Ah, Okiku. Japan’s most dedicated servant girl turned supernatural icon. You know you’ve made it in life—or death—when people centuries later still associate you with broken crockery and obsessive counting.

Today, let’s dive into the story of this woman who tragically lost one plate and somehow gained a permanent place in Japan’s ghostly hall of fame.

Picture this: a dutiful servant girl in a samurai household, trying to make ends meet by not dropping priceless heirlooms. Okiku (お菊) was just your average hard-working woman, employed by one Aoyama Harima-no-kami (青山播磨守), a government official. She had one job—keep an eye on a set of ten fancy plates. Well, obviously, it didn’t end well.

This Okiku story is known as Sarayashiki (皿屋敷), which is a nationwide popular ghost story where the ghost of Okiku counts plates at night in a well, saying, ‘One, two…’

There are also some variations, including the most famous one in Edo (modern-day Tokyo) called Bancho Sarayashiki (番町皿屋敷), and the one in Himeji, which is called Banshu Sarayashiki (播州皿屋敷).

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As I said earlier, there are several variations in the Okiku story, so we can follow Bancho Sarayashiki, the most famous one.

The Place Incident

The whole story began when a dedicated servent girl, Okiku, broke one plate in the year 1653, at the estate of one Aoyama Harima-no-kami (青山播磨守). On the second day of the New Year, poor Kiku somehow managed to break one of ten extremely precious plates.

The lady of the house was livid, but not nearly as theatrical as her husband. Aoyama didn’t just scold her—he decided that lopping off Okiku’s middle finger would be a far more reasonable form of compensation. He then locked her in confinement.

Now, Okiku—understandably distressed, bleeding—somehow escaped and flung herself into the old well out back.

Ghosting… Literally: The Counting Curse

And thus began the most passive-aggressive haunting in Japanese folklore.

Not long after Okiku’s untimely swan dive, the entire estate began echoing with her ghostly voice, counting plates from the bottom of the well:
“Ichi-mai… Ni-mai… San-mai…” (“One… Two… Three…”)

Every night. Like a spectral countdown to doom. She’d always stop at nine…because of the missing plate.

But wait—karma hadn’t quite finished the job. A short time later, Aoyama’s wife gave birth to a child. Sounds wholesome, right? Well, the baby was missing its right middle finger. Coincidence? Sure. And I suppose the haunted well was just “a bit echoey.”

Eventually, even the authorities got wind of the scandal, which led to Aoyama being stripped of his land and titles. Shocking, really, considering he only dismembered and drove a servant girl to suicide over a dish.

Unfortunately, Okiku was still counting every night—relentless, obsessive, and no doubt irritating the new tenants. So Ryoyo Shonin (了誉上人), a monk from a temple was called to distress her.

One evening, while Ryoyo Shonin was reciting prayers, the counting began again:
“Hachi-mai… Kyu-mai…” (“Eight… Nine…”)

And just when Okiku went lost in her silence for the missing plate, Ryoyo Shonin casually added,
“Ten.”

Suddenly, Kiku’s ghost let out a delighted, “Ara Ureshiya (あらうれしや/Oh, how lovely) !” and vanished, just like that.

Where is Okiku’s Well?

If you’re dying to visit the place where Okiku allegedly launched her career as Japan’s most persistent ghost, head to Himeji Castle (姫路城). Just below the main keep, in a little area charmingly named “Kamiyamasato (上山里)”, you’ll find a well now famously known as “Okiku’s Well (お菊井戸)”.

Sounds authentic, right? Well—brace yourself—it’s not.

Despite what the tour guides and souvenir shops might suggest, no one actually knows where the real well is. It was only dubbed “Okiku’s Well” after Himeji Castle opened to the public in the Taisho period. Before that? Not a whisper.

And although one variation of the Okiku story resides in Himeji, the most famous one is based in Tokyo. Well, maybe your mental health should give up looking for the well and just enjoy the scary story as it is.

Okiku isn’t just the ghost. She is also part of the original terrifying trio, long before Sadako crawled out of a telly.

That’s right: her tale, known as Sarayashiki, is considered one of Japan’s Three Great Ghost Stories (日本三大怪談). And who are the other two members of this elite undead club?

From Yotsuya Kaidan (四谷怪談), the woman whose face was so horrifically disfigured by betrayal and poison that she came back from the grave to ruin everyone’s lives.

From Botan Doro (牡丹燈籠), the ghost who just wanted a bit of romance—except she was, you know, already dead. But love conquers all, including decomposition.

Okiku…The Woman, The Myth, The Missing Plate

Okiku’s story is the stuff of legends—because it combines everything that scares Japanese in a ghost story: unjust death, obsessive behaviour, and the haunting consequence of minor infractions.

Was she a victim of samurai-era patriarchy? Absolutely. A woman whose name was dragged into countless versions of the same grim tale? Definitely. But most of all, Okiku reminds us: if you’re going to die tragically, do it with flair—and maybe a memorable catchphrase.

Just make sure you don’t lose any plates along the way.