‎

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎

‎

‎The cicadas were screaming. That was Jack Nakamura’s first impression of Japan.

‎

‎Not the sleek, futuristic Tokyo skyline he’d always imagined — nope. His plane had barely landed before he was whisked off to the countryside by his cousin’s friend in a rusted minivan that smelled like wasabi chips and mango soda. They were now winding through narrow roads, rice fields swaying like green oceans under the burning summer sun.

‎

‎Jack sat in the back seat, one headphone in, trying not to look like a total outsider.

‎

‎“So,” said the girl next to him, popping a piece of gum. “You always dress like an English literature teacher on vacation or is this a special occasion?”

‎

‎Jack turned. Big round sunglasses. High ponytail. Glitter on her cheeks. She was staring at him with an amused smirk.

‎

‎“I’m… comfortable,” he said slowly.

‎

‎She leaned closer, smirking. “You’re also wearing socks with sandals.”

‎

‎He immediately yanked his foot back under the seat.

‎

‎That was Luna.

‎

‎The girl his cousin warned him about: “She’s trouble, but not in the way you think. You’ll see.”

‎

‎Jack was already seeing.

‎

‎“Luna, leave the poor guy alone,” said a tall boy from the front seat. He turned around with a grin and a bag of shrimp chips. “I’m Riku. I play soccer and scream when I see bugs. You?”

‎

‎“Jack,” he said. “And… I guess I scream inwardly.”

‎

‎The girl driving raised her hand without taking her eyes off the road. “Yumi. Bookworm. Practicing not dying while driving this death trap.”

‎

‎“Hi,” came a soft voice from beside her. A girl in cat-eye sunglasses flashed a peace sign. “I’m Sora. I do nails, tarot cards, and run from commitment. We’re besties now.”

‎

‎“...Right,” Jack mumbled. Was everyone in this group straight out of a teen drama?

‎

‎“Where’s Daichi?” Luna asked, pulling her hair into a bun.

‎

‎“Sleeping in the trunk space,” Yumi said, chewing gum. “He was up all night hacking a vending machine for free Pocky.”

‎

‎“Classic,” Luna muttered.

‎

‎Jack stared out the window, overwhelmed. He had been in Japan for exactly two hours. He didn’t know why he agreed to this road trip. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen his mother’s homeland since she died. Maybe it was because the idea of a quiet summer in his uncle’s cramped Tokyo apartment made him want to explode.

‎

‎So when his cousin said “Come on a summer road trip with my friends! It’ll be healing!” — he packed a bag without thinking.

‎

‎Now here he was, being roasted by a glitter-covered girl and squashed between backpacks filled with soda and spare flip-flops.

‎

‎“You okay?” Luna’s voice was suddenly softer.

‎

‎Jack blinked. “Huh?”

‎

‎“You spaced out.”

‎

‎“Oh. Yeah, just… jet lag.”

‎

‎She studied him for a beat. Her eyes were sharp but not unkind.

‎

‎“Cool. Just don’t hurl in the van. Riku barfed once and it still smells like despair.”

‎

‎Riku turned up the music dramatically. “That was ONCE—”

‎

‎Jack chuckled, the first real laugh in days.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎They arrived at the lake town just before sunset. It was breathtaking — a sleepy place nestled between thick woods and a mirror-still lake, with traditional wooden houses and the faint scent of grilled fish drifting through the air.

‎

‎Yumi parked the van beside a small shop. “Welcome to hell—I mean, serenity!”

‎

‎Daichi finally emerged from the back, hair flattened and hoodie half-off. “Did we die?”

‎

‎“Not yet,” Sora said brightly. “But there’s still time.”

‎

‎The group stretched, argued over room arrangements, and made plans to explore the lake after dinner.

‎

‎Jack stayed quiet, watching them laugh and shove each other like they’d been doing this their whole lives. He wasn’t sure how he fit in.

‎

‎He wandered a little, drawn toward the woods. The sun was setting fast, casting long shadows across the gravel road. That’s when he saw it.

‎

‎A large, old building, half-hidden behind trees. The wood was dark with age, the windows boarded up in places. A broken stone sign sat in front:

‎

‎旅館 ゆうれい – Yūrei Ryokan

‎

‎A traditional inn.

