(You have a glossary at the end of the chapter to use in case you don’t remember a word.)
1
Houkago Gakari
Those words caught the eyes of Nimori Kei when he looked up in the classroom.
Seeing this, Kei couldn’t believe his eyes and, several seconds later, he couldn’t help but let out a sound.
“…Huh?”
Kamina Elementary School. In the sixth-grade second classroom.
It was Friday, after school. When Kei, who was seated on the left side of the front row, raised his head after briefly preparing to go home, he noticed, on the chalkboard right in front of him, his name, which hadn’t been there before, written on it.
Houkago Gakari Nimori Kei
Those words.
Centered, in large letters, written in white chalk.
And, at the beginning of the string of characters, there was a single, rough circle.
He had seen things written in similar ways many times throughout his elementary school life. It was the kind of writing that could be seen during the so-called “role assignments,” when it was decided who would be in charge of what. However, there were no “role assignments” happening right now, and there was no such role as “after-school duties” in this class.
TL: Houkago gakari = after-school duties/after-school caretaker (e.g. cleaning).
More importantly, this writing had appeared during the few dozen seconds Kei was looking down while preparing to leave.
Until then, there was no such writing.
The situation was so incomprehensible that Kei’s thoughts stopped for several seconds.
“……Huh?”
Voicing his confusion once more, Kei inadvertently looked around at his surroundings.
He was the shortest in the class. His hair, despite being held down by the reversed cap on his head, had a stubborn tendency to stick out. And although the color wasn’t unusual, the style of his jacket, which he had gotten at a thrift store, gave off a slight sense of delinquency. They swayed as he scanned his surroundings.
However, there was no one in front of the blackboard.
In front of the blackboard which, like the school building, looked neither old nor new, there was no one. In fact, even in the vicinity of the blackboard, there was no one who could have written those words.
Neither the person who had scribbled those words nor anyone who was capable of doing it could be found in the classroom. On the other hand, the other kids in the classroom either hadn’t noticed yet, or if they had, were staring at the characters on the blackboard with a puzzled expression.
There was almost no possibility that it had been there from the beginning.
The homeroom teacher of this class, nicknamed Sticky Tarou due to his frequent, persistent nagging, was an unpopular teacher who, at end of every lesson, erased the blackboard without regard for anyone taking notes down, so it was highly unlikely that any writing would be left by the time he returned home.
TL: Nechi = sticky, nechinechi = persistent
Today too, Kei distinctly remembered seeing him meticulously, painstakingly erasing the blackboard.
Therefore, the possibility of the message being written before Kei had placed his black backpack on the desk to start preparing to leave was undoubtedly “nonexistent.”
“…What is this?”
So, Kei could only furrow his eyebrows.
Behind the bangs protruding from his cap, his face, which seemed oddly well-mannered in comparison to his outfit and the somewhat sulky atmosphere around him, showed confusion.
It was the end of April. Kei and his classmates had just become sixth graders.
It hadn’t been that long since he had joined the class, so he couldn’t think of any reason why he would be bullied. At the illogical, inexplicable phenomenon, his mind, which had stopped thinking, somehow came up with such an idea.
Kei could feel a stir from the classroom, and gazes clearly directed towards him.
More and more people were noticing the blackboard. In any case, feeling uncomfortable with the current situation, Kei stepped in front of the blackboard and rubbed out his name along with the words “Houkago Gakari” with the eraser.
“Hey hey, Nimori-kun, what’s that?”
“Dunno. I’m clueless too.”
While answering the classmate who had come running to ask, a boy who regularly displayed a slight lack of social awareness, Kei discretely observed the expressions of everyone in the classroom. Despite his somewhat delinquent appearance and slightly standoffish attitude, Kei was actually very quiet and reserved in his actions. Due to some family issues, he was internally guarded.
“Then, who wrote it?”
“I don’t know. I don’t like pranks, though.”
While responding, Kei thought.
I really hope it’s not bullying.
He was worried. But not because he was afraid. Kei wasn’t particularly scared of being isolated or having no friends. Despite his appearance, Kei’s hobby was painting, and apart from that, he had no other interests, so being ignored and left alone by others was fine by him. He wasn’t the type of person who would be troubled by such things.
But he preferred not to be bothered.
And furthermore, Kei hated this type of unreasonable behavior—subjecting others to pranks or tests—the most.
He didn’t express obvious anger like shouting or get violent, but he hated it and wouldn’t tolerate it. He’d realized it when, as a five-year-old, his father had taken him out for a night drive to the top of a mountain and laughed while leaving him alone in the pitch-black parking lot. It was one of the few clear dislikes that Kei, who was indifferent to others and had a composed personality, had engraved onto his heart.
However—in the classroom that Kei was observing, there were no suspicious individuals.
There were quite a few kids directing their gazes at him, but not a single one of them seemed suspicious enough for Kei to notice.
Probably? Really?
Distrust and a bit of relief. However, at that moment, as Kei was scanning about, his eyes unexpectedly met with something else.
“……Ah.”
While passing through the corridor beyond the open classroom door, his line of sight collided with the gaze of someone else.
It was someone he knew well. A fellow sixth-grader of the same age.
Tall and smart, wearing glasses, a boy with an intellectual and well-groomed appearance.
He was clearly a special child. His hair was subtly styled, not standing out too much in his surroundings, and the clothes he wore were casually branded. Moreover, he stood a head above his peers in his behavior and composure. While he excelled in both academics and sports, he was also known for his cheerful personality and good manners.
Due to his leadership skills, he was popular and well-liked, not only among the girls, but also among the boys and even the teachers. Kei knew that his family was very wealthy. Additionally, his glasses weren’t for nearsightedness, but were slightly tinted polarized glasses to alleviate his innate visual sensitivity.
Sei Ogata.
He was Kei’s best friend.
The two locked eyes through the entrance. However, even though their eyes had undoubtedly met, Sei continued moving his gaze like nothing had happened, ignoring Kei’s presence like air, and resumed walking down the corridor.
“……The hell.”
Kei muttered.
The two were best friends. It’s the past tense of “are.”
Kei and Sei met when they were in second grade. At first, they didn’t particularly get along, but one day, when Kei had received a major award for his art, Sei took an odd liking to him.
“You’re amazing. Do you have any favorite painters?”
He remembered the first words Sei had spoken to him.
After that, Sei began to initiate various interactions, and over time, their slightly eccentric traits meshed together through several events, ultimately establishing a relationship that could be called best friends.
This relationship had continued for about three years, but as soon as they entered fifth grade, Sei suddenly started distancing himself without any warning. Kei didn’t know why. Sei had ended their relationship without any explanation, which understandably shocked Kei, but there was nothing he could do, so he had to continue seeing Sei at school, feeling uneasy every time.
Kei knew.
Kei and Sei were each other’s only close friend.
That’s why Kei knew.
The well-mannered boy that Sei showed to others was just one side of him, and he was more than just that.
“Tch…”
Feeling a heavy sense of unease in his chest again, Kei slightly lowered his gaze and shook it off.
Then, with a small sigh, he put down the blackboard eraser he was still holding, returned to his seat, and put on his heavy backpack to go home.
The words on the blackboard that he had just erased—Kei forgot about them.
He had plenty of other things to worry about. For example, the uneasiness in his heart that he had just felt.
“…”
Kei left school.
And then, he returned home.
Afterwards, Kei,
He remembered those words.
He remembered those words.
Houkago Gakari.
It wasn’t in the distant future, but that very night—after Kei had fallen asleep—that he would come to know the meaning of those words.
2
Kei’s house was located in an old public housing complex that had been built many years ago.
He lived with his mother. They used to live in a large three-story house, but his parents divorced when he was in first grade, and they were kicked out of that house. Since then, they had been living here.
