaiting his death.
A short while later, Onamuchi came walking slowly along the same coastal path, still carrying the heavy burdens of his eighty brothers. He heard the faint, pitiful cries of the hare and followed the sound up the hill. When he saw the terrible, bleeding state of the little creature, Onamuchi’s heart broke. He immediately set down the heavy baggage, knelt beside the hare, and spoke in a soft, comforting voice, asking what had transpired to bring about such terrible suffering.