She who waits alone in the wood of Sakura Trees
By order of the SCP-8152 project lead, and approved by O4-7, this file has been re-structured. The following text must be read to access the main file.
Addendum 1 - Text of SCP-8152-2
Page 1.
I was bleeding under a Sakura tree. Another fox attacked me for my white fur, and my only defence was the distance my young paws could carry me. Back then I could not speak, or really think. I did not understand kindness, gratitude, or love. I knew only fear, panting, pressed against the reddening wood of the Sakura tree. Then gnarled hands held stitched silk to my wound.
She gave me a gift better than life or my name. Her hobbled figure taught me what no one else could;
The stitchwork feeling of human love.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
We can say with certainty that the events here described happened in Japan. This piece itself gives us no immediate time period, or really much in the way of detail. What stands out to me here is how confusingly the piece is written. It is very visceral, and does not give really any accurate details. This, and later pieces, lead me to believe these memories are genuinely those of a fox seen through a somewhat more human lense.
That would imply that at this point, the fox had not yet developed any anomalous properties. It should however be noted that albinism in Hokkaido foxes is incredibly uncommon. Such white foxes are believed in traditional mythology to be messengers of the moon god.
Page 2.
I remember her brightest smile. A special gift only for me, something that even I could understand.
The forest was ours alone. Her wooden den, tucked between great trees at the outskirts of town. My burrowed home, right beneath it. The trees formed a green cloak so thick it could hide us from the sky itself. In their shadows, even I could hunt. It was my home, and in a way I didn’t understand, my happiness.
She called me to give me that smile. I barely noticed the big men with bigger axes, or even heard the gasps and shouts. There was only the moment of hope that I could make her happy too.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
A few notes here on translation. Firstly, her 'Den' almost certainly refers to a house. The implication in the original text is something very similar to a burrow. However, it is clear to me that this old lady must've lived in a shrine or cottage.
Regarding the very vague final paragraph, I would like to advance a theory. Going on a limb, I believe the men may have been out to destroy the shrine or cottage. If it was indeed a shrine, then the sudden appearance of a white fox, given the mythological significance of the animal, may have showed some 'divine favor' in the eyes of the men. This would explain the gasps.
Ultimately, my theory is just conjecture. I believe the purpose of this piece is likely simply to convey a state of happiness.
Page 3.
She died how I wanted her to, under a Sakura tree. Her bony arms stroked my white fur, growing gradually slower. Her head drifting down, heavy with the weight of a life well spent. Her drooping smile burnt itself into even the short memory of a fox.
But her death was not how I wanted it. I felt her warmth fade and knew with animal certainty she would not be back. Her hand stopped moving, the sensation slipped away. With my second tail came a terrible new clarity. Her slumped body was my realization that I had ceased to be a fox, that I had become her equal, that I could finally truly feel.
I looked on the woman I loved, and with growing hatred for the cruel gods, I realized our paths had never truly crossed. After all,
I don’t even know her name.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
I take this as confirmation of my theory that the Scp entity had not yet 'matured'- I have a few reasons for believing this. Firstly, the text mentions the entity 'ceased to be a fox', implying a transition. This interacts with the mention of 'being able to feel', implying the entity had gained a greater awareness. Most striking, though, is the line 'I don't even know her name'. Not only is it in the present tense, unlike the rest of the piece, but I think it can reasonably be taken to mean that a fox could not remember or understand a name, whereas the newly formed entity could.
I also draw particular attention to the 'growing of a tail'. While some may contend this process is linked to great tragedy, I believe it is connected to 'learning a lesson'. In Japanese mythology, fox spirits number of tails corresponds to their wisdom. One acquires wisdom by learning. Further, this piece is framed as being a 'moment of realization'.
Page 4.
I met a helpful man among the Sakura rows. Asai, humans call him. The trees had been beaten into neat columns now. Humans kept only the Sakura; I think to brighten the dead pavement that grew ever deeper into my forest. The Meiji fever had even cost me her little wooden shrine, leveled so they might lay ever more dumb square rocks.
