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   It was probably the nicest train I had ever been on. The seats were beautiful leather, and the interior had a nostalgic academic feel with its taupe and hunter green upholstery. Small warmers in metal cages were sporadically placed under the seats in case of a chill, and many passengers dozed peacefully with masks and headphones on as the train silently glided us towards the Okayama Prefecture.

   “Where are we going again?” I asked my boyfriend, still half asleep and waiting for the Boss coffee I had chugged before we boarded the train to kick in.

   “We’re going to a town called Kurashiki. I want to visit this district to get a pair of jeans from a brand called Momotaro that I really like. Sorry I’m making you go all this way for jeans,” he replied sheepishly.

    I knew my boyfriend had a very particular taste in clothing, so these jeans had to be special. A quest for rare garments that we could only see while on this side of the globe seemed like a fine adventure to me, and I snuggled into my warm seat, settling in for the 30-minute ride. Being from Boston, I grew up with trains that have magical portal-traveling abilities. Unfortunately, it isn’t a useful one where you end up where you’re supposed to be faster; it’s quite the opposite. For some reason in Boston, most of the time, it takes about 45 minutes to get just about anywhere via public transit, even if it’s only 10 minutes away. So, long train commutes were normal for me. My phone was fully charged and full of ebooks, and Japan’s trains were quieter, comfier, and cleaner than any I had ever been on so far on the entire planet.

   “Momotaro. I’ve heard that name before,” I yawned, to my boyfriend, mouth masked and very quietly, of course. In Japan, it can be considered quite rude to have loud conversations, especially on the train, where you may bother other passengers attempting to rest.

   “Yeah, it’s the name of a little boy from a famous story. He was supposed to be from that area,” he whispered back, beginning the story while his fingers flew over his phone screen, googling photos and facts to show me to go along with the tale.

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Once upon a time in Okayama, near Kurashiki, there was an old couple who lived together at the edge of the woods. The two of them lived a happy, peaceful life together, doing little daily tasks and being kind to each other, every morning walking hand and hand before parting ways, the husband to chop wood for kindling and the wife to the river to wash laundry.

One morning, while kneeling beside the cold clear water, the woman noticed something strange bobbing along. She quickly reached out to grab it before the river carried it away, and in her hands, she found a round, juicy, soft peach. Delighted and wanting to share her strange river gift with her husband, she called out to the river asking to send more peaches, sweet ones, and that bitter ones should stay away.

    At that moment, an incredibly large peach appeared over the bend, floating towards the old woman in the river. It was the largest peach she had ever seen. It was the largest FRUIT she had ever seen!

   She hurriedly retrieved it from the river, and that night her husband stared at it in wonder. Surely a large peach must be full of juice, so they got an ax and set about splitting it open. When they split the peach open, they were surprised to see it fall away in half to reveal a baby boy.

   The old couple, having no children of their own, decided to keep their little peach boy and raise him as their own. Their little Momotaro—Momo, the word for peach, and Taro, a common Japanese boy’s name.

   The little boy was just a peach! Quite literally! The elderly couple raised him with care, and he grew to be kind, helpful, and strong but sometimes known to be a little complacent since everything was so easy for him.

   One day, while Momotaro was outside splitting wood, a frantic and distraught kite came soaring overhead, screeching and proclaiming the atrocities and thievery that had been recently committed by a Demon King on Demon Island. It implored the boy born from a peach to travel to Demon Island and end the cruelty the Demon King was causing to the people on the mainland nearby, since Momotaro had built himself a reputation of being the strongest in all the land.

   Momotaro told his parents of the kite’s plea and his plans for a hero’s quest. They feared for the safety of their peach boy, but they knew that at some point, every child must grow up. So, they dressed him for adventure, his father giving him a sword and his mother giving him a package of millet dumplings made with all her love.

   They waved a tearful goodbye to their son, and Momotaro set off on his quest. Not long after departing, along the road, Momotaro came across a dog. Never one to pass a dog without offering a friendly pat, the dog sniffed his hand hesitantly.

   “And who might you be? And where are you going with such a nice-smelling pouch of dumplings hanging at your waist?” asked the dog shyly and curiously.

   “I’m Momotaro! I’m on a quest to defeat the Demon King, and these are the best dumplings in all of Japan. My mother made them herself, just for me! They will make me as strong as 100 men!”

   “A noble quest,” nodded the dog solemnly, “And surely, dumplings made with a mother’s love and such powers are a valuable item to have on such a dangerous one. I’ll tell you, you give me one of those dumplings, and I’ll come with you on your quest.”

   Momotaro was never a selfish boy, and he readily accepted the help of the dog, handing over a dumpling. The dog quickly gobbled it down and seemed to stand at least 3 feet taller as he licked the last crumbs off his whiskers. The dog’s delight at Momotaro’s generosity made him trot closely and loyally at Momotaro’s heels, no longer shy of his new friend. Swinging down from a tree branch onto a nearby stone wall, a lanky monkey hailed them over.

   “Yo dog, hey there! You are looking awfully sharp today, man! Where are you and this boy off to? What kind of mischief has you hurrying?” he hooted at Momotaro and the dog as they approached the shaggy and wily monkey.

   “This is the famous hero Momotaro! Have you not heard of him?!” barked the dog incredulously, always loyal to a friend, no matter how new. “His mother makes the best millet dumplings in all of Japan. I just finished one myself, and now I feel like I have the strength of a hundred wolves! And now we are off to defeat the Demon King together!”

   The monkey, suspicious at first but never one to miss out on some trouble, fun, or food, perked his ears with interest. “Dumplings and demons, you say? An interesting afternoon plan indeed. Are there any more of those dumplings? You may need an extra set of fingers and toes if you’re to take on a King of Demons. Toss some my way and I’ll lend you a hand and a tail!”

