Storm Peipah Rages Through Southern Japan

They said it was just a tropical storm. Peipah. A name most in Japan entered calmly into their weather apps. But by September 5, 2025, that modest label could not contain the ferocity unleashed across Shikoku, Wakayama, and the Pacific-facing coasts. Torrents of rain, winds that tore through homes, a tornado of historic proportions—and a community pushed to its limits.

Genesis of a Storm

Peipah’s story began far from Japan’s shores. Around August 30, near Palau, meteorologists spotted a low-pressure area—one that would grow more organized by early September. The Philippines Atmospheric agency, PAGASA, declared it a tropical depression on September 2, naming it “Kiko.” As it pushed northward, the Japan Meteorological Agency (JMA) recognized it forming into a tropical storm on September 4, christening it “Peipah.”

Its path was steady: sweeping near the Ryukyu Islands, then curving to make landfall in southern Japan. First over Sukumo in Kōchi Prefecture in the early hours of September 5, then later that morning the system struck again in northern Wakayama as it crossed the rugged Kii Peninsula. Even as Peipah began to lose its tropical identity later that day, what it left behind had already carved its place in Japan’s records.

A Quiet Warning Before Chaos

Japan, no stranger to storms, was diligent. Heavy rain and landslide warnings issued by JMA, especially for western and central prefectures. Coastal ministries and local governments nudged transport authorities to prepare for disruption. Evacuations were urged—not optional—in high-risk zones. More than 600,000 people were told to move to safer ground.

Along the Pacific coast, clouds gathered, skies darkened. The winds whispered first, then screamed.

The Path of Destruction

Shizuoka Prefecture: Front and Center

While Peipah battered many regions, Shizuoka saw perhaps its worst. In the city of Makinohara, roofs lost their tiles. Steel-framed storefronts saw their wall cladding ripped off. Trucks overturned. Utility poles snapped like toys. Greenhouses—fragile as they are to the elements—were shredded. In Yaizu, a farmer was left with a severe facial fracture when his greenhouse collapsed under wind forces.

At the height of Peipah’s fury, some 17,000 homes in Shizuoka lost power. Not just a flicker, but full outages stretching across Makinohara and parts of Yaizu, Kakegawa, and Yoshida Town.

The rain was relentless. Local reports recorded hourly rainfall in certain zones reaching 110-120 mm—enough to swamp drainage, undermine hillsides, and trigger floods.

Tornado: Unleashing Unprecedented Force

Then came the real shock. Around 12:50 p.m. JST on September 5, the skies over Makinohara and Yoshida gave way to chaos—a tornado, born in Peipah’s outer bands, touching down with fury.

The Japan Meteorological Agency later assessed this tornado as JEF3 on its scale—a level rarely reached in Japan. Wind speeds were estimated at 75 meters per second (about 270 km/h, or 168 mph). Steel framing was bent, whole wall sections ripped away. Vehicles tossed as if toys. Homes, greenhouses, utility poles—all bore the scars.

Elsewhere in Shizuoka, about 20 minutes before that tornado struck, another destructive wind event hit Kakegawa. That was classified as JEF2, with gusts around 55 meters per second (nearly 200 km/h). It, too, caused serious damage: roofs ripped, structures compromised, people injured.

Human Cost & Material Destruction

At least 89 people were injured—eight severely, the rest with lighter injuries. A fatality was recorded: a person in a vehicle overturned by the tornado. Countless structures were damaged. Official damage figures put it at over 1,300 structures in Makinohara, Yoshida, and surrounding areas: homes destroyed or severely damaged, greenhouses obliterated, utility infrastructure shredded.

In Shizuoka overall, 24 people were wounded (three severely) and dozens of houses destroyed or partially damaged. Several hundred houses lost roof tiles; many had structural damage. Power cuts, road closures, train suspensions—an entire region felt incapacitated.

Flooding, Landslides, and Overflowing Rivers

Peipah was more than wind. Its rains fell clouds’ worth. Rivers swelled beyond capacity. Slopes unstable with saturated soil threatened collapse. Landslides were reported in hilly areas, and flash floods struck communities near smaller waterways and drainage channels.

Across impacted prefectures, roads were washed out; bridges threatened. In Shizuoka, siding along the Pacific coast, the pounding rains triggered emergency alerts. In one city, linear bands of storm clouds dumped over 110 mm of rain in an hour—a deluge capable of overwhelming urban and rural defences alike.

Infrastructure, Transport, and the Chaos Beyond

The cascading effects of Peipah extended beyond immediate damage. Services buckled.

Power Outages: Tens of thousands of households were plunged into darkness. Grid damage—downed lines, toppled poles—made restoration difficult.
Train & Rail Disruption: Local train lines shut down. Some segments of the Tōkaidō Shinkansen—Japan’s pride in high-speed rail—were suspended temporarily, as safety checks and infrastructure assessments were needed.
Roads and Highways Closed: Especially in mountain passes and coastal highways, flooding and landslides made certain roads impassable.
Evacuation and Shelter: More than half a million people evacuated to shelters or safer zones. Local governments scrambled to set up safe spaces; emergency services were overworked.
Agriculture Hit: Greenhouses destroyed, crops damaged by both wind and water. Farmers saw infrastructure collapse, produce ruined.