Their current house was much smaller compared to their previous one, with a kitchen right after entering the front door, followed by a four-and-a-half tatami mat room, then a six tatami mat room in a straight, narrow line.
TL: Japanese room sizes are measured by the number of tatami mats that fit inside the room. 4.5 mats ≈ 7.29 m^2, 6 mats ≈ 9.72 m^2.
The walls were also thin. Kei had been given the larger room at the back. His mother, who came back from work late at night and just went to bed, slept in the four-and-a-half tatami mat room, which doubled as a living room, after spreading out a futon on the floor.
Kei’s room was a mess.
A tatami room with carpet laid in one area. There was a study desk with sticker marks all over, with some books borrowed from the library on top of it. It was one of the few pieces of furniture they had brought over from their previous house.
And—what made the room even more cluttered were the many professional art supplies piled up in one corner and the half-finished paintings. Oil paintings. Watercolor paintings. Pastels. And easels. In addition, there were many certificates and trophies displayed on the study desk, shelves, and walls, indicating his achievements in various painting contests.
It was late at night. Darkness had fallen in that room.
In the futon spread out on the floor, there was a lump in the shape of a child.
Sleeping breath. And body heat.
Silence. The green light of a digital clock.
Then—
Ka——n,
Ko————n!
Suddenly.
The sound of the school bell reverberated throughout the room, causing Kei to jump out of the futon, after which he was immediately assaulted by an intense dizziness and fell head-first onto the tatami mat.
“………!?”
It was like he had been struck by the sound. The extremely loud chime had abruptly exploded, echoing around the room, and the violent, scratchy, crackling noise jolted Kei to his feet from where he was sleeping in his futon.
His ears were completely filled with the thundering sound.
A shock ran through his brain.
The insides of his ears and brain throbbed. The mass of sound pierced deep into his eardrums, and, along with the pain that stabbed straight into his core, his sense of balance was so distorted that he couldn’t stand up.
“Ugh…!”
With tears in his eyes, Kei barely managed to look up, and through his blurred vision, he saw the digital display of his alarm clock.
12:12:12
It was midnight. In his room. The bell that had suddenly rang was out of tune, but it was undoubtedly the bell of his own school.
The abnormal chime that should not have been ringing in this place played the Westminster Chimes until the end, deforming the air in the room and leaving behind distorted echoes. Then, when the chime ended and the long, lingering echo faded away—the calm air was interrupted by a buzzing, then a fierce scratching noise, violently disturbing the room.
TL: The Westminster Quarters/Chimes is a melody (example) often used as the school bell in Japanese schools.
And then.
The school announcement began.
“—Zaa—Gaa… Garii……
…Kakari, please, contact.”
Huh?
Kei couldn’t believe his ears. In the same way as the chime earlier, he was hearing the crackling, gravelly noise of a loudspeaker announcement.
It was hard to tell whether it was a boy or a girl, but the voice coming from the severely degraded speaker could barely be recognized as a child’s voice. While Kei was dumbfounded in the face of such an incomprehensible phenomenon, the voice in the abnormal loudspeaker announcement delivered even more abnormal words.
“Houkago Gakari… kindly, gather, at sch… ool.”
Huh…? Eh!?
The announcement was the same as those incomprehensible words that he had almost forgotten.
Those words that had been written alongside his name in that inexplicable situation at school. The voice on the announcement was probably, no, definitely calling out to him.
It was a strange situation. What was even stranger was where the announcement was coming from.
The loudspeaker that was reverberating loudly in his room, like the chime that rang earlier, seemed to be located beyond the sliding door that led to the living room, where his mother was sleeping.
“………!?”
Kei lifted his head, still lying face-down, and opened his eyes, looking at the sliding door.
He was confused. If such a loud sound was really coming from the living room, there was no way his mother wouldn’t wake up.
What was the meaning of this?
What was happening?
He thought in his scattered state of confusion. What was this? What was going on? Or rather, what was this Houkago Gakari? And what on earth was going on with his mother, who was supposed to be sleeping in the room next door?
“Ugh…”
Kei held his throbbing head and sat up.
“M… Mom…?”
He called out, heading towards the sliding door.
“—Zaa, Garii…
…the announcement will repeat.”
The broadcast continued.
Anyway, he needed to check. While bathing in the inorganic quality of the mixed noise, Kei staggered to his feet, reaching out his hand towards the indentation on the handle of the sliding door to check on the condition of his mother, who should have been on the other side.
But at that moment, before his fingers could touch the handle, the door slid open on its own.
With a soft scraping sound.
His heart jumped, and he involuntarily stopped moving.
“!”
As soon as the sliding door opened, cold air rushed towards Kei’s face and all over his pajama-clad body. The cold air, which had a different scent that clearly didn’t belong to their house, entered in large quantities from the other side of the sliding door, completely engulfing Kei’s body and the air in the room in an instant.
And the voice of the broadcast pierced his ears more clearly than ever before.
“Houkago Gakari, please, gather, at school…”
The broadcast was flowing in from outside, clearly mixed with outdoor air.
And—
The school rooftop stretched out beyond the sliding door.
There was no living room. There, under the pitch-black sky, lay the rooftop of the school at night—seeing a scene that should not be on the other side of the sliding door of his own home, Kei stood, frozen in place.
What!?
What is this!?
Confused questions echoed in his mind.
While staring at that strange, dream-like scene with wide-open eyes, unable to understand anything, Kei instinctively tried to back away.
But at that moment, someone forcefully shoved him from behind.
Thud!
A strong impact on his back.
“Ah!”
He fell forward, unable to resist, and the pain of hitting the floor coursed through his palms, elbows, and knees.
And what his palms touched was not the tatami floor of his house, but the solid, rough feeling of cold concrete.
The sensation of a hard floor.
Pressing his hands against the realistic-feeling floor that didn’t seem like a dream, he hastily turned around.
Trying to see the person in his room who had pushed him.
But his breath caught in his throat. His room wasn’t there. The sliding door to the living room that he had just passed through was nowhere to be found. Instead, like he had occasionally seen after trial classes, the steel door on the rooftop, faintly illuminated by the dull fluorescent light above it, just stood there coldly.
The sliding door that he was supposed to have passed through had disappeared.
And so, thrown onto the rooftop of his school late at night, he found himself alone.
In a vast expanse of space, shrouded in complete darkness, with no moon or stars.
A cold breeze blew through the midst of the seemingly infinite space, and the rooftop, weakly lit by the fluorescent light at the entrance, resembled the deck of a ship, floating helplessly in the depths of a moonless, dark ocean.
“………Huh?”
There, Kei sat down in a daze.
Impossible. This must be a dream. It can’t be real. That’s all that he could think.
It was too sudden, too strange. But the sensations that his body felt were real—the feel of the concrete in his hands, the smell of the air filling his nostrils, the temperature of the air he felt through his pajamas—then, he suddenly noticed something. He wasn’t wearing pajamas. He was wearing a completely unfamiliar outfit, complete with a hat and shoes.
“What… is this…?”
Kei stood up in astonishment.
He looked at his own body. He, who was supposed to have been wearing pajamas at home, was now dressed in a retro-style uniform outfit, with a student cap on his head.
The uniform was like what an elementary school student from an older era would wear. At least, that’s how it looked. Taking the hat off his head, Kei examined its design and shape over and over again, but even then, he showed no signs of waking up, so, with the hat in his hand, he started walking towards the fence surrounding the rooftop with unsteady steps.
Not only for himself, but also to confirm the situation around him.
Then, as Kei stood near to the tall green fence that surrounded the rooftop, his field of vision widened beyond the fence, giving him a wide sweeping view of the area around the school.
“—Huh!?”
It was definitely the elementary school Kei attended. But it wasn’t the scene that Kei knew.
