Chapter Text
❝LOOK AT ALL THE FACELESS GAZES THAT ARE PASSING BY.❞
ELEMENTARY STUDENTS—AS CONSCIENTIOUS CHILDREN—FOLLOWED THE RULES. Or, well, they followed it to the best of their abilities. Not all children wanted to obey the rules, rebelling at every opportunity given to them. That was just how life was sometimes. The reticent young girl uttered her gratitude to the team of students serving food, analyzing today’s lunch quietly. Soon enough, she would distribute the nutritious meals the school provided to her classmates. That would be her way of reimbursing them and their efforts. No words, no conversation. It was peaceful that way.
If she was honest— yeah, she kind of disliked her classmates. She enjoyed their presence but chose not to interact with them. Most children at her age were noisy, too noisy. Her associates respected her boundaries and assumed that she was a quiet, reserved girl. That was all there was to [Name] [Surname] —an eleven-year-old at Budogaoka Elementary. She was a girl that chose to dwell alone in her tranquil existence, the sound of good luck charms clinking together ringing in her ears.
She didn’t wish to be besieged by her acquaintances anyway.
“[Name]”— and then, there was him —“are you going to eat your food?”
Hayato Kawajiri. You could consider them friends, seeing how they were the only ones to interact with each other regularly. The two introverted children were almost two peas in a pod; despite that, the children barely knew the other. It was difficult for camaraderie to form for the two precocious children. After being divide into a group together, the two of them strangely stuck to each other like glitter and glue. She just— clicked with him; there was a connection that didn’t have a way to be described. At the same time, she felt indifferent toward his existence as an acquaintance. Was this the beginning of a blossoming friendship? Who knows.
But did she have the courage to initiate conversation or the motivation to do so?
No, not at all.
Putting her hands together, she whispered her gratitude for her meal. “I’ll eat now.”
She stirred the bowl of curry in her upper left-hand corner with her spoon, moving her rice to her right. It was an honor to have lunch in Japan; compared to American school lunches, Japan’s meals seem like a luxury many can’t afford. Lunch always contained a variety of healthy and nourishing food. As she poured the curry on the left, she tilted her head to the side, staring at Hayato.
The other children in the classroom were murmuring like busy bees, chatting their lunchtime away. While she wouldn’t bother with the frivolous mumblings of grade-schoolers, her ears perked up at the sound of a familiar name.
“Rumor has it that there’s an urban legend located in this school!”
Her classmate leaned forward, eager to hear more of the story. “ Woah! There is?!”
“Mhm! You don’t know about it? Okay, I’ll just tell you a brief explanation of it—the urban legend about Hanako-san of the Toilet. They say that in the third stall of the third-floor girls’ restroom, you can find Hanako- san. To summon her, you knock on the door three times, and if she’s there, she’ll reply with “Yes, I am.” Depending on the story, a ghostly hand or Hanako -san herself pulls the person into the toilet, which sometimes leads to Hell!”
“ Eeeeh?! Really, is that true?!”
“That’s what I’ve heard from the rumors! I’m sure that someone encountered Hanako- san before— not that they made it out alive to tell the tale, hehe.”
Her [color] irises darted away, focusing on her food. “Hanako- san… ”
The young girl never gave the spirit much thought before. Hanako -san was a nice girl and much older than herself. She resembled a short high school girl with choppy, black hair in a bob haircut and front bangs. As well as that, she had a pale complexion and large, amber irises. Just like a typical high school girl, Hanako -san wore a traditional sailor fuku uniform. The uniform consisted of a white blouse attached with a navy blue sailor-style collar and a navy blue pleated skirt. A red neckerchief was tied in the front and laced through a loop attached to the blouse. Along with that, she wore loose calf-high white socks and black penny loafers.
Stumbling into the third-floor girls’ restroom and finding an urban legend floating around was scary. Though —she couldn’t say that she minded the legend’s presence.