Why Peipah’s Damage Is So Noteworthy

Tropical Storm Peipah was, by many metrics, a weak storm. It never reached typhoon strength; wind speeds in its core were modest compared to the monstrous storms that have hit Japan in past decades. But Peipah’s legacy will not be measured by its categorization.

This storm underlined several uncomfortable truths:

Even “weak” storms can generate severe, localized extremes: Outer bands, if aligned with specific atmospheric instabilities, can produce phenomena like tornadoes and microbursts. That happened here.
Topography matters: Japan’s steep terrain, narrow valleys, hillsides, and winding coastlines amplify rainfall, drainage issues, and landslide risk.
Infrastructure vulnerability remains: Aging homes, vulnerable attachment points (roof tiles, greenhouses), fragile structures (utility poles, fences), and power grid exposed to wind are all weak links.
Preparedness is essential—but its limits are real: Warnings were issued, evacuations ordered, and yet damage and injuries still occurred. It shows both how far warning systems have come, and how unpredictable nature remains.
Climate context: Experts note that as sea surface temperatures rise, air holds more moisture, and storm systems—even non-typhoon ones—can carry far more water. Instability increases. The risk of severe rain, flash flooding, and unusual wind events is rising globally—and Japan is not spared.

Voices from the Ground

In Makinohara, people will not soon forget. Homeowners saw roof tiles flying, walls crumbling. Elderly residents recalled rumbling skies that sounded like jets overhead. In Yoshida, vehicles overturned, greenhouses shredded. People rescued from flooded homes. Families separated.

In one case, a farmer in Yaizu lost not just income but part of his home. Another, trapped in a vehicle when the tornado hit, lost his life. Entire communities were left shaken, inspecting shattered glass, twisted metal, and uprooted trees.

Yet, amid destruction, resolve showed. Neighbors helped clean debris; community centers opened; municipal teams worked through the night to restore power and shelter those displaced.

Lessons Carved in Wood and Steel

What should Japan—and any region in storm’s path—take away from Peipah?

Building with the future in mind: Roof design, cladding, construction materials—all need to anticipate more severe wind gusts. Greenhouses in particular may need to be redesigned or reinforced.
Drainage and early warning systems: More sensors for rainfall, slope stability. Predictive modeling for when soil saturation crosses thresholds. Emergency messaging must reach remote and hilly areas quickly.
Power grid resilience: Underground lines where possible; stronger poles; protect critical infrastructure so that outages don’t cascade.
Community drills and education: Many injuries came from people caught off-guard—vehicles on exposed roads, homes near waterways. Knowing where to shelter, what to do when strong wind is forecast, can save lives.
Planning for compound disasters: Rain, wind, and tornado together create complex risks. Evacuations for one hazard must consider others (e.g., landslides, floodwaters), and transport closures or delays can complicate escape routes.

The Big Picture

Peipah won’t be remembered as one of the strongest storms in meteorological books—because it didn’t need to be. It stands out instead for the unexpected: a tornado of JEF3 level, records broken, power blackouts, structural devastation—yet also stories of resilience, of people stepping up.

Climate change is not science fiction; it’s manifesting in how storms behave. More moisture in the air means heavier rain. Warmer seas feed storms with energy. Conditions conducive to tornadic activity are more often met, especially in regions where a storm’s outer bands—usually considered secondary—interact with topography and atmospheric instability.

For Japan, a country long accustomed to typhoons, Peipah might be a warning sign. Preparedness and respect for warnings have saved lives. But it also spotlights vulnerabilities that should spur action. In construction codes, urban planning, energy infrastructure, evacuation plans, and public awareness.

Aftermath and Moving Forward

Even after Peipah became extratropical and skies cleared, the work is far from over:

Removing debris, repairing roads and infrastructure will take weeks, possibly months.
Restoring power to all affected homes, especially in more remote or mountainous zones, remains a priority.
Rebuilding homes, especially greenhouses, will weigh heavily on many livelihoods.
Insurance claims, government aid, local budgets will be stretched.
Mental and emotional recovery—trauma from loss, damage, and, in some cases, death—will linger.

Meanwhile, scientists and meteorologists will examine Peipah in detail: what forecasts did well, what missed, how to improve detection of tornadic potential—even from storms not classified as “severe.” How storm structure, storm speed, alignment with atmospheric fronts influenced the outcomes.

A Storm That Changes the Story

Tropical Storm Peipah will be taught in weather science courses, remembered in Shizuoka households, and possibly serve as a turning point in how Japan—and similar nations—prepare for storms. Not only the typhoons, but also the unexpected: tornadoes, flash flooding, wind damage beyond what standard storm classifications imply.

Because storms do not respect labels. And Peipah is proof that sometimes, “weak” in name can be anything but in nature.