I feel in him stitchwork silk-wrapped hands. He has given me a human gift so wondrous it makes a billion pavement stones worthwhile. He has taught me how to defeat time, to never forget another feeling. I am a fox- in my head, things cannot last.
He sits next to me, teaching me how to make memories last forever on thin tablets of the Sakura tree.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
The most obvious thing of note here is the mention of 'Meiji fever'. It's unclear how long the gap between pages 3 and 4 is, but as of page 4, we can set a relatively precise time period. Pages 1, 2, 3, and 4 were all added to the book at roughly the same time according to carbon dating. Carbon dating remains relatively inaccurate though, so we are left with a potential time period between roughly 1870 and 1910.
Mention of the entity learning to write is also very interesting though. It is generally thought that very long-lived entities would have a superior memory to humans, however, the entity specifically likens its own memory to that of a fox. If we picture how well an eighty-year-old human can remember something from when they are twenty, if we were to then map in the lifespan of a fox we would get very dramatic memory degradation. That would explain the entities need to maintain a diary, and the importance it places on this diary.
It's also notable that she likens this new 'Helpful man' to the old lady. She may consider his teaching her to write an 'unconditional kindness', like when she was originally saved.
From here on, every page was written at a different time, meaning this signals the creation of the book.
Page 5.
It is a strange human world- I think I understand why it needs Sakura trees. He talks about drab streets in a place called Manchukuo, of businesses and holdings he has there. Apparently, the world is full of people with big noses and small cultures, and they don’t like us. I do not mind, I prefer the game.
He plays it often now- he will sit next to me, and inch closer. He means to catch me with surprise, but I am always faster, I escape because I am a fox. It frustrates him that he cannot beat me- I laugh.
That is why humans keep them, when everything is replaced by dead cobblestone, even the sun isn’t warm, unless it is spraying dapple through a Sakura tree.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
We can now narrow our timeframe somewhat further. It appears that we are somewhat chronologically later than we first thought. The Japanese puppet state of Manchukuo was created in 1932, so this page must have been written at some point after that date.
It is also notable that Asai, the 'helpful man' is exposing the entity to Japanese propaganda thinking leading up to the second world war. We can assume he will continue to be a shaping influence on her from here on, acting as a somewhat biased 'tutor'.
Lastly, I find it quite clear that Asai is attempting to engage the entity romantically. Given his age and status, he may be in need of a wife. Given that the entity has been noted to be quite attractive, his intentions could also be more purely carnal. However, given the amount of time he has invested, I doubt this is the case.
Page 6.
He is an idiot, a fool, to dare to stumble in drunk under my Sakura trees!
His feet were heavy, and his breath stank. I didn’t remember him to be so dumb, or so vulnerable, cloaked in a warm summer night. He muttered about failures in the war, about money lost, and he muttered about me.
“Why do you never give back?” he asked me- sake fire on his breath. I asked him what he meant.
“I do everything for you!” He demanded “You need to do more than take!”
I feel his hot hands still- he grabbed the side of my face- he pulled me in to kiss him.
I hit him. I ran.
I am angry, but I am afraid, because I have not seen him since.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
Given his reference to 'failures in the war', and the knowledge that he had holdings in Manchukuo, we can now assume that this piece was written quite late into the second world war. While it is possible he is referring to damage caused by Chinese partisans, it seems more likely he is referring to American victories which began to seep into the Japanese public consciousness in 1944 and 1945. This gives us our most precise date yet.
I personally find the following interaction to be somewhat frustrating. It seems to me that the entire time, despite his obvious advances, the entity never actually considered that he might have an ulterior motive to helping her. I believe her misconception about there being 'purely good' people may have come from her time as a fox, when she could not understand what she was giving in exchange for kindness.
Page 7.
I am writing in the ash of my sakura trees. So many of my trees were broken- blasted- burnt- I thought I did not have the heart to put it to memory. Yet, I use their ash to write this, because I found a truer heartbreak.
He ran to warn me. Fire, he said. I saw his uniform first- he would never let it get that messy. I was afraid.
With him came the bombs.