What was there was a “graveyard.” Illuminated by the scattered streetlights around the area, barely emerging from the darkness, the school grounds, which should have been flat, were dotted with countless mounds resembling smallpox scars, on top of which pierced countless wooden sticks and boards, creating the appearance of a run-down, shabby graveyard.
And that wasn’t all. “Ghosts” surrounded the school.
There were children with vague figures, holding hands with each other.
He didn’t know how many there were. But they were probably around the same age as Kei, with differing genders, appearances, and attires. The many, many children, lifeless and motionless, with only their bloodless, pale white skin faintly standing out against their half-sunken bodies in the shadows of the night, formed a chain of people, surrounding the perimeter of the school grounds in an ominous circle.
The school had turned into a graveyard surrounded by ghosts.
The town that should have extended endlessly beyond the school was, apart from the barely visible areas illuminated by the surrounding streetlights, eerily devoid of light, like its very existence had been lost, becoming completely dark.
The school was enveloped in a perfect pitch-black.
It was an unrealistic situation where there wasn’t a single light on in the town. However, the school that could be seen now seemed to be floating in the midst of a vast “nothingness,” just as Kei had first thought when he was thrown onto the rooftop, the school was like a single ship, floating alone in the boundless, inky sea.
“What is this…”
The words slipped out.
It was an extremely abnormal sight. While staring at such a sight, he couldn’t help but think over and over again, something like this can’t possibly be real.
But still, Kei’s consciousness and his five senses were way too clear.
Furthermore, without waking up or even knowing how to wake up, this scene and situation that seemed infinitely real was thrust upon him as proof against his will.
He felt the chilly wind from the rooftop.
Kei stood still, taking in the strangeness of the nighttime school and the endless darkness that spread outside, beyond the fence.
Not knowing what to do in this unusual situation, he just continued to stare at this scene. But then, mixed with the wind reaching his ears, he suddenly noticed a faint sound like the fluttering of paper, and something small and white moving at the edges of his field of vision.
“Hm?”
He turned his gaze. When he looked, there was a piece of paper stuck to the fence.
A white piece of paper on the green fence. Probably a torn page from a book.
It fluttered, blown by the wind on the rooftop.
Kei approached the piece of paper. He wanted any explanation or information in this situation.
He stood in front of the piece of paper, looking at it.
“It’s here.“
Just those two words, that’s what it said.
Clearly a child’s handwriting.
The moment he saw it, he froze. A cold shiver ran down his spine. The air clearly changed. Even though he didn’t fully understand what the written words meant, he instantly understood the ominousness of it.
It’s here?
What is?
Where?
These kinds of questions ran through his mind for an instant.
But no conclusion could be reached.
Because before reaching a conclusion,
Kashan.
There was a sound.
And, while looking at the paper stuck to the fence, at the edge of his vision, a child’s finger, stained red, stretched out from the midst of the darkness, clutching onto the fence.
From the other side.
“!!”
He stopped breathing.
He widened his eyes, turning his gaze there.
But there was nothing there, just the fence. He exhaled. An optical illusion. But the moment he thought that—out of the corner of his eye, something like a red figure dashed by on the other side of the fence, disappearing from view.
“!!”
He turned his gaze.
There was nothing.
He followed it with his eyes.
Still, there was nothing there.
It was dark beyond that point, further than what the fluorescent light by the entrance, the only source of illumination on the rooftop, could reach. He didn’t notice until now, but looking closely at the fence that extended on the other side of the darkness, Kei found a big tear—big enough that a single person could easily slip out—in the fence.
“Eh…?”
The iron fence was torn, opening to the void outside, its mouth gaping black.
Of course, there was no such tear on the rooftop of the real school.
“……”
Kei took a deep breath, and then.
After a brief hesitation—he started walking towards the tear.
To confirm it.
But at that moment, instead of trying to confirm anything, a strangely vivid image of himself leaning out into the void of the tear emerged in Kei’s mind.
“…”
He took a step.
Approaching.
“…”
Reaching out his hand.
Peering out.
“…”
He leaned forward.
And then.
“—Kei!! Stop!!”
Abruptly.
Stopped by the loud voice behind him, Kei, who had come back to his senses, realized, in that moment, that walking to the tear in the fence and peering out of it was not of his own will.
“………!”
Where on earth had it come from?
Kei just now realized that a thin film had been covering his own previously clear consciousness and senses and that, before he knew it, he was making his way to the tear like he was being pulled towards it.
It felt like a soap bubble had burst in his mind.
Goosebumps. With that sudden sense of clarity, Kei turned around in surprise, looking in the direction of the voice that had brought him back to his senses. There, a boy in the same uniform as Kei stood at the entrance to the rooftop, panting with heaving shoulders.
“!”
When he saw that face, Kei’s eyes widened.
And naturally, he spoke his name.
“Sei…”
“Kei.”
Ogata Sei, who was standing at the entrance to the rooftop, stared at Kei with a stern expression that Kei had never seen before they had drifted apart, and called out Kei’s name.
And then, pursing his lips like he couldn’t bear it anymore,
“You, you’re the only one…!!”
To the confused Kei, he cried.
“You’re the only one I didn’t want to come ‘here’…!!”
It was a voice he had never heard from Sei before, a suppressed scream, or perhaps like someone coughing up blood—a voice filled with pain.
3
It was definitely a familiar elementary school corridor.
But it wasn’t the familiar elementary school corridor in the slightest.
Sha…
A faint noise, mixing in the air, filled his ears.
The evenly spaced loudspeakers, embedded on the gray ceiling of the corridor for school announcements, emitted a constant stream of noise that spread through the air of the corridor.
It was terribly, dreadfully gloomy.
I’ve never been to the elementary school at night, but is the lighting really this dim?
Unconsciously, such a question came to mind. The ceiling lights, despite being lit, were so deteriorated that the weak, murky, cloudy light failed to illuminate what was directly below it, casting a rough shadow over the long corridor.
Ten,
Ten,
The fluorescent lights repeated, some flickering, some completely dark.
The feeble bulbs, connected one-by-one—one part cutting off—sometimes dark, or dimly bright, artificial, or natural—these various expressions mixed together as the corridor stretched far, far into the distance.
The glass windows, lined up on both sides of the corridor—each either leading to the outside or into classrooms—were as black as ink, making them impossible to see through. Like looking through the window of a train entering a tunnel, the glass surface, coated in black, reflected the corridor, himself, and one other person in a vague, blurry image.
The visible shadows felt heavy.
The air was hollow, and a little cold.
Kei was walking down such a corridor. Feeling the cold, hard sensation of the slightly rough, dusty floor underneath his shoes, he walked steadily, following behind the person in front of him.
The one leading the way was Sei Ogata.
Sei, wearing a retro uniform. It was the same uniform that Kei was wearing, but it was only when he saw someone else wearing it that Kei noticed the design of the uniform looked familiar.
The elementary school Kei attended had been established for about ten years, but it was a result of the merger with another elementary school. The original school, called Kamina Elementary, had apparently existed for about a hundred years before that, and Kei had seen an exhibition commemorating its history under a glass case in a corridor near the principal’s office.
Kei had an excellent foundation in painting.
He could remember details quite well.
That’s why he remembered. It was among the things on display.
A photograph. An old black and white photograph. The uniforms that the children were wearing in that group photo closely resembled the ones Sei was wearing now.
Kei and Sei walked, wearing their old-timey uniforms.
Kei was empty-handed. But Sei carried a shovel in his hands.
The sight of him carrying the somewhat smallish, sword-shaped, completely stainless-steel shovel around the school was a little unusual. Despite being well used, covered in scratches and dirt, the tip of the shovel was clearly sharp and polished, which was strangely impressive.
“Sei, what is this!? Do you know something!?”
“…I’ll explain. But first, I want you to come with me. It’s dangerous here.”
When they had met on the rooftop, Sei had awkwardly said that to Kei, who was instinctively approaching him, and then guided him into the school before anything else. Sei, who seemed to know everything about the school in its current state, walked ahead, leading Kei somewhere.
