A long time ago in the Eastern Mountains there lived a village that had never experienced winter. Through the autumn to spring the temperatures cooled, but not once did the grey clouds ever yield a snowfall.

To the villagers this was normal, for they had no problems living without the snow. They could grow crops meant for summer without having to fear them getting frost bitten or drowned in white snow. They need not weave thick coats of straw to keep warm, but wear thinner garments all year around.

One day a samurai called Souichi who was travelling through the provinces to reach his home. He found himself lost in the mountains in late autumn. Not knowing where he was, he followed an old foot trail that led to a village surrounded by several fields of crops. He was shocked that the temperatures were warmer than usual. He wondered briefly if he had stumbled into the south by accident, but the places he had just passed through had been preparing for winter. Trees had lost their leaves and people were growing winter crops.

Here, however, was a village growing summer crops. Thick melons and squashes, flowering trees grains. It was like the land was locked in a state of summer.

Souichi entered the village where he was greeted by the villagers, who told him that not once had they ever experienced winter. The fourth season was something that their ancestors had spoken of long ago, but there was no one in the village now who had ever seen snow.

The samurai thought this curious, and asked for the cause. “Could it be a yokai that’s causing all this?”

None of the villagers knew, for they had never pursued this issue. They did not find it strange that winter did not exist. It was simply what they had never needed to. Why have four seasons when they could have three? Why want snow when they could grow crops all year around?

But Souichi was curious, believing there were evil spirits at work. While the village slept that night he snuck out to investigate. He travelled through the night toward the top of the mountain. There, he found a shrine marked with an old, wooden torii gate. At the shrine were laid offerings to the local kami, the guardian of the mountain.

The samurai noticed that past the shrine was a cave. He lit himself a torch for light and went inside.

Down, down, down Souichi went. He followed the passage until he was deep within the mountain. There, he found another cave within. Rocks spilled out from either side of the dark opening. The samurai tensed as he heard something stir. A low rumbling sounded from the hole, causing the ground and ceiling to shake. Fearful that the cave might collapse, Souichi turned to flee, but he found the entrance to be blocked!

Thrusting his torch at the passage, Souichi found that it was blocked by a six-fingered hand studded with claws. Its' massive, dark form was probably as big as three grown men. It looked nearly impossible for Souichi to fight his way out, but he was a samurai so he knew he had to try.

He hit the giant hand with the flaming torch, fire searing into the creature's skin. From the hole something hissed in pain, the echo causing the walls to shake. Souichi held on, burning through flesh until the hand finally recoiled. It slid back into the dark hold, almost dragging Souichi down with it! The samurai dodged, escaping the hand's grasp just in time before he was lost to the darkness.

A whiff of burned flesh wafted from the hole. Souichi held his breath, for it smelled like blood and rot. He quickly rushed toward the exit, dropping his torch in the cave. 

Once safely outside the samurai breathed deeply. The daylight and fresh air were a great comfort, but Souichi hadn't long to celebrate his escape. Any good samurai knows that once you escape you must cover your trail, ensure that that you cannot be followed. He found several large boulders which he rolled toward the cave's entrance, blocking off all access to that strange creature in the hole. Souichi sincerely hoped that none of the villagers would be curious enough to explore the cave.

Satisfied with his work, Souichi returned to the village for the night, keeping his sword near his pillow just in case the monster broke free to chase after him.

By morning Souichi was woken by the sounds of shouting. He woke quickly and went outside to see what was happening.

He couldn’t believe his eyes. It was snowing!

White flakes fell from the cloudy sky like cherry blossoms in spring. It coated the ground in a thin blanket, covering the thatched roofs of the houses, drowning the fields with cold.

Out in the village the children were playing, running around in their thin straw sandals, yelping when their feet grew too cold. The adults remained shocked, some standing indoors staring out, others out in the open air looking wondrously from the clouds. None of them had ever seen snow before, so this was quite a special occasion.

But some of the elders sat inside shaking their heads. They murmured to each other that something had changed, but none of them knew what.

Souichi couldn’t help but wonder if him blocking the entrance to the mountain cave had anything to do with this snow. Had the monster he'd fought somehow been the cause of the absence of winter? Would him trapping the beast begin annual snowfalls here?

The samurai did not stay to find out. He quickly left the next day for his home, never once looking back just in case it really had been his doing.

I heard that back in that village they now have winter snows. They can no longer grow summer crops all-year around, and they have had to adapt their homes for colder weather. I cannot say if they are angry at the samurai whose arrival changed the weather, since Souichi never returned to find out for himself.