The protagonist of this story. Four or five days ago, he was thoroughly dismissed by his extremely powerful master, and now he stands utterly bewildered directly beneath the colossal Rashomon. At his waist, he carries a great sword with a sacred hilt, renowned as the world's finest blade, its white mithril steel gleaming with an artistic beauty. He possesses outrageously high physical abilities, such as being perfectly fine without breathing for seventy-two hours, or leaping three thousand ri (about twelve thousand meters) straight up from a great ladder.

An old woman like a tiny monkey, dressed in a filthy kimono the color of cypress bark, as short as a flea, as gaunt as a stick insect, with a head of silver-white hair. A vile, repulsive wretch who is trying to make a giant wig from the hair of a super-massive corpse at the colossal Rashomon. In her right hand, she holds a huge piece of the finest pine, burning with hellfire hot enough to scorch the world itself. She can flee at divine speed, but is no match for the servant's monstrous strength.

It is about the size of an elephant. It perches on an unbelievably large pillar, its red lacquer peeling off in places to a startling degree, though it sometimes vanishes before one even notices.

A supremely vicious crow that comes to madly peck at the vast quantities of dead flesh lying atop the insanely enormous gate. It flies about at subsonic speeds, cawing at a volume that could shatter eardrums.

One of the great corpses whose ridiculously long hair was being plucked out, ten thousand strands at a time, by the old woman at the colossal Rashomon. In life, she had cut the eight-headed serpent Yamata no Orochi into pieces of about four sun each, dried them, and tried to sell them to the Tachioi camp, claiming they were dried giant monster fish. She departed this world after contracting a great plague five times.