‎

‎Jack tilted his head. The name—Yūrei—that meant ghost, didn’t it?

‎

‎He took a few steps toward it, heart ticking faster. A strange chill kissed his neck despite the heat.

‎

‎“Don’t go near that place.”

‎

‎Jack turned. Luna stood behind him, holding a can of cold tea.

‎

‎He pointed at the inn. “What is it?”

‎

‎She shrugged. “Locals say it’s haunted. Some kind of cursed inn. People stayed the night and went… weird. Or vanished.”

‎

‎“Urban legend?”

‎

‎“Maybe.” She tossed him the tea. “But in Japan, ghosts are real if you believe in them. And sometimes even if you don’t.”

‎

‎Jack raised a brow. “You believe in that stuff?”

‎

‎She smiled faintly. “I believe in energy. Some places… hold things. Grief. Fear. Memories.”

‎

‎Jack glanced back at the building. A breeze passed through the trees, and he swore one of the doors creaked open an inch.

‎

‎He blinked.

‎

‎It was closed.

‎

‎“Wanna go in?” Luna asked, eyes mischievous.

‎

‎“What? No. You just said it was cursed.”

‎

‎She leaned closer. “So? You scared, London boy?”

‎

‎Jack held her gaze. Her voice was teasing, but her eyes were testing him. For a second, the air between them crackled like static.

‎

‎“I’m not scared,” he said, deadpan. “I just don’t want to end up as ghost food on my first day.”

‎

‎Luna grinned. “Smart boy.”

‎

‎Behind them, the others called for dinner.

‎

‎As they walked back, Jack cast one last glance over his shoulder.

‎

‎The inn stood still.

‎

‎But in the top window, he could’ve sworn he saw a figure watching them.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎End of Chapter 1

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎

‎

‎Dinner was grilled eel, pickled veggies, and way too much rice. Jack poked at his food with chopsticks he barely knew how to hold, nodding along as the others bantered like they’d been born in the same group chat.

‎

‎“Okay, but what if ghosts are just bored people with bad lighting?” Sora said, dramatically holding a flashlight under her chin.

‎

‎“Then we should give them ring lights and closure,” Daichi mumbled through a mouthful of rice.

‎

‎Yumi set down her bowl, her expression unusually serious. “Some ghosts don’t want closure. They want company.”

‎

‎A beat of silence. Then Riku coughed loudly.

‎

‎“Well, I want dessert,” he said, grabbing another soda. “Preferably the kind that’s not cursed.”

‎

‎Jack chuckled, but his eyes wandered back to the window.

‎

‎Thunder rolled low over the lake like a growl.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎After dinner, the group walked along the lake’s edge. The sky had turned a dusty gray, clouds thickening above the dark trees.

‎

‎“Rain’s coming,” Yumi said, glancing upward. “A big one.”

‎

‎“It wasn’t even forecasted,” Daichi muttered, checking his phone. “My app’s useless.”

‎

‎Sora twirled her umbrella like a sword. “Maybe the storm’s dramatic. Like me.”

‎

‎“Let’s head back before we get soaked,” Luna suggested.

‎

‎But halfway back, the wind picked up — fast.

‎

‎Within minutes, it was pouring.

‎

‎Sheets of rain slammed down, thunder cracked, and lightning lit up the sky like an anime boss fight was about to go down.

‎

‎They ran for cover, but the path back was slick, and the lake fogged up like a horror movie.

‎

‎Jack nearly tripped trying to protect his camera bag.

‎

‎“I see a building!” Riku yelled through the downpour. “There—up the hill!”

‎

‎They scrambled up a muddy trail, shoes sinking into the earth, water soaking through their clothes. Jack’s shirt stuck to his back, his hair dripping in his eyes.

‎

‎And then—

‎

‎There it was.

‎

‎The Yūrei Ryokan.

‎

‎Old. Silent. Waiting.

‎

‎It stood like a forgotten memory, its wooden walls shrouded in mist, the paper lanterns on its porch flickering faintly.

‎

‎“What—why is it lit?” Jack asked.

‎

‎“Must be someone inside,” Yumi whispered. “Or... something.”

‎

‎No one replied.

‎

‎The door creaked open before anyone touched it.