[Name] found it strange that she was the only one that could see Hanako -san. Were her eyes playing tricks on her, or was she different from the rest? No, she wasn’t going to pull an “I’m Not Like Other Girls” card and make the rest of her gender inferior by default. But still—how was she the only one that could see Hanako -san? It was such a strange phenomenon in her opinion. The wispy spirit often whispered into [Name]’s ears with a soft and alluring voice that felt real. It wasn’t like the voices in someone’s head at all.
The school was the only place [Name] ever saw Hanako -san, almost as if the spirit was bound to that specific location. Maybe she can ask Hanako- san about it?
Is Hanako -san — hypothetically speaking —not just an urban legend?
“Hanako -san? ” Hayato blinked, turning his head to face her. “What about her? Do you believe the rumors?”
She blinked lethargically, slowly nodding her head.
Upon the return of the silence, Hayato seemed to scramble for conversation starters. He nervously pushed his finished meal away from him, fiddling with his fingers. He opened his carton of milk, taking a small sip as he asked, “Is your family superstitious or something?”
“No,” she replied bluntly, poking her food. “My family isn’t superstitious. It’s just me.”
Is that strange? She had asked.
...No, I don’t think so, he responded.
Even if their relationship was vague, it was a pleasant experience to have someone understand her. They were similar—analytical, quiet, introverted, yet caring in their ways. The conversations they had with each other were composed and succinct. At times, the two came off as bored teenagers at a tutoring session that droned on for eternity. It was hard to believe they were eleven years old.
Being a mature kid was hard.
“How’s your family?” Hayato asked, averting his eyes. As he looked away, a myriad of thoughts swirled in her mind. Her brain was so curious—yet it remained organized and focused. It was the epitome of someone who applied creativity and rationality to everything. She hoped there was a way to circumvent this behavior. It irked her. Nevertheless, she dwelled on the ideas that circulated. To have a moment thinking about her inner world—a private and complex universe—was pleasant; it was not a cacophony of noises or dissonance.
“My family is… caring. I think.”
“You think?”
“We don’t talk that much.” She furrowed her eyebrows, tapping the desk lightly. “Not in a bad way, of course. I keep to myself.”
“Is that so…”
“And you?” She asked, changing the trajectory of the conversation.
“I” —he gulped dryly— “I don’t speak to my parents a lot. The relationship we have is strained.”
Silence enveloped the two of them, tension thickening in the air. She didn’t intend for a simple question to go this way. Was this a sign of something horrid behind the scenes? Was he trying to convey a secret message to her? Her hand tightened into a fist, and a permanent frown etched onto her face. She didn’t expect this to raise her anxiety.
“ N—Not that it’s a bad thing, of course! I just— I just prefer to observe them. It’s easier for me to understand them that way in comparison to talking to them. I spend most of my time in my room anyway. I doubt Mama or Papa know what I’m doing half the time since I don’t discuss my interests with them, either. We don’t have a toxic relationship or anything—but it’s not the best either.”
“ Oh—I see. ”
Suddenly—she froze, the sudden thought popping into her mind making her flinch. Why would she ever think to invite Hayato over to her house? Sure—Mom would be pleased to hear she befriended someone her age. However, when thinking about this decision, the more she dreaded it. At least she’s glad she didn’t state her sudden thought out loud. What, did you think that she—[Name] Surname—would say something impulsively?
Only a fool would state their thoughts verbally so frivolously.
Perhaps someone out there believed that [Name] performing a monologue is an amusing sight.
No, that’s not happening.
They were two eleven-year-olds that didn’t know the basics needed for performing arts.
But she knows she shouldn’t always remain in her comfort zone—out of the spotlight. Having connections once she’s older would benefit her. She’s fine being alone but reaching out once in a while couldn’t hurt too much, right? The last thing she wants is for Hayato to come over to her house and do nothing. This offer is a way to get to know Hayato— her self-proclaimed acquaintance —better. Does he put on a caricature at school? Is he the same person she is familiar with when he’s at home? She was an architect that didn’t need to rely on others or develop social skills—or, well, she was reluctant to bother with topics that involve social skills.
