What Is The Chronological Order Of Onmyouji Novels?

Walking home with a book tucked under my arm on a rainy evening, I dove back into the world of 'Onmyoji' and felt that familiar chill of ancient Kyoto and clever, understated magic. The heart of the series—across Baku Yumemakura's novels and Reiko Okano's gorgeous manga adaptation—is the pair Abe no Seimei and Minamoto no Hiromasa. Seimei is the legendary onmyoji: calm, almost otherworldly, with a sharp intellect and a habit of seeing patterns where others see chaos. Hiromasa, his companion, is warm-blooded and human in a way Seimei isn’t—often a musician or courtier depending on the version—providing emotional grounding and a lens through which readers experience Seimei’s mysteries. Beyond that duo, several recurring figures give the stories texture. Ashiya Doman stands out as Seimei’s foil—a rival onmyoji whose methods and motives clash dramatically with Seimei’s. Then there are court nobles, emperors, courtesans, and a parade of yokai and spirits whose personalities range from mischievous to tragic. Different adaptations expand or shift focus: the novels dwell on philosophical duels and historical detail, the manga brings visual elegance to Seimei’s rituals, and modern retellings or games riff on the roster with new supporting characters or shikigami. For me, the pleasure is watching how each medium reshapes the same core trio—Seimei, Hiromasa, and the antagonistic presence of Doman—while letting side characters steal scenes in small, unforgettable ways.

I've been chewing on the differences between the 'Onmyoji' novels and the movie for years, partly because I binged the books on long train rides and then watched the film in a tiny theater where everyone gasped at the visuals. The novels by Baku Yumemakura (and the long-running prose tradition they come from) are episodic and luxuriate in atmosphere: slow-building tension, detailed descriptions of Heian court politics, ritual procedure, and the kind of interiority that lets you linger in Abe no Seimei's mind. There are tons of short-story vibes, side-story characters, and a patient pace that rewards the curious reader who wants folklore, historical asides, and subtle moral ambiguity. The movie has a different job: it compresses, heightens, and externalizes. Plotlines are merged or cut, some minor characters become composites, and emotional beats are rewritten so a two-hour runtime feels cohesive. Expect bigger visual set pieces—demons, exorcisms, and costume-driven spectacle—and less room for long meditations on ritual detail. The film also tends to tweak relationships (a hint more romance or rivalry in places) and sometimes alters an ending or moral emphasis to deliver cinematic closure. I love both: the books for their depth and strange, wandering charm; the film for the design, music, and punch. If you want the full, weird, historical-foothold experience, start with the novels; if you want a concentrated emotional hit with gorgeous visuals, watch the film. Either way, both versions feed into each other—reading a chapter after watching a scene made some moments click for me in a way that felt really rewarding.

My shelf tells stories — some plush, some acrylic, and a couple of boxed figures still waiting for display — and they all trace back to 'Onmyoji' in one way or another. If you’re hunting collectibles for the franchise, expect a wide spectrum: official PVC/scale figures, chibi-style figures and blind-box miniatures, plushies (from tiny keychain plush to cuddle-sized ones), acrylic stands, enamel pins, keychains and charms, clear files and postcards, artbooks and printed fanbooks, soundtrack CDs and vinyl, and special-edition game boxes or event goods. There are also practical items dressed in lore: themed phone cases, mouse pads, dakimakura covers, and calendars featuring character art. Beyond the usual merch, there’s a strong niche for shrine-like props: replica ofuda (paper talismans), wooden omamori-style charms, folding fans, and masks inspired by the onmyōji aesthetic. Limited-run resin garage kits and high-end statues also pop up for collectors who want museum-quality pieces. Prices vary wildly — blind-box minis and keychains sit at the low end, while rare scale figures and resin statues can climb into hundreds or even thousands of dollars. For authenticity, I check official store tags and event stamps, and I try to keep receipts/COAs when buying expensive pieces. Where to score stuff: official online shops, event booths at anime expos, dedicated retailers like Mandarake or specialty auction sites, and secondhand markets like Mercari or eBay. Fan circles on Twitter/Weibo, Discord trades, and creator marketplaces (Etsy, Booth) are treasure troves for doujin or custom items. If you’re starting, decide whether you want mass-market cuteness, premium display pieces, or ritual-inspired props — that narrows the chaos and makes hunting way more fun.

I get this question a lot in forums when someone rediscovers older supernatural shows, so here's how I usually explain it: 'Shōnen Onmyōji' (often written 'Shonen Onmyoji') is one of those series that pops up in different places depending on the country and licensing deals. It’s not one of the constantly-rotating big-hitter simulcasts, so availability can be patchy — sometimes a service has it for a year, then it disappears. That’s why the first practical tip I give is to check universal streaming-finder sites like JustWatch or Reelgood; they scan your country and tell you where a title is legally available to stream, buy, or rent. If you want a quick checklist from my own experience digging for older shows: look at Crunchyroll, HiDive, Netflix, Amazon Prime Video, and Hulu first. In parts of Asia, services like Bilibili, iQIYI, or YouTube’s official anime channels occasionally have older anime licensed for that region. If streaming fails, check digital stores — Google Play, Apple iTunes, and Amazon often sell seasons or episodes. And don’t forget physical media: some older series only survive in DVD/Blu-ray releases that show up in specialist shops or secondhand markets. I often end up buying discs for shows I’m emotionally attached to; there’s something comforting about that shelf of spines. If you want, tell me your country and I can walk you through checking the current options — streaming catalogs flip around more than we’d like, so a quick localized lookup usually solves it.