They descended the stairs to the first floor and continued down the corridor from there.
Kei looked around during the journey. On the way, the condition inside of the school was just as, no, more abnormal than the rooftop.
Even considering the fact that it was night, it was still dark, with deep shadows, and the air was permeated by an endless stream of sandy noise from the speakers. Along the way, he noticed a single classroom with its lights on, but there were desks and chairs stacked in a strange puzzle-like manner against the windows on the inside, preventing him from seeing what was happening inside.
And there was a sign at the entrance.
“It’s here.”
A child’s handwriting on a piece of paper. The sign was almost identical to the one he saw on the rooftop.
What did it mean? What was “here”? Of course, he was curious, but the heavy, tense silence between the two as they walked side by side prevented him from asking, and Sei hadn’t spoken to him since.
Apart from the noise in the silent corridor, there was only the sound of two pairs of footsteps.
In this ambiguous situation, breaths shallow with tension and unease, the both of them continued to walk silently.
Nervously losing body heat.
However, even in these circumstances, Kei felt something akin to a sense of relief at being able to have a proper conversation with Sei for the first time in a long while.
Kei hated unreasonable behavior.
The unreasonable behavior he had received from Sei for a year. If the answer was here, then it could be called salvation within the unreasonable abnormality in which they were currently placed.
“Kei.”
Eventually, Sei, who was walking in front, opened his mouth with a heavy tone, like he had suddenly made up his mind.
“I… I have to apologize to you.”
He didn’t look at Kei. However, upon hearing Sei’s unique, slightly formal manner of speaking, directed at him for the first time in almost a year, Kei answered briefly, feeling a sense of nostalgia.
“…I’m listening.”
“I suddenly pushed you away without any explanation. I realized that it was hurting you.”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t ask for your forgiveness. A year ago, I decided that I would never speak to you again, and I ignored you. I thought that being involved with me might drag you ‘here.’”
Sei spoke honestly. Kei didn’t say anything in response, but instead asked Sei a question.
“What is ‘here’?”
“Houkago.”
TL: Again, houkago means after-school.
Sei’s response.
He understood the meaning of those words. But that definitely wasn’t what it meant.
“…After school?”
“Yeah.”
He asked again. However, Sei stopped at the corner of the corridor without replying and turned his head, looking in Kei’s direction for the first time. The expression on his face was the same as it had always been before they had grown distant: calm, composed, determined, and strong, a truly Sei-like expression.
Then, he pointed to a corner that Kei couldn’t see, only darkness, and slowly opened his mouth.
“We’re here. This is it.”
Sei said.
“That’s all I have to say. From here on, I want you to hear the rest from the ‘advisor’ along with everyone else.”
“Advisor? Everyone else? What do you mean?”
There was no answer to that question.
Sei simply pointed to the furthest section of the school building.
Furthermore, it was the oldest section, a place with nobody around even during the day.
It was there—that the “Sealed Room” existed.
In the furthest corner of the oldest school building. The building at the very end of the elementary school. Although it was connected to the main school building by a continuous corridor, it hadn’t been demolished during the school mergers, but reused, housing special classrooms like the home economics and the arts and crafts rooms.
At the end of the first floor. After a turn at the corner, there was a dead-end corridor.
It was dark there even during the day, and there were no lights installed, just a storage room and a door with no signs facing each other.
The door with nothing written on it—was called the “Sealed Room.”
Neglected during expansion and renovation, even among the filthy buildings at the outskirts of the school, that door in the darkest place was particularly filthy, as if smeared in black dust, giving off an eerie appearance.
It had a small square glass window, but it seemed to be covered from the other side with cloth or paper, making it impossible to see inside. There were no windows on the outside. Even the teachers didn’t know what was going on inside, an unidentified room.
There was no key for it in the staff room. It couldn’t be opened.
And so this mysterious room, which even the teachers often talked about as a topic of conversation, calling the “Sealed Room,” became a source of fear, particularly for children in the lower grades.
Kei had even heard rumors that said you would be cursed if you touched the door, or that the corpse of a child who had been trapped and starved to death was left inside the room. The truth was unknown, and although he had never heard of a child actually being cursed, anyone found playing around in the dark, dead-end corridor would be scolded by the teachers, and there were hardly any children who dared to approach it.
Sei was pointing at that dead-end.
Then, he silently walked towards the corner, as if to guide the bewildered Kei.
“Ah…”
Kei hurriedly followed suit.
When he turned the corner, at the end of the dead-end corridor with a particularly dark shadow—a dazzlingly bright light shone from one of the two doors, entering his eyes.
“!”
It was open.
The door to the “Sealed Room” was open, casting light into the dark corridor.
Sei stood in front of the room. Kei hesitated for a moment, not really understanding the situation, but then, quickly making up his mind, he stepped into the light leaking into the dark, dead-end corridor.
“…”
He instinctively shielded his eyes from the glare of the brilliant light.
Despite mentally preparing for the worst, the “Sealed Room” was just an ordinary room.
It wasn’t as spacious as a classroom, more like the size of a storage room or a prep room. There were no ghosts, monsters, or eerie objects to be found, just a huge wooden bookshelf on one wall, and a blackboard on the other. It was, like his impression earlier, similar to a prep room.
And in that room, there were several children standing, seeming lost.
Four people.
He thought they were all girls at first, but one of them was a boy with girlish features.
Everyone was wearing the same uniform as Kei. Because of that, they looked like a strange, old-fashioned group. Most of the children didn’t have anything with them, but one of the girls had a bamboo broom, giving off a somewhat similar impression to Sei carrying a shovel.
A girl with a broom, a boy with a girlish appearance.
A girl with slightly tanned skin, and a strikingly tall girl with model-like, well-groomed features.
And there were Sei and Kei. All of them were around the same age. Or rather, they all had familiar faces somehow. They were probably Kei’s classmates at this elementary school, or if not, they were children in the upper grades.
“……”
Everyone turned their attention to Kei, who was standing at the entrance of the room.
But their expressions were filled with anxiety, tension, caution, or confirmation, and there wasn’t a single friendly or bright expression towards Kei.
And—beyond those boys and girls. There was another person at the back of the room.
Sitting, facing the desk placed against the back wall, with their back turned, was a striking figure, seeming like the master of the room.
That person had pure white hair.
Striking white hair that reached beyond their shoulders. They were petite, and wore an old-fashioned hanten.
TL: A short, padded kimono jacket, often worn as a casual winter coat.
Kei didn’t recognize them. At first glance, they appeared to be old. But right after Kei thought that, the voice that came from that person, regardless of its tone and content, was unmistakably that of a young boy.
“…Haa. Well well, is everyone here now?”
Without standing up or moving the chair, the boy simply turned his upper body and glanced sideways at Kei and the others.
The side profile of his face, peeking out from behind his long white bangs, was that of a boy around the same age as Kei.
He looked around at everyone just once, like he found it bothersome, and turned back to his desk.
Then, without looking at Kei and the others,
“Alright, well, nice to meet you all, I suppose. Everyone in this year’s Houkago Gakari.”
Just those words.
He threw that sloppy greeting at Kei and the others.
4
While Kei and the others were left speechless, Sei, who was at the entrance, entered the room with a troubled expression.
“Teacher… Didn’t I ask you to be friendly?”
“You know, it doesn’t do me much good even if I get along with you guys.”
The boy sighed, scratching his head of white hair. When Sei prompted, “Please properly introduce yourself and explain,” the one he referred to as “teacher” did so reluctantly, introducing himself with his back stubbornly turned.
“Ha… Um, I’m supposed to be the ‘advisor’ here.”
He added the title that Sei had mentioned just a while ago.