“Does your family intend to attend the summer attractions in July?” He asked, moving the conversation along smoothly. “Mine isn’t, so I’m curious if it’s the same for you as well.”
She nodded slowly, well-aware of the rivers and beaches opened to the public in July. Because of this, mid-summer was the height of traveling and tourism in Morioh. The number of domestic and international visitors coming from the Tokyo area or S city nearly doubles the population, doesn’t it?
“We’re attending in June for lower prices.”
No matter how cheap discounts are during the height of July—they were still expensive. Festival prices always skyrocket during the summer’s high, right? At least, that’s what she learned from buying candied apples as a child. The food vendors were just hitting differently at Japanese festivals, weren’t they? Then again, the experience would be more entertaining during mid-summer, would it not? Popular activities seemed to be vacation resorts, fishing, picnicking with family, tasting local seafood and traditional Japanese products, and visiting the mysterious underwater palace.
Ah. Either way—she can’t wait for the festival time to come.
“I see, I see. I hope you enjoy your time at the festivals, then.”
For some reason— if you looked close enough between the lines —she pitied the poor kid. Not only did he have a strained relationship with his family, but he couldn’t attend the iconic festivals either? Apart of her wanted to ask if he wanted to come along, but then again, she barely knew him. Perhaps she’ll buy him a small trinket or something else as an apology. But what was she apologizing for again?
Once more, tranquility entered her life. Lunch would be over in a couple of minutes anyway, so the long yet condensed discussions they had wouldn’t last. She pushed her empty tray away from her and searched through her [color] randoseru backpack—taking out pieces of paper. A volume of the infamous horror manga Pink Dark Boy sat in the middle of her bag—but sealed away once she closed it. Hayato stared at the creased paper, watching her fold it into a paper bird.
“Are you making paper cranes as usual?”
“Mhm.”
“How many have you made so far?”
“No clue,” she responded, focused on perfecting the origami animal. Anyone who folds one thousand paper cranes gets a wish granted by the gods. It is an ancient Japanese legend that differs depending on the person. Some stories believe you get eternal happiness and good luck. On the other hand, you get one wish granted, such as recovery from an illness that plagued you your entire life.
Hayato propped his head on top of his arms as he stared at the folded paper. “Do you have a wish in mind already?” He asked, curious to know what she wanted.
She stared at the paper crane with a blank look in her eyes, pursing her lips together into a straight line.
Did she have a wish in mind?
It never hurt having another good luck charm added to her collection—paper cranes joining her assortments of small Maneki Neko and Koinobori charms. Even the omamori necklace she occasionally wore brought good luck.
Does she not have enough good luck charms to satisfy her for the rest of her life?
“...No,” she answered, letting the silence linger. It never hurt to add another to her collection—well, er, minus the fact that she’s contributing to deforestation. Was it morally ethical of her to waste resources just for making paper cranes? Would she regret her actions once she grows up, realizing her past mistakes? No one could ever know what the future holds for them. Dwelling too much on past mistakes or what the future holds isn’t very healthy for a child.
—Knowing her, she’s overthinking this little act of origami far too much.
She probably shouldn’t challenge her moral and ethical beliefs so much, or it’ll give her a headache later on in her day.
Hayato quirked an eyebrow, noting her displeased expression—it was a strange yet welcoming change from her usual stoic features. “Is there something else on your mind?”
“It’s nothing.”
At least, that’s what she told herself. Her interest in the supernatural and horror stories seems to be backfiring on her; it was media like this that made her so callous, wasn’t it? [Name] wasn’t satisfied with this result, even if her subtle maturity seemed to be a blessing.
Her scruples were a flaw, and it isn’t even the year 2000 yet.
“Back to class!” The teacher called out. Some kids groaned at the call to clean up and leave lunchtime, which signaled the end of their conversation. Hayato Kawajiri was still an enigma to her—despite being her sort-of acquaintance. [Name] hoped she would get to know him more another day.