   Momotaro tossed a dumpling over to the monkey, who ate it up greedily, licking his fingers clean with a new wild sheen dancing in his eyes.

   The three of them continued merrily along their way, howling and hooting of their plans for justice and victory with loud, raucous voices.

   High above, a pheasant heard their battle songs and fierce growls for battle. She circled above until she was just ahead of them.

   With a flash of her wings, she landed ahead of them, stopping their march. “Now, where might such loud travelers be going?” chirped the pheasant. “Are you up to no good? You’re making an awful racket!” she scolded them.

   Preening her feathers and craning her neck to get a good look at them, she noticed the bag still hanging at Momotaro’s waist and eyed it hungrily despite her wariness.

   Momotaro grinned and greeted the bird. “We are a trio of heroes on a mission to defeat the King of Demons and bring peace and happiness to the land! I have a sword from my father, dumplings from my mother, a loyal and strong dog to fight by my side, and a clever monkey to watch my back. No one will ever have to fear the King again once we are done!” he proclaimed, raising his new sword proudly towards the heavens.

   Her feathers ruffling and eyes darting towards the pouch again, she said, “What a quest! Surely your spoils will be great! And it seems you are a young man with a good head on your shoulders and a solid plan! Give me one of those dumplings and let me join you on your quest. You will never find a keener eye than mine, and a pair of wings can come in handy!” she implored.

   Happy to have even more of an advantage to defeat the Demon King, Momotaro held out a millet dumpling to the pheasant, who picked at it daintily.

   Suddenly, above them in the sunlight, the pheasant began to fly just ahead, scouting their way.

   They reached the dark green shores, frothy with foam, and Momotaro, with all of his strength and experience from helping his father chop kindling, quickly built a boat for the party to set out to the island under the guiding light of the moon.

   Once they reached the shores of Demon Island, as dawn began to fill the sky and the demons began to lay their heads, finally tired after spending the night drinking and celebrating their recent raids of the nearby towns, the pheasant, now shimmering from the vitality of the dumplings, flew over the walls of the king’s fortress with ease.

   She reported their positions to Momotaro, and the four heroes quickly took their places. Once again, the pheasant flew over the fortress, diving and pecking at the eyes of the unsuspecting, unconscious demon soldiers and lackeys. Rising with anger, most blinded by the pheasant’s sharp beak, they flailed their clubs in rage, hitting tables, chairs, each other, and pretty much everything but the graceful pheasant.

   As chaos ensued, the monkey swung down from above, stealing the clubs and knocking the demons about as they flung back and forth, futilely trying to figure out which way the monkey was going to swing next.

   As the battle began to roar, Momotaro, with his great strength and the dog, fortified by the millet dumplings, rammed the door as hard as they could, bursting inside with an explosion of wood and bolts.

   His sword already drawn, Momotaro cut down the demons one by one as the dog watched his flanks and aided in the biting of ankle and knee tendons, helping Momotaro bring down even the tallest and most frightening of the demons.

   The battle grew loud enough to be heard by every town nearby, and the Demon King awoke from his drunken slumber with an earth-rumbling growl.

   “WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS!” he shouted, slamming his way out of his personal chambers. “WHAT DISTURBS THE KING OF DEMONS!” Flames spouted from his ears, horns, whiskers, and fingertips, crackling dangerously.

   “I am Momotaro! And these are my friends! We have come to put an end to your looting and torment of the people of these lands and would have you stop at once!” Momotaro said, brandishing his sword before him without fear towards the enormous Demon King.

   “A boy? With a mongrel, a messy-looking monkey, and some bird? Order me to stop?” The King howled with laughter. “GUARDS! SEIZE THEM!” he ordered before slowly turning his head, still groggy from the festivities of the night before, and realizing that all of his guards and soldiers already lay defeated at his feet.

   Momotaro did not hesitate and seized the opportunity. The King’s guard fell for just a brief moment as he registered that the small, unassuming party had defeated all his minions.

   As Momotaro sprang forward, his katana piercing the gloom towards the King, the monkey howled a war cry and swung in from the left, grabbing the King by the ear and ripping the demon’s head around. The pheasant came from the right, meeting the King’s turning face with clawed feet first. At the same moment, the dog jumped as well, not quite as tall as Momotaro but still finding some very sensitive fleshy demon bits to latch onto, as Momotaro and his sword continued flying above him towards the demon’s heart.

   The friends may have been small, but they had each other, and they were strengthened by Momotaro’s mother’s dumplings. Momotaro’s sword struck true, and the Demon King let out a terrible roar as he stumbled forward into the blade, attempting to wrench away from the dog, monkey, and pheasant all at the same time. Finally, he fell to the ground, dead and no longer to rise with the twilight to steal and loot the lands of Okayama.

   Momotaro and his friends cheered and packed bags full of loot and treasure from the demon’s hoard. They decided to parade their way back through the lands, distributing the treasures back to the people who had been victims of the King for so long, before heading back to Momotaro’s home, to bring some of their spoils to Momotaro’s kind parents as well, and to see if perhaps his mother might cook some more of her millet dumplings for them to share as they celebrated their victory.

“間も無く倉敷駅 到着します!” “Mamonaku Kurashikieki touchaku shimasu!”

  The train intercom said, politely announcing our arrival to Kurashiki, Momotaro’s hometown.

   With my imagination dancing with peach boys floating down rivers and fire-breathing Demon Kings, we stepped out of the station and headed towards our first stop—the Bikan Historical Quarter.

   I hope you all enjoyed my version of Momotaro’s story! Next week, I’ll be telling you all about the Bikan Historical Quarter and all of the other wonderful things I got to see in Kurashiki!