“The name’s ‘Tarou-san.’ That’s what I’m called. Unfortunately, this isn’t a toilet, so I can’t go by ‘Tarou-san of the toilet,’ and ‘Hanako-san,’ who seems to be my partner, isn’t in this school at the moment.”
TL: Hanako-san of the toilet is a Japanese urban legend about the spirit of a young girl who haunts school toilets. The manga series Toilet-bound Hanako-kun is based on it.
The boy spoke while gesturing in circular motions in the air to indicate “this school.” It was probably meant as a joke, but his clear lack of amusement just made the line difficult to react to.
“Ogata-kun over there calls me ‘teacher,’ right?”
“Yeah, that’s what I call you.”
“That’s not right, though. I’m a student like you guys. No, I’m not quite sure I can say that we’re the same. Well, you can call me whatever you like.”
It was an introduction that could hardly be called an introduction. That listless, twisted way of speaking resembled a worn out, elderly school teacher who despised children more than someone of Kei’s generation.
Even the hanten he was wearing was un-childlike.
This had clearly influenced Kei’s initial impression of him being an old person.
However, what he wore underneath was the same school uniform as Kei and the others. Still, the uniform, which had an underlying retro feel, gave the white-haired boy an all in all oddly antiquated aura.
“So, uh. One of my jobs is to give you an ‘explanation,’”
Is what he said.
Then,
“As for the explanation—
Firstly, do you guys know about the Seven Mysteries of the School?”
“………”
A sudden question. Nobody answered it.
If it were an ordinary question, asked at a casual time, the silence that fell would have been a blank, vacant silence. However, the silence that fell here was different. It was heavier, like the air was freezing, a dead silence.
And, in response to that reaction, the boy spoke.
“…Well, even if you don’t know, everyone has seen it already, right?”
“………”
Kei couldn’t help but look around. As did the others. There was a silent answer.
Almost everyone had stiff faces, filled with fear and tension. So in other words, it was that thing. On the rooftop, Kei had seen an unusual, red “something,” then witnessed ghosts surrounding the school, and further traversed the abnormal state inside the school to arrive here. In such a place, given that they were now being presented with “ghost stories,” it naturally followed that these events were connected—and that everyone was the same. Each of them had seen “something” along the way, that was what being here meant.
“…Hey.”
Among Kei and the others, a strikingly tall girl with strikingly good features spoke, glaring with a hard expression that betrayed her tension and vigilance.
“What the hell was that?”
“…”
Still with his back turned, the boy didn’t answer. As if it had become apparent long ago.
After a brief silence, he opened his mouth again.
However, it wasn’t to answer the question she had asked, but a continuation of his original explanation.
“…Inside the school, there are the Seven Mysteries.”
He said.
“I don’t know what you all saw, but those ‘things’ are precisely that. What the hell they are, I really don’t know. In reality, it’s not exactly seven; there are many more—every year, seven of them awaken, and seven Kakari are chosen from the fifth and sixth graders to take care of them.”
When the boy had explained up to that point, Sei, who had been standing in the background, stepped forward, picked up the chalk, and wrote on the blackboard.
Houkago Gakari
The sight triggered a sense of déjà vu in Kei.
Then, he felt a gasp from his surroundings. It seemed like he wasn’t the only one who recognized the name of this mysterious duty. Everyone was staring at the words on the blackboard. The explanation that followed was something that Kei, and most likely the other kids, were clearly familiar with.
“The children chosen as Kakari are, every Friday, automatically summoned to this Houkago at 12:12:12 at night.”
He said.
“After arriving at this place, you all initially saw ‘something.’ That thing is what each of you have to take care of from now on.”
“………!?”
A clear sense of unease spread through the atmosphere among everyone.
“These ‘somethings,’ I don’t know who named them, but this is what they’re called: a play on the Seven Mysteries of the School, written as the unnamed Nameless Wonders, the Nanafushigi.”
TL: The name of the anomalies is a pun on 七不思議 (nanafushigi, seven wonders). It’s written as 無名不思議 (mumei fushigi, nameless wonders), but pronounced ナナフシギ (nanafushigi) because the kun’yomi readings of 無 and 名 are both ナ (na). TL;DR, the “things” are called Nanafushigi.
And then, Sei wrote it on the blackboard.
Nanafushigi
Everyone stared at it.
The white-haired boy added,
“I didn’t come up with it, so I won’t hear any complaints about the naming sense.”
Then, after that declaration, as if starting anew, katsun, he tapped the desk with the pen he was holding and, again, summarized his explanation.
“…So, as I was saying, all of you have been summoned to this other-dimensional school called the Houkago, and have become responsible for managing and recording the Nanafushigi—in other words, a Houkago Gakari.”
It was a complete explanation that described the abnormal situation Kei found himself in.
However, whether it was correct or acceptable for each individual was a different story. With Kei’s inner wariness, he was, of course, unconvinced. Even so, if asked to provide a more reasonable explanation for this abnormal situation, he would be completely unable to do so.
“It doesn’t make sense, right?”
As if reading Kei’s inner thoughts, the boy spoke.
“You can’t accept it either, can you? Hmm?”
“…”
He said provocatively. When he heard that, Kei, the only one, broke out from among everyone else, stepping forward silently.
“!”
The children around Kei looked at him, startled.
With their expressions of surprise and disbelief, and while receiving gazes with a bit of anticipation, Kei approached the boy in silence.
Of course he couldn’t accept it. There was still a small part of him that thought this was a dream.
But above all, what was most unacceptable was that the boy didn’t even look in his direction while speaking. He’d subjected Kei to this completely unreasonable situation, then laughed at him afterwards. However, because he knew that it was generally bad to do such things, he avoided eye contact with Kei… it reminded him of the figure of his own father, laughing at him—Kei wanted to at least confirm what sort of expression the boy had on his face when he said such words.
“……”
So, he stood right in front of the boy who was sitting down.
And looked down at him.
He looked up at Kei.
Kei saw it. He saw the boy’s face from the front for the first time. And the desk he was sitting at. There were countless books and notes piled up. And then, under the desk, the boy’s legs that were placed in the darkness—
Gripping his ankle, a white hand that belonged to no one, stretching out from the darkness.
He saw it.
Kei’s eyes widened.
“!?”
“I was the same.“
He looked Kei in the eyes and said.
“I didn’t accept it either. Because I was ‘summoned’ as well.”
The expression on the white haired boy’s face, in those eyes, were different from what Kei had imagined. Looking up at Kei, the eyes of the boy, who had up until now been full of lame jokes and mocking insults, were terribly grave, sincere, calm, and terribly… tired.
“……”
Kei didn’t say anything.
With his eyes wide open, remaining silent for a few seconds, he stared intently at the boy’s eyes and the hand of the “something” grabbing onto his ankle.
Then, he gently swallowed the breath that had stopped.
And took a few steps away from the boy. As if to direct the attention of everyone in the surroundings away from him.
So that nobody would notice it. Because if they became aware of the “hand” that Kei had seen here, it would only lead to uncontrollable chaos, like his inner thoughts were at the moment.
And at the same time, he understood.
Ever since arriving at this place, he hadn’t been able to understand why Sei, with his just and upright character, had been so cooperative with this boy.
“…”
After Kei moved away without doing anything, the boy let out a sigh and lowered his gaze once more. Then, turning away from everyone’s line of sight again, he faced the wall, hunching his back and, resting his chin in his hands on the desk, resumed his explanation where he had stopped.
“…My condolences. Both you and I were ‘summoned’ here against our wishes.”
Once again, the boy said sarcastically.
“But it’s not just you, or just me, who have been summoned. Every year, seven people are summoned here as Houkago Gakari.”
“……!”
At those words, everyone stirred with a palpable sense of anxiousness.
“It’s probably been this way ever since the beginning of the elementary school. The records of past Houkago Gakari remain here. That’s what everything is on the shelf.”