The rest of the day had flown by like a breeze. It might’ve been elementary school classes that were relatively undemanding when compared to work in junior high or high school— especially combined with her kind-of advanced intelligence —but it was still tiring for the young girl. She struggled to balance her indifferent reputation, studies, and welfare. Before she knows it, puberty will be tossed into the mix as well. Was it a crime to strive for the pantheon? All she desired was the comfort of her bed when she laid on it.
— Well, she wanted that and the fragrance of fresh curry bread. Perhaps the food vendor candy apples too.
Hesitantly raising her hand, she waved Hayato goodbye, ushering to leave as quickly as possible to avoid a response.
Jeez— what’s up with her today? Is there something on her mind that’s subconsciously bothering her, prodding at her brain?
Perhaps it was curry bread.
If it was curry bread, then it definitely was subconsciously prodding at her brain.
Not that she could control that aspect of her.
Slapping her cheeks as she shut her eyes, [Name] attempted to clear her mind. Begone, thoughts! There was no need to be hung up over trivial matters such as this. After all—she has her priorities in check. For now, at least. The girl paused in front of the Kōtodai shopping district, something unknowingly tugging at her heartstrings. Like a moth drawn to a flame, she began walking towards it. Sure—her mom did give her a monthly allowance—but why was she going here? The shopping district had pleasant bread, she admits it, but St. Gentleman’s was far superior. As expensive as it is, she’s sure that Trattoria Trussardi had better food than the shopping district too.
So why was she coming here?
She didn’t even intend to come here anyway.
Everything was all so sudden—yet, she continued walking. Hopefully, she doesn’t get ambushed by people and manages to get home safely instead. For all she knows, her nagging parents would kill her. What would she do if they found out she was wandering elsewhere without supervision? That’s right— revoke her rights to buying bread.
I would rather die than have that happen, she thought to herself.
Therefore, she would just have to bluff her way through that conversation— hold up.
[Name]— having been to this shopping district too many times to count —did a double-take. She blinked, trying to process the ordinary residential road beside Owson grocery. Her [color] irises trailed to the map across the street, seeing no such alleyway in block two. It was gone as if the map-maker themselves forgot to include it.
“ Was— Was this here before? ” Her eyebrows furrowed as she peered into the empty alleyway. There wasn’t a single soul in that alleyway, which made it even more suspicious in her mind. Not a single sound came from it either, the severe lack of birds chirping making her anxious.
“Can other people see this?”
She looked left and right only to watch the civilians pass by the alleyway without a second thought. Was this a fabricated image of hers? Hesitantly, she closed her eyes, sticking her hand into the alleyway. However, upon realizing that it was nothing but air, she quickly retracted her hand. [Name] opened her eyes, irises darting left and right, hoping that no one saw. Everyone passed by her without a second thought, probably just thinking that she was just your regular kid out in the streets. Taking in a deep breath, she stared down the alleyway.
“I just wanted bread, and I don’t like the sound of this.”
Only a fool would do something so impulsively and frivolously —
She exhaled, stepping into the alleyway while ignoring the impending dread that followed this action.
— So, I guess I’m a fool then.
Nothing is impossible with enough effort, intellect, and thought. At least—that’s what remarkable scientists showed to the world when they accomplished anything. People may be too lazy, unimaginative, or selfish to reach their goals. However, would that stop her from doing something impulsively? She’s still a child, after all. And boy, let her tell you, children are dumb. They’ll do almost anything to get what they want, even if it’s kind of a bad idea. Just because others tell her no, that doesn’t mean their incapacity won’t stop her.
There’s no one in her way to stop her now.
[Name]— fueled by her sudden confidence and thirst for knowledge —sauntered her way down the abandoned alleyway. Who knows, perhaps she’ll find another ghost in this suspicious location.
“TIME TO EXPLORE WHAT LIES HERE.”