I showed him my tails- I wrapped him in my biggest self- hid him behind fur and snarled vengeance at fire. But I was burning with those trees. When their wood was gone, I would be gone too.
Yet I am alive, and he is not. The smoke killed him, I pray. Held to his still heart, he had my wooden memories. It is the only splinter of the Sakura tree unburnt.
It is because of him that I am alive.
With the horrible realisation that after his foolishness, he died for me, my third tail grew. How could I ever have wished this knowledge upon him.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
I find this piece somewhat disturbing. It was written in ash, and only later painted over with ink.
Regardless, it is also informative. American bombing raids did not intensify to the level described until early-mid 1945, giving us a period of maybe a few months when this was likely written.
We are also aware that the entity depends on the presence of Sakura trees to live. Therefore, we can surmise that the entity survived the firebombing attack only because it was drawing its 'life' from the small booklet we are currently reading. While he likely did not understand what he was doing, in this sense, he offered his life to save the entity. It is unclear exactly how he died- our main theories are heat stroke, smoke, or that the sheer size of the fox suffocated him.
The entity then also acquires another tail. Some may contend that the process here is actually a sort of 'life absorption', as progress seems to match deaths. However, I believe that in understanding that Asai wanted something from her, but still cared about her enough to die for her, she learned a valuable lesson about the nature of people. It should be noted that she does not seem to actually forgive him though.
Page 8.
I was so afraid.
He had a walking tooth of sharp metal. His wagon screamed. His face was hard. For a man, he was too big. He grabbed me in burly hands, and in his great chuckle, I felt hunger.
I was so terribly afraid.
Americans eat babies. They rape women. They kill men. They do not know mercy- they are monkeys- to them, we are not people. What else could I think when they erased my helpful man as a matter of mathematics. They never gave him the honor of even drawing his blade.
If I had had the strength to change into a woman, I would not have done it. I was too afraid. They called him Greer; what could such a savage name do to me.
So he took my wood-bound memories from my teeth, and carried me along. He fed me food I did not need, and laughed at my attempts to flee. I was pitiful. And he took me across the sea.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
This was written sometime after the story it describes. According to an analysis of the ink, pages 8, 9, and 10 were all written at the same time.
Following this piece, I did some reading into Japanese attitudes towards Americans during the war. What struck me was the strength of Japanese propaganda, and how completely Japanese citizens believed that Americans would very literally eat children. Given that Asai was the entity's only information source until now, it's clear that these prejudices were deeply ingrained into the entity.
I want to draw particular attention to the line 'as a matter of mathematics'. Post-war, many Japanese officers complained that the American way of war was 'wise' but dishonorable. Essentially that the American's would stand and have a fair fight. It is possible she took Asai as a warrior, and takes issue not just with his death, but the fact that he never had a chance to fight.
The most interesting thing here, though, is that the American (one 'Samuel Greer' of whom we have record) seems completely oblivious to the entity's true nature. Given the very low volume of sakura wood available to the entity, she seemed unable to shape-shift. Hence, it seems that Greer adopted what he must have believed was simply a very strange fox.
Page 9.
He kept me as a pet.
I could not talk- could not protest- I was too small to rend him with my teeth and claws. I was forced merely to live, while up on the mantlepiece, to be cooed over by his American wife, he kept my memories. I bit him many times, but he did not strike me. He simply laughed, though his blood tasted sweet.
One day, he read my memories.
He had a Japanese person here. She translated it. I will never forgive him for what he did that night.
When we were alone, he saw me staring at the book. I cannot take it from my mind- the way he stared- the way he stepped closer to me- the way his fists balled tight-
The way he began to cry.
I hate him because he is an American, and he regretted what he'd done.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
Given Greer's sudden change from happy pet owner to crying and apologetic, I think we can safely be assured that Greer truly did not know he was kidnapping a sentient being when he adopted the entity.
I do not believe there is much more to say here. We know that Samuel Greer moved back to the USA after doing a tour of occupation in 1949. Beyond that, we cannot specifically date this story, but we presume it happened at some point in the fifties.
Page 10.
He made for me trees of Sakura wood, and learned for me my tongue. If all Americans are rich, then why does his wife look so sullen.
When first the petals bloomed I too bloomed into my full form. My mouth still had fangs, so I spoke to him with my claws. When my teeth were about to dig into his fragile neck, he said in drawling Japanese;
"I'm sorry- you were just a fox. Forgive me in death."
"I am still a fox." I say, and try to sink my teeth into the prey. Among the trees he planted for me, I cannot slaughter him, for I cannot bear that another might die for me. To offer his life was too Japanese. I see in him a helpful man. He lets me write this, and I will never let him read it.
I am trapped still- for trees cannot walk- and Americans do not speak Japanese.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
The first obvious note here is that Greer provides the entity with new Sakura wood, effectively increasing the power it has access to, and allowing it to shapeshift again. Foundation obtained financial records show he made these purchases in the late 50s, assuming some time for the trees to grow, we can imagine this may have been written around 1960.
Interesting is also the entity's desire to see those lost in others. The entity refers here to him as a 'helpful man', drawing back to Asai. It seems that the entity believes Greer would be dying like Asai for the entity.
Notably, pages 10, 9, and 8 were all written at once, presumably in the writing session described at the end of the piece.
Page 11.
How quickly I took to a married man, who stole me across the ocean, and displayed my very soul upon his mantlepiece.
In the arguments he had with her, I heard a helpful man. On his dirt-covered hands, as he planted my spring-blossom forest, I felt a helpful man. With his assurances he would not leave me in a foreign land even as his world crumbled, I knew a helpful man.
It took her but a year of my whispered backroom Japanese and his soul-filled sakura tree labor to leave.
He did not follow her, and I saw standing there a helpful man. I wrapped him in my tail and bit his lip with harmless human teeth. I held him close to me. I wanted to take my helpful man into me.
But my helpful man had choked on the smoke of American war.
I let the American go.
My helpful man is dead.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
It appears that Greer kept the presence of the entity a secret from his wife, Maria Farmer. In 1963, Maria Farmer divorced Samuel Greer, claiming that he was having an affair. From the text, it appears that things never actually got that far, but between the constant presence of an unseen female in the house and Greer's sudden change in behavior, her conclusion is understandable.
It seems that the entity was unable to overcome the ingrained hatred of Americans she had been taught. I find this to be very unfortunate. It is also interesting how much Asai is projected onto Greer, although Greer does appear very genuinely helpful.
Page 12
My Sakura petals are turning red.
He seeps into them- his body broken against the tree. It is terrible, that Americans have so little subtlety. Exploding sticks and exploding heads, so loud, so hard to ignore. I hate Americans. I have killed a hundred birds. So why, when I see death written on a scrappy white strip, can I not stop shaking.
'I'm sorry.
Maybe now you can forgive me.'
By some trick of America, he left me my freedom. He gave me this new place. Why did he write me as his wife, when he must only have sought me as a mistress? Why do the corridors of this place feel so hollow? Why do a hundred birds hunted free taste like nothing at all?
I have learnt from him the most terrible lesson. As I heard the crack in the garden, my fourth tail sprouted. I have learnt the awful cost of living among memories of Sakura wood.
How could I have been such a fool.
My petals will never be white again.
Analysis by Doctor Hannah Forder, Semi-Formal
In May of 1964, Samuel Greer committed suicide with a Winchester rifle. He shot himself in the head. The coroner blamed the divorce. It seems clear to me that in reality, his rejection by this woman, and his inability to forgive himself for the things he did for her were the real cause.
It is also clear that Greer probably cared deeply about the entity. They would have lived together for several years. In his will, Greer wrote that he had had a 'secret marriage', and attempted to bequeath the estate on her. This was likely a final attempt to 'set things right'.
This leads then to what is again framed as a lesson, with the sprouting of the entity's fourth tail. Here, the lesson would be about the importance of learning to forgive people, and not live entirely in ones own memories. I believe her own failure to forgive Greer that ultimately killed him, though we can never know exactly what transpired between them.
From the coroner's report, the permanently red petals on the Sakura trees at the estate are where Greer shot himself.
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