‎

‎Riku froze. “Nope.”

‎

‎“YES,” Luna said, pushing forward. “Would you rather die of pneumonia?”

‎

‎“I’d rather be alive and dry. So... yes?”

‎

‎But Luna was already inside, brushing wet hair off her face like she owned the place.

‎

‎Jack hesitated, then followed. The others trickled in after, dripping and shivering.

‎

‎The entryway was warmer than expected. The wooden floors gleamed. Lanterns cast a soft golden glow. Tatami mats lined the hallway ahead.

‎

‎A quiet calm settled over the space, like the house had been waiting for them.

‎

‎“Hello?” Jack called. “Anyone here?”

‎

‎No answer.

‎

‎A bell on the front desk chimed by itself.

‎

‎Everyone jumped.

‎

‎Jack slowly stepped toward it. A note sat beside the bell on old parchment:

‎

‎> “Rooms are prepared. Please be respectful. Do not enter the third floor.”

‎

‎

‎

‎“That’s not creepy at all,” Sora whispered, clutching her bag.

‎

‎“There’s six rooms listed here,” Jack said, scanning the sheet. “Labeled with our initials.”

‎

‎Everyone stared at him.

‎

‎“You’re joking,” Riku said.

‎

‎“I wish I was.”

‎

‎Daichi peered at the paper. “J.N., L.A., R.T., D.S., Y.H., S.F. That’s... us.”

‎

‎“Nope. I’m out.” Riku turned to the door—

‎

‎—Only to find it shut tight.

‎

‎“I didn’t close it,” Luna said quietly.

‎

‎Jack tried the handle. Locked. Firm. Like it never opened in the first place.

‎

‎Yumi moved forward, brushing her fingers over the note.

‎

‎“There’s a line on the back,” she said. “It says: ‘Rest easy tonight. But do not lie.’”

‎

‎A long silence followed.

‎

‎“Lie about what?” Jack asked.

‎

‎But no one had an answer.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎The rooms were… weirdly perfect.

‎

‎Each was uniquely decorated, almost tailored. Jack’s had an old ink painting of a fox — his mom’s favorite animal. A small wooden box on the table held lavender incense, just like the kind she used to burn when he had nightmares.

‎

‎Luna’s room had a sketchpad resting on a low table and a bundle of dried wisteria by the window.

‎

‎“I didn’t tell anyone I liked that flower,” she whispered, staring at it.

‎

‎Daichi’s room had a mini console and old manga. Sora’s had her favorite nail polish brand neatly lined up.

‎

‎It was too much of a coincidence.

‎

‎And still... the exhaustion won.

‎

‎They dried off, changed into robes the inn had somehow provided, and gathered in a large tatami room with floor cushions and a low table for warm tea and cards.

‎

‎Jack watched the rain thrum against the paper windows.

‎

‎“Weirdest part?” he said softly.

‎

‎Luna looked at him. “Only one?”

‎

‎Jack smirked. “No dust. No cobwebs. Like someone’s been keeping this place… ready.”

‎

‎Luna didn’t answer right away.

‎

‎“I think it wanted us here,” she finally said.

‎

‎Jack looked at her.

‎

‎She looked... scared.

‎

‎And Luna never looked scared.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎Later that night, Jack couldn’t sleep.

‎

‎The storm hadn’t let up. Shadows from the flickering lantern outside danced along the walls. The fox painting stared at him with unsettling stillness.

‎

‎Something scratched at his window.

‎

‎Slow. Deliberate.

‎

‎Jack sat up, heart hammering.

‎

‎He forced himself to slide the screen open—

‎

‎Nothing.

‎

‎Just rain. The lake in the distance, rippling.

‎

‎He exhaled.

‎

‎And then he saw it.

‎

‎A figure. Standing by the tree line.

‎

‎White kimono. Long black hair. Barefoot.

‎

‎She didn’t move.

‎

‎Didn’t blink.

‎

‎Jack blinked once—and she was gone.

‎

‎He scrambled back, nearly knocking over the incense box.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎The next morning, the rain had finally stopped, but the mood had shifted.

‎

‎Everyone was quiet at breakfast.

‎

‎“I heard footsteps in my room last night,” Yumi said softly.