He said, pointing to the massive, old-looking, wooden bookshelf that stood at one side of the room. When Kei looked at it again, he found its shelves packed with books and bound bundles of paper, some relatively new and some discolored, some neat and some messy, all crammed together in large quantities.
They were all records.
Spanning a period of time that felt almost incomprehensible to an elementary student like Kei, and certainly everyone else as well. A vast number of records.
“I’ve been reading those records over there for a long time.”
The boy said.
“This Houkago Gakari has been going on for a long time. It’s continued for decades, but it’s never once been solved.”
“……”
“Right now, I think you guys are all confused. Some of you might even still be thinking that this is a dream. You can believe what I say, or not. You can follow accordingly or oppose it. But, before anything, it would be better to at least listen to my and Ogata-kun’s explanations and advice. And then you can make your own judgments about everything from there.”
Without exception, everyone looked at Sei. Sei, who was standing by the blackboard, nodded with a solemn expression.
“That’s right. First of all, nice to meet you.”
“Ogata-kun has been working as a Kakari since last year.”
The boy added.
“And Doujima-san over there as well. It’s rare to have two people with experience this year. Thanks to that, I think it’ll be a little easier.”
“…!”
With her name suddenly called, the girl with the broom, receiving stares from everyone, bowed timidly in a fluster.
“That’s right, then, let’s start.”
With that, the boy changed his sitting position and folded his arms.
After which, Sei took over.
“Well then—for now, let’s introduce ourselves to each other.”
He declared.
Next to the words “Houkago Gakari,” which were written horizontally on the blackboard, he filled in his name, “Ogata Sei,” in skillful, book-like lettering.
5
Ogata Sei
Doujima Kiku
Nimori Kei
Kenjou Maaya
Seto Iruma
Kojima Ruki
Advisor—Tarou-san
†
Seven names were written on the blackboard.
Sei, Kiku, Kei, and Maaya were in sixth grade. Iruma and Ruki were in fifth grade.
“Kenjou Maaya.”
In the briefest of introductions, although she spoke the least, only mentioning her name, she left the strongest impression. Standing out with her well-maintained appearance, long and beautiful hair, tall stature, and her experienced, dignified attitude in front of others, even Kei, who didn’t remember much about other people, clearly recognized her prominent presence.
And,
“I’m Kojima Ruki. I’m in fifth grade, class two. Please take care of me…”
The next memorable person was Ruki.
With a slender figure, long eyelashes, and slightly longer hair, if not for the pants being part of the uniform, the cute boy could have been mistaken for a girl.
Which is why, at first, Kei thought he was a girl. His name was also girly. But his limbs and bone structure revealed, to people like Kei, who frequently watched people out of habit and had high powers of observation, that he was a boy. His voice during his introduction was also that of a proper boy.
“I’m… Seto Iruma. I’m in fifth grade, class one.”
Next was Iruma. She was a girl who referred to herself as “boku.”
TL: Boku is a pronoun, meaning I or me, with an assertive tone (and therefore implied masculinity). It is usually used by boys.
Kei somehow felt like he had seen her at school. Her name, “Iruma,” and her skin, which was slightly darker than the other children, suggested that at least one of her parents was a foreigner from the south.
And then—
“Ah, um, um… I’m Doujima, Kiku… I’m in sixth grade, class two…”
She was the one who left the weakest physical impression.
It turned out that she was in the same class as Kei. Now that he thought about it, he definitely felt like she was there. But Kei’s impression of her was nearly nonexistent. She didn’t have long hair, but fairly long bangs, which partially concealed her face. A small voice, timid demeanor, simple looks, and unremarkable features. However, that didn’t mean that she stood out as a loner.
Kei barely remembered the bandages, adorned with various patterns, stuck on on her fingers peeking out from the sleeves of her hoodie, and on her legs sticking out of her shorts. Now, she was holding an out-of-place bamboo broom, which had initially caught his attention.
Those couldn’t really be considered her defining characteristics. But, when compared to the other children, she was the only one with ordinary physical features, which placed her in the same category as Kei.
“…Well then.”
With that, Sei, Kei, and Tarou-san joined the group.
After taking turns introducing themselves, the seven people, with an adaptability typical of elementary school students, inadvertently found themselves in an activity befitting a “Houkago Gakari,” led by Sei.
“First, I’ll need to explain the contents of the Kakari’s Job in detail.”
Sei said.
“In any case, since we’ll be summoned to this Houkago on Fridays, I think it’s better if you know what kind of place this is.”
Then, when he called out to the “sensei” at the back of the room, Tarou-san reluctantly sat deeper into the back of his chair, like he had no choice, and began speaking without turning around.
“…Ah… First of all, like I said earlier, you guys will be responsible for taking care of the Nanafushigi in this Houkago.”
Like the nickname Sei called him by, he spoke in an authentic, teacher-like tone.
“The Kakari happens every Friday, from 12:12:12 at night. When the chime rings, you’ll be summoned to this Houkago, and it ends at 4:44:44.”
At the side, Sei wrote on the blackboard,
12:12:12～4:44:44
“Nowadays, you guys have Saturdays off, so that’s good. In the past, Saturdays were half-days, and we had normal classes in the morning. At that time, the Kakari had to go school on Saturdays, mentally and physically exhausted.”
Tarou-san spoke like it was from personal experience. Although it sounded sarcastic, if that was the case, how old would he be now? Everyone in the room wore questioning expressions, but they weren’t in a position where they could casually ask questions, and none of the children were the type to go out of their way to ask.
But Iruma timidly raised her hand.
Sei responded to her.
“Do you have a question? Go ahead, Seto-san.”
“Um, can we… go back home?”
“You can. Don’t worry. When the chime rings at 4:44:44, we’ll wake up in our rooms where we were lying before.”
Hearing Sei’s reply, Iruma looked visibly relieved. The same went for everyone else, and a clear sense of relief filled the air. After taking a look at everyone’s expressions, Sei continued the meeting again.
“Anything else? …Then, sensei, please continue.”
“Ah… Then, let’s continue. You guys here will be responsible for doing the Kakari’s Job.”
Tarou-san continued.
“You’ll be taking care of the Nanafushigi. Well, it’s not like there’s a specific way to do it, and you don’t need anything special. You can interact with it or ignore it. Just observe those ‘things’ and write it in the journal.”
Saying that, Tarou-san picked up, among the pile of books on the desk, a binder that looked like what a student in charge of daily duty would use, and showed it to everyone.
“You’ll be making records. The most important thing is ‘record-keeping.’ From my experience so far, and from what I’ve learned from the records of past Kakari, those ‘things’ and the Nanafushigi are like the ‘fledgelings’ of School Ghost Stories.
TL: 学校の怪談 (gakkou no kaidan) = school ghost stories. Specifically, 怪談 (kaidan) is a general term for stories that invoke a sense of fear or mystery.
“If we don’t manage and record them properly, the Nanafushigi will gradually grow and eventually escape from this Houkago, becoming real School Ghost Stories. Then, these ‘things’ will appear at the school during ‘daytime’ and begin attacking unsuspecting students.
“But, on the contrary, as long as these ‘things’ are recorded, their growth stops. If a perfect ‘record’ is completed, the Nanafushigi will completely stop growing, and it will no longer be able to escape the Houkago. That’s the purpose of your work as the Houkago Gakari. And, if you create a perfect ‘record’ and neutralize the Nanafushigi—well, in reality, the term of a Houkago Gakari is until graduation, but—you’ll be released as a Kakari before that, or so the rumor goes.”
“!”
At this important statement, everyone looked around at each other.
“So, with that being said—all of you.”
Before the ripples of that statement settled, Tarou-san.
“I know you were called ‘here’ today for the first time, but can you tell me where were you when you arrived? And what did you see?“
He asked the question. And, with a strange twist of his body, he looked at Kei and the others.
