Chapter 2: The Storm Rolls In

‎

‎---

‎

‎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.