‎

‎“I saw a girl outside,” Jack admitted.

‎

‎Sora paled. “I had a dream... or maybe it wasn’t. She said my real name.”

‎

‎Daichi’s voice trembled. “How would she know that?”

‎

‎Everyone turned to Luna.

‎

‎She was staring at her tea, her voice barely audible.

‎

‎“She asked me what I was hiding.”

‎

‎“What did you say?” Jack asked gently.

‎

‎“I didn’t answer,” Luna replied, eyes distant. “But I think... she already knew.”

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎End of Chapter 2

‎

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎

‎.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎

‎

‎Jack woke up before the sun.

‎

‎Not because he wanted to. Because the bell at the front desk rang again — sharp, echoing through the old inn like it had been struck inside his skull.

‎

‎He sat up fast, drenched in sweat despite the morning chill.

‎

‎Everything felt off.

‎

‎The painting on the wall — the fox one — was gone.

‎

‎In its place hung a mirror.

‎

‎One he definitely hadn’t seen last night.

‎

‎He approached it, heart stuttering. For a second, his reflection didn’t move when he did.

‎

‎Then it snapped into sync, like it had lagged. Jack stumbled back.

‎

‎“Okay. No. Nope.”

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎In the hallway, everyone looked rough. Riku’s hoodie was inside out, Sora had smudged mascara, and Yumi held her tea with both hands like it was a lifeline.

‎

‎“I had a dream again,” she said. “The girl was at the foot of my futon.”

‎

‎“Girl?” Daichi asked, voice hoarse.

‎

‎“The same one Jack saw. Long hair. White robe.”

‎

‎“She said something this time,” Luna added quietly. “She told me... ‘The truth lives on the third floor.’”

‎

‎Jack froze. “The floor we’re not supposed to go to.”

‎

‎“Maybe that’s where she’s trapped,” Yumi said. “Or hiding. Maybe she wants help.”

‎

‎“Or maybe it’s a trap,” Riku muttered, arms crossed. “Like a horror movie. Go where you're told not to and—boom. Cursed forever. Dead by dinner.”

‎

‎“Relax,” Sora said. “Let’s just go home.”

‎

‎“YES. Let’s go home!” Riku grabbed his bag. “Finally, someone with sense.”

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎The group gathered their things, still jumpy from the night. They marched to the front door, Jack leading with keys he found at the front desk.

‎

‎He shoved the key into the old lock, twisted—

‎

‎Nothing.

‎

‎The key turned. The lock clicked.

‎

‎But the door didn’t open.

‎

‎Riku tried. Then Daichi.

‎

‎They pulled. Kicked. Slammed their shoulders into it.

‎

‎Nothing.

‎

‎No give. No creak. Just cold, solid wood.

‎

‎“Check the windows,” Jack said.

‎

‎They scattered through the inn, trying every sliding window, every paper screen, every possible exit.

‎

‎Everything led back to the same thing:

‎

‎They were locked in.

‎

‎The house… wasn’t letting them go.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎By mid-morning, tension was climbing fast.

‎

‎“I checked the kitchen,” Daichi reported. “There’s food, but no expiration dates. Everything’s fresh. Too fresh.”

‎

‎Jack frowned. “What do you mean?”

‎

‎“I mean I opened a pack of tofu and steam came out like someone just cooked it. And there’s rice. Hot. In the pot.”

‎

‎“No one’s cooking it?” Yumi asked.

‎

‎Daichi shook his head.

‎

‎“That’s it,” Riku snapped. “This place is haunted. Straight-up. Evil spirits. Demon house. We’re cursed.”

‎

‎“Or tested,” Yumi said quietly.

‎

‎Sora raised an eyebrow. “Tested?”

‎

‎Yumi looked around the room. “Japanese folklore talks about yūrei — spirits who are trapped because of unfinished business. But sometimes... they trap the living with them.”

‎

‎Luna nodded. “They want something.”

‎

‎“From us?” Jack asked.

‎

‎“Maybe not from all of us,” Yumi whispered. “Maybe just… from one.”

‎

‎The room went silent.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎It started getting weirder by the hour.

‎

‎Daichi’s phone buzzed with a message from a contact that didn’t exist:

‎

‎> "Do you regret it?"