He was holding a fountain pen in one hand. Seeing the situation, Kei deduced that the question was important enough to warrant recording down and, at the same time, he couldn’t help but have the impression that Tarou-san’s belongings were like an old person’s.
And then—
Nimori Kei “Crimson-san”
Kenjou Maaya “The Red Cloak”
Seto Iruma “The Purple Mirror”
Kojima Ruki “The Tickling Ghost”
As each of them finished answering the question, Sei added new entries to the blackboard. The names of each person, and the names of the Nanafushigi they were assigned to. After hearing the answers from Kei and the others, Tarou-san extracted what could be called characteristics from their explanations of the “things” and gave them names.
“…”
“These are temporary names. It would be troublesome if they didn’t have names.”
Because it was a red figure, it was “Crimson-san.” When Kei made a complex expression at the simplicity of the given name, Tarou-san replied with a serious face.
“Besides, these are actually the names of famous ghost stories. I can’t be blamed for that naming sense. Go complain to whoever gave them these names.”
While saying that, Tarou-san picked up a thick book titled “Ghost Stories—Urban Legends” from the desk and opened it, tapping on a page. Indeed, there was an entry for “Crimson-san” there, and an eerie illustration of a child with an umbrella and a raincoat. The illustration was in black and white, but even if it was all in red, Kei couldn’t see it as the same thing he saw.
“You seem dissatisfied, but this Houkago, the Nanafushigi, and the School Ghost Stories are definitely related.”
Seeing Kei’s reaction, Tarou-san sighed and said.
“The School Ghost Stories include aberrations like the ‘Yojibaba,’ sometimes called the ‘Four-Dimensional Hag,’ who appears, either at exactly 4 o’clock, or at 4:44:44, and drags humans into another dimension. There are also those who appear at exactly twelve o’clock. This Houkago is probably something like that. This place isn’t just a late-night school, but is, like the School Ghost Stories, in a different dimension that exists in parallel with the ‘daytime’ school, like two mirrors reflecting each other.
TL: The ヨジババ (yojibaba) is a ghost story and an urban legend. Tarou-san does a good job explaining it, but here’s a link if you’re interested.
“This place is something like the world of the School Ghost Stories. In actuality, it is a step before becoming that. Based on the records and my experiences, those things certainly resemble existing School Ghost Stories. That’s why it would be easier to manage by giving them names from the School Ghost Stories.”
Hearing this, Kei recalled the appearance of the school he had been in until now. A school isolated in darkness, its grounds turned into a graveyard, ghost children surrounding the premises, the nonexistent hole in the fence on the rooftop, that irritating broadcast noise.
Even when he recalled it, he didn’t have the impression that there was anything resembling the famous ghost stories.
However, Kei noticed something else. The noise, which had been constantly audible while he was walking around the school, wasn’t in this room.
Looking around, there were no speakers in the room.
He remembered that this room was originally the Sealed Room. Certainly, it might be acceptable to acknowledge that this school in the Houkago was in another dimension. Then, this room was probably relatively safe within the school of the Houkago.
“…”
Just like that, Kei came to a conclusion in his mind.
However, Tarou-san frowned in dissatisfaction at the apparent lack of reaction.
At the mention of their current location being in a “different dimension,” the others looked around with a growing sense of unease. As if sensing that, Sei changed the topic, raising his voice and holding up a square, thin box that he had taken out before the others had noticed.
“…Okay, everyone, I don’t think we’re in the mood to do the Kakari’s Job right now.”
He held a plastic bottle of tea In his other hand.
“So, let’s take a short break. I brought tea and cookies.”
And so, a modest tea party began. A tea party in a small room, with no chairs or tables, sitting on the cold floor with their paper cups in front of them, with barely any conversation. Well, at least the cookies that were distributed were from a high-end store.
Still, somehow, everyone’s state of mind calmed down a little because of that.
Sei started speaking.
“…Um, everyone, listen up. We’ll be summoned to this Houkago school again next Friday. So I’ll explain what you’ll need to prepare for.”
Sei stood up and faced the blackboard, and while everyone was watching, he listed the necessary items on the blackboard.
“The first thing I want you to remember is that you can bring most of the things on your body when you come to the Houkago, so it’s good to put your bag next to your pillow, or, if you’re worried, you can even sleep with it on. You can bring whatever you need, but occasionally things disappear for some reason, so remember that.
“Next, please bring writing utensils for recording. We have some spares here, but it’d be troublesome if we ran out. And, if possible, it would be good to have a metal blade, or anything that could be used as a weapon. In the Houkago, there are sometimes strange things in addition to the Nanafushigi you’ll be taking care of. But most of them are weak and dislike metal objects, so just having one on you can be a protective charm.
“Ordinary charms or prayer beads can be effective for some and not for others, so I don’t really recommend them since they aren’t reliable. Also, if you have snacks, or anything else that might help calm your mind, I think it might be a good idea to bring that.”
While saying that, Sei ran the chalk crisply along the board.
Bags, writing utensils, and various other items.
If not for the item with the name “Weapon (something made of metal),” it would’ve seemed like a field trip guide.
Then, after saying, “If you can’t remember everything, look at this,” Sei distributed “Kakari Guidebooks” that were folded from photocopy paper, and everyone’s confusion reached its peak. It wasn’t a relaxing or humorous atmosphere, but a delicate one, with Sei speaking seriously and everyone else looking at the guides they had been given, one after the other.
“And also…”
After listing everything they needed to prepare and thinking for a little while, Sei turned to everyone, who still looked perplexed, like he had suddenly recalled something.
And as if about to discuss something extremely crucial,
“One more thing, although this might be difficult for now.”
He held out his outstretched left hand for everyone.
“…?”
For a moment, even Kei didn’t understand what he was doing. It was an action like showing a ring to someone. But he quickly realized. On closer inspection, the nail on Sei’s left ring finger was grown long and cut in into a point, like the tip of a sword.
“It’d be good to sharpen the nail on your left ring finger, like this.”
Sei said.
“The nail…?”
“Yeah. The thing is, the Nanafushigi aren’t just scary, but quite a few of them do something with our minds.”
Sei looked at Kei. Seem familiar? It was an implicit message.
It definitely felt familiar, and a faint chill crept up Kei’s spine. He remembered what happened just a short while ago. On the rooftop, he was about to peer through the hole in the fence like he’d been enticed, lost in a trance.
“At times like that, squeeze your left hand tightly.”
Sei held out his left hand and clenched it into a fist.
“If you do that, the nail will pierce your palm, waking you up with pain. If something feels off, always practice imagining gripping your left hands.”
The palm of his reopened hand bore deep, distinct marks where the nail had pierced.
Sei’s eyes were serious, emanating a strange resolve unique to people who had clearly experienced something out of the ordinary. Everyone noticed it. They stared at Sei with intimidated faces.
Apparently realizing the atmosphere, Sei pulled back his left hand.
Then,
“Oh, right. So, for those metal weapons I mentioned earlier, it’s better if it’s something you can use with one hand.”
He said with a smile, glossing it over.
Mixing in innocent anecdotes about tools and hardships, like how he’d searched for a small, one-handed, lightweight shovel after listening to a senior’s advice last year, covering up the previous atmosphere.
6
After the break, the school tour began.
Sha…
A faint noise leaked continuously from the speakers, like sand pouring through the air. While bathing in that noise, a group of people, wearing uniforms that no longer existed, walked silently down the strangely dim corridors of the school at night.
In addition to the noise that was like sand grating on their nerves, the school was filled with a graveyard-like silence, so much so that they could hear the sound of their own breaths. Their footsteps echoed. Pata, pata, footsteps of shoes that weren’t their own, shoes that they had been wearing when they had come to the Houkago, sounding so unfamiliar that they did not sound like their own, which, along with the surrounding dimness, secretly intimidated their minds.
