Many centuries ago, when the lesser peoples still dwelt in the dark and ignorance, there lived amongst the human beings a samurai of no particular importance. One day his young and pretty wife informed him that she was with child. Elated, as this was to be his first child, the samurai went to the temple and made sacrafices to the appropriate gods and spirits of his family and master and in patience went about his life awaiting the child's birth.
On the day the child was born the samurai waited outside his wife's room while his village mid-wife and nurse and an old temple priest tended to his young and pretty wife. The samurai heard the birthing screams grew louder and knew that the childs arrival was nigh. Then came the child's cries and the samurai rose to his feet eager to look upon the child but instead was greeted with shrieks of horror and the mid-wife and nurse exploded from his wife's room and ran past him scraming in fear.
The samurai burst into the room. The priest lay dead upon the floor, his face twisted and aghast in terror. Yet when the samurai looked upon his wife, all seemed to be as it should. She lay peacefully resting from her labors and the child sickled from her breast.
The samurai lifted the child, anxious to look upon the face of his first born and found the source of the commotion for his child's face was so hideously ugly that he felt for a moment that he held a demon. His young and pretty wife looked up at him, apparently unaware of the child's countenance. The samurai began to tremble. So disconcerted by the child, the samurai drew his sword and slew his wife with a single stroke across her neck. He then fled his house with his newborn in his arms. Reaching a cliff high above the sea, he glanced at his child one last time and saw his first born was a son. Then raising his son high above his head, the samurai cast the new born child into the sea and, in the weariness of his new found insanity, followed; ending his life without his master's permission on the rock's along the shore.