‎

‎

‎

‎When he opened it, it disappeared.

‎

‎Riku swore he saw his grandmother sitting in the hallway. She died two years ago.

‎

‎Sora found her tarot deck scattered on her futon in a perfect circle — all cards face-up, all Death.

‎

‎And Luna…

‎

‎Luna found a letter in her bag. One she never packed.

‎

‎Handwritten. In her mother’s handwriting.

‎

‎> "You know what you did. It’s time to stop pretending."

‎

‎

‎

‎She didn’t tell anyone.

‎

‎But her hands shook when she folded it back up.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎By sunset, the air was so thick it felt like breathing soup.

‎

‎“I say we go to the third floor,” Jack finally said, breaking the silence.

‎

‎Everyone looked up.

‎

‎Riku groaned. “Of course the foreigner wants to trigger the final boss.”

‎

‎“We’ve tried everything else. We’re not getting out of here unless we understand what this place wants,” Jack said.

‎

‎Yumi looked thoughtful. “I think it already knows we’re considering it. It’s like it’s... listening.”

‎

‎Luna met Jack’s gaze. “Then we go.”

‎

‎No one argued.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎The stairs creaked beneath their weight as they climbed, flashlight beams shaking in the dim corridor. The air turned colder the higher they went — like the house was exhaling frost.

‎

‎The third floor wasn’t like the rest.

‎

‎No lanterns. No decorations. Just dust, silence, and closed doors.

‎

‎They walked slowly, each step echoing loud enough to wake ghosts.

‎

‎Sora held onto Daichi’s sleeve like a lifeline.

‎

‎Riku walked behind, muttering “nope, nope, nope” under his breath.

‎

‎Then Jack saw it.

‎

‎A single room. Door open. Flickering light inside.

‎

‎It was calling them.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎Inside, the room was empty. Just tatami mats and a small shrine in the corner.

‎

‎On the shrine sat a photo — a girl in a white kimono. Her face blurry.

‎

‎Beside it: incense. Still burning.

‎

‎“How is it lit?” Sora whispered. “We didn’t bring matches.”

‎

‎Luna stepped forward, staring at the photo.

‎

‎“I’ve seen her,” she said. “In my dreams.”

‎

‎Yumi picked up a slip of paper beside the shrine. Her face paled as she read it aloud:

‎

‎> “Speak what haunts you. Or remain here forever.”

‎

‎

‎

‎Jack swallowed. “You think it means... confess?”

‎

‎“Probably,” Yumi said. “Japanese spirits like closure. Truth. You lie to yourself, you get trapped.”

‎

‎“Okay then,” Riku stepped forward, jaw tight. “I’ll go first.”

‎

‎Everyone turned.

‎

‎“I didn’t visit my grandma when she was sick. I was scared. I lied and said I had soccer, but I just… didn’t want to see her like that.”

‎

‎Silence.

‎

‎Then… the incense flared once.

‎

‎Jack blinked. “Was that—good?”

‎

‎Sora stepped forward, voice shaky. “I pretend I’m happy all the time. Glitter, jokes, outfits — it’s a mask. I hate being alone.”

‎

‎Another flare.

‎

‎Daichi came next. “I cheated on my entrance exam. I told everyone I passed fair, but I hacked it. I felt like I had to, or I’d let my parents down.”

‎

‎Flare.

‎

‎Yumi stepped up. “I said I didn’t miss my sister when she moved away. But I do. I cry about it sometimes.”

‎

‎Flare.

‎

‎Luna stayed back.

‎

‎Jack waited.

‎

‎Everyone looked at her.

‎

‎Luna didn’t move.

‎

‎“Luna?” Jack said gently.

‎

‎She turned her head, but didn’t meet his eyes. “I can’t.”

‎

‎“You have to,” Yumi whispered.

‎

‎“No,” Luna said, backing away. “Not yet.”

‎

‎The incense flickered wildly now. Smoke curling toward the ceiling.

‎

‎And the floor beneath them groaned.

‎

‎Cracked.

‎

‎“We need to go,” Jack said.

‎

‎Too late.

‎

‎The door slammed shut.

‎

‎And the lights went out.

‎

‎

‎---

‎

‎End of Chapter 3

‎

‎

‎---

‎