In the midst of this, occasionally, something caught their eyes.
Light. Every now and then, there would be clearly illuminated classrooms, leaking light into the corridor.
Most of the classrooms lining the corridor were so dark that they couldn’t see inside. In this corridor, which only had rows of pitch-black window panes, there was one classroom that stood alone, emitting bright light.
In the dark, gloomy school, there was visible light.
But—the light which should have been comforting to humans, within the school, was too alien.
Watching it, for some reason, made them feel extremely uneasy.
Inorganic. Yet organic.
Like it was breathing. But it didn’t feel alive.
And—on the doors of such classrooms, there was always one.
“It’s here.”
A sign. A handmade sign, from the torn page of a notebook, with just those words, “It’s here” written on it, posted on the door.
And, as stated.
There it was. Something abnormal.
In one classroom, there was something like a black mist, gathering at the center.
In one classroom, red high heels walked with loud, clicking sounds in the space between the desks.
In one classroom, a white sheet was spread out in the middle of the room, and at its center, something rose with the shape and size of a person.
In one classroom, the desks were arranged in geometric patterns. It was ordered with precision that was beyond what was humanly possible, and the shapes changed every time they looked at them.
In one classroom, seven children stood. Under the stark light, they had their backs to the corridor, lined up without the slightest movement.
In one classroom—the music room—the piano played random notes. Numerous arms intertwined from the ceiling, growing like twisted trees, competing to strike the keys.
In one classroom, to their disbelief, a train had come to a stop. The windows and doors of the classroom were adjacent to the windows and doors of the train, revealing the brightly lit interior of a train car with no one on board.
In one classroom, there was nothing. It looked like there was nothing.
But the lights were on, the entrance door was wide open, and no matter how many times they closed it, it would be open again when they looked. Then, Sei warned them, “You don’t feel good when you enter. To be honest, I don’t recommend it.”
And then—Kei and the others found themselves in front of the broadcasting room.
After touring the school with Sei’s guidance, they finally arrived at the broadcasting room, where, through the soundproof window that allowed them to see inside from the corridor, they saw a hanging corpse.
In the small broadcasting room full of machines, a boy was hanging by the neck.
Illuminated by the light, in the middle of the room that seemed like a sealed aquarium, the boy who had hung himself was suspended from the end of a rope that extended from the ceiling, with his back turned, his face hidden.
The entrance wouldn’t open. It had become a locked room.
This locked room was connected to every speaker in the school.
The noise that was currently scraping their eardrums and minds came from inside this locked room.
There had been several Kakari who tried to stop the annoying noise or check inside, but the door wouldn’t open no matter what, and they were unsuccessful in breaking the window either.
And,
“It’s here.“
A sign next to the window.
This sign was a marker that the Kakari stuck to places where they had confirmed the presence of some kind of Nanafushigi.
Nameless anomalies, lesser than the Seven Wonders, that they didn’t know anything about.
No one apart from the Kakari knew about them, and they weren’t to be touched yet—one day, the Kakari in charge of this would be chosen and brought here, to this strange fledgeling stuck in the shell of a classroom in the Houkago.
“…The Nanafushigi that haven’t been assigned so far rarely come out of their classrooms, so you can rest assured about that.”
Sei said.
They had been guided up to this point, in front of the broadcasting room. Although they were in front of the broadcasting room, they gathered together in a place where they couldn’t see the windows with pale faces.
Their expressions were stiff with tension and fear from touring the dark, eerie, and extremely abnormal school. Blood drained from their faces, yet their hearts were pounding like an alarm bell, and everyone was desperately breathing. As if confirming that they were still alive.
Among them, Iruma, who was probably the most timid, looked like she was about to throw up.
Although this wasn’t her first time, Kiku, who had guided everyone along with Sei, seemed quite exhausted.
She clutched her broom, which was probably used as a weapon, against her chest and occasionally closed her eyes tightly.
Fear, tension, and anxiety.
Once again, everyone was faced with reality.
The reality of existing in a world that wasn’t real.
Sei, who had brought them all this way, looked at them with sincere sympathy, but spoke clearly.
“From now on, everyone has to do their ‘job’ in this world.”
Heavy words in the heavy atmosphere.
“That’s why I showed you around. I wanted you to get used to it as soon as possible. And I also wanted you to know. There are many Nanafushigi in the school, just like the ones you’ve seen so far. They all basically don’t leave their territories and don’t do anything, but they will do something once we enter their territory. Absolutely never get close to them.”
“……”
Everyone listened to those words with heavy hearts. While looking at the window of the broadcasting room, spilling light into the hallway at the corners of their vision.
“Look at this part of the Kakari Guidebook.”
Sei opened the Guidebook.
There, it was written.
Things to keep in mind.
・Apart from your assigned one, stay away from the Nanafushigi.
They felt it. They had no choice.
Sei spoke.
“Then—with that in mind, next, let’s start the Kakari’s job.”
†
Everyone was given a Kakari Diary.
It was a black binder that resembled the class diary a class representative would use during the day at school. On the cover, there were fresh stickers with each person’s name written in permanent marker.
But it was clearly from an older generation, the paper with punched holes sandwiched between thick covers, an old journal bound with a string. The cover, made of thick, sturdy cardboard, was already worn out, with black paint peeling off here and there, and the letters that spelled out “Diary,” written in thick white paint, were also, to varying degrees, faded and difficult to read.
“Unless you have a particular reason, record it here.”
Taro-san said.
“They were already using this by the time I became a Kakari. You can write the content however you like, but it’d be easier for me to manage if the format is consistent.”
When they opened it, the pages were divided by frames, similar to a class diary, and each had a list of items to be recorded.
However, it was different from a normal class diary, with no entries for timetables or events. The items listed were basic information, like “Date,” “Name of the person in charge,” “Location,” and “Name of the Nanafushigi.” Next were larger entry spaces for “Appearance” and “Other observations.” Then, taking up nearly a quarter of the page was a section titled, “Changes since last time,” which ended the table. And finally, the entire back of the page was a free-entry section called “Speculation/Other,” making up, as a whole, a diary structured with one page per day.
And—there was one more thing.
If possible, they didn’t want to see it, they wanted to ignore it, but there was one item that inevitably caught their attention.
At the top of the page, a not-so-large entry field.
“Danger level”
The entry space where they were supposed to write the danger of the Nanafushigi on a 5-point scale, with 1 being “Does nothing and feels nothing,” and 5 being “Life-threatening,” existed quietly with a disturbing presence.
In any case, if they filled this out, they would be able to record the minimum necessary amount of information.
So basically, they just had to write according to this, which was also what the Kakari Guidebook said.
But that was just the basic idea.
・However, just writing a few lines each is not enough for a complete record.
Unfortunately, Kei had nothing but complete agreement on that point, which was written in the Guidebook.
He thought.
Having just been guided through the school a short while ago, he had seen too many abnormal things.
To fully express and record all of that in a diary like this felt inadequate. While Kei wasn’t bad at composition—in fact, it could be considered one of his strong points—he still felt that expending words to fill up the template of such a diary wasn’t enough to express those things.
………
†
The day ended, just like that.
4:44:44.
In the deathly quiet school of the Houkago, a chime began to ring.
The chime was so loud that the sound began to break apart, but it didn’t come with the intense headache and dizziness from the middle of the night. It just, like the dawn, quickly painted the scenery in front of Kei’s eyes white and far away, swiftly carrying his consciousness into the distance.
Glossary
学校の怪談
ほうかご
ほうかごがかり
かかり・がかり
無名不思議
gakkou no kaidan
houkago
houkago gakari
kakari/gakari
nanafushigi
school ghost stories
after-school
after-school caretaker
person-in-charge
nameless mysteries; aberrations
Credits:
Manager/Translator: Kirtax
Editor/Proofreader: Hakura
AIKiraGroup 
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