If you want the most atmospheric, textural introduction to onmyouji stories, I’d hand you 'Onmyoji' first and tell you to clear an evening for it. The manga adaptation I'm thinking of is the one that leans into classical Heian-period vibes: slow-burning, ritual-rich, and gorgeous to look at. Its art treats every kimono fold and shrine lantern like part of the story, so the mood—the hush of incense, the formal speech, the uncanny touches—lands in a way a fast-paced shonen simply can’t replicate. If you like folklore, court intrigue, and a protagonist who’s more wry strategist than punch-first hero, this is where the genre’s atmosphere is best shown. I actually read a chunk of it under a desk lamp with a cup of tea and an uneasy feeling that a yokai might be hiding behind the bookshelf—exactly the vibe you want. Expect a measured pace, a lot of historical color, and recurring characters whose relationships deepen over many chapters. If the slow ritual scenes feel dense at first, stick with a few volumes: the payoff is in the cumulative weight of small details. After this, if you crave something breezier, you can hop to more modern takes, but for pure, classic onmyouji tone, 'Onmyoji' is my top pick.

Every time I dive into a late-night reread of 'The Tale of Genji' or scroll through illustrations of Heian court life, I get this itch to sort myth from fact about onmyōji. The short truth: popular portrayals borrow real pieces of Heian-era onmyōdō (the yin-yang arts) but sprinkle them with centuries of legend, theatrical flair, and modern fantasy. Historically, onmyōji were specialists in calendar-making, astrology, divination, and court rituals—part of a government bureau called the Onmyōryō. They ran the calendar, scheduled ceremonies to avoid unlucky days, warned about portents, and handled formal exorcisms. Someone like Abe no Seimei really existed as a court figure, but the spectacular demon-slaying sorcerer we see in films and anime is a later, romanticized layer piled onto a bureaucratic role. What fascinates me is how the cosmology itself is accurate: Heian onmyōdō drew from yin-yang theory and the Five Phases, plus Buddhist and Shinto ideas imported and adapted from the continent. The capital’s layout, the obsession with directions (the feared northeast 'kimon' or demon gate), and secular rituals to avert disaster are all rooted in real practice. But when a show depicts giant summoned beasts, glowing talismans that explode, or a lone, stylish onmyōji wandering the countryside as a freelance exorcist, that’s more Edo-period folklore and modern fantasy than Heian office life. I usually end up comparing sources—'Konjaku Monogatari' and imperial records like the 'Engishiki' hint at these roles, while novels and kabuki later vamp them up. If you crave authenticity, look for mentions of calendars, court duties, and geomancy; if you want spectacle, enjoy the legends. Either way, the mix of real ritual and myth is what makes the onmyōji so endlessly fun to read about and watch.

If you’ve been digging through bookstore listings or stalking online auctions wondering whether you can read 'Onmyoji' in English, here’s what I’ve learned after way too many late-night searches and library trips. The short, honest version: a complete official English translation of the original Japanese novel series is basically not available. The novels that kicked off the whole Abe no Seimei revival are adored, adapted and referenced a lot — there are manga adaptations, movies, and stage plays that have English-subtitled releases — but the core novel series hasn’t been widely released in an official, complete English edition. What you can find officially in English are certain adaptations and spin-offs: manga versions and movie tie-ins often get English subtitles or licensed comic releases, and some short excerpts or retellings have shown up in anthologies or translated essays. If you’re like me and don’t want to wait forever, check a few places: library catalogs (WorldCat), publisher announcements, and the listings on major booksellers for ISBN-confirmed translations. Fan translations are out there and can be very readable, but keep in mind they’re unofficial and vary in quality. I still hope a publisher picks up the novels properly — they’d be a joy to reread in English with a careful translation — so I keep my wishlist updated and my fingers crossed.

I got hooked on the 'Onmyoji' films long before I dove into the novels, and one thing that always stuck with me was the music. If you’re asking who actually composed for the major adaptations, the clearest concrete name is Shigeru Umebayashi — he composed the haunting, cinematic scores for the live-action Japanese films 'Onmyoji' (2001) and its sequel 'Onmyoji II' (2003). Those soundtracks have that sweeping, elegiac feel that fits the Heian-period supernatural vibe: lots of strings, mournful motifs, and a classical-orchestral palette woven with Japanese textures. I still find myself playing a track from that OST when I want something atmospheric for late-night reading of yokai tales. Beyond Umebayashi, the situation branches depending on medium and country. There are anime, TV, stage and modern film takes inspired by onmyoji themes, and different composers show up across them. For example, some anime or series that riff on the onmyoji/mythology aesthetic often bring in composers from the anime world — people who specialize in eerie or mystical palettes. If you’re hunting OSTs, check the credits for each title (anime episodes, movie listings, game manuals) because the composer roster changes a lot between adaptations. Also, for more recent Chinese adaptations inspired by the same source material, look for modern film composers credited on releases like 'The Yin-Yang Master' variants — those soundtracks tend to mix electronic and orchestral textures and will list their composers in the film credits or soundtrack liners. If you want, I can pull together a short list of specific adaptations (film vs anime vs game) and the precise composer credits for each one — that way you’ll have exact OST names to look up on streaming services or import sites. Personally, I always go hunting on YouTube and CDJapan for the physical soundtrack — the liner notes there usually confirm the composer and arrangers, which is a neat rabbit hole if you love how the music complements